That was exactly what she heard from Trace Barringer after Saturday night’s ice cream. Sometimes Talia wondered if instead of hearing him softly call her a chicken, she’d just dreamed it. It was a sad day when a Barringer called a McKenzie chicken and got away with it. Sadder still, her conscience chided, when it was the truth. She was beginning to feel like a very inept opponent in this battle for her…for her what? Virtue? She laughed out loud at the thought. She’d technically lost her virtue five years earlier during her one puny attempt at a serious relationship. Between helping Kevin recover from his ordeal and taking over the sub shop, there’d been little time for romance, and the young man had grown impatient with her responsibilities. It must not have been too serious, Talia had concluded, because when he’d called it quits, she’d felt more relief than regret. She just wished she felt no regret over Trace Barringer. But she had never been good at lying to herself. The blatant invitation Trace extended with his sexy voice and eyes was almost too tempting.
