She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to be. Despite what you think of me, I didn’t grow up to be a spy or a professional stalker. I bake wedding cakes for a living.”

She was annoyed and indignant, but also embarrassed. Color stained her cheeks and her bottom lip trembled slightly. She’d grown up, filled out, but the basics were still the same. Big blue eyes, long gold-blond hair and an air of determination that had scared the bejesus out of him back then.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For this and for all that. You know. Before.”

“Are we talking about the itching powder in my boxer shorts?”

“Yeah. I guess. I just…” She leaned forward and traced a pattern on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “Looking back, I can’t believe what I did to you. It was horrible.”

“Folks around here are still talking about it.”

She sat up and looked at him. “Tell me about it. Everyone else gets to leave their past behind, but not me. Noooo. I become a legend. I have to say, it seriously sucks.”

He thought about the laxative she’d managed to sneak into his soup the afternoon before the homecoming dance. “You were creative.”

“I was a menace. I just wanted…” Color flared again. “Well, we both know what I wanted.”

“Date much now?”

She tossed her head. “Some. I’m careful not to bring them here.”

“You don’t want them hearing about the time you lured a skunk into my car, then locked it inside for a couple of hours?”

She winced. “I paid for the cleaning.”

“My car was never the same. I had to sell it. At auction.” He raised his glass to her. “You were hell-bent on breaking up me and Pam.” Based on what had happened, maybe he should have listened.

Gracie’s knowing expression had him thinking she would agree with his assessment. But instead of commenting on that she said, “So what happens next?”

“I find out what Zeke’s up to. I don’t need any trouble right now. Can you get your sister to back off until I have some concrete information?”