“Clark tried to find a way to stand so as not to look ridiculous in his current choice of headwear, but it was hopeless. Violet Sharpton had actually climbed on a chair to put the hat on him—something he strongly discouraged to no avail. The old ladies were having far too much fun at his expense. “Mrs. Sharpton, please get down.” “Not...just...yet.” She adjusted the hat for the sixth time. He was pretty sure she was just messing with him, but she was so small and so adorable—and so very well... respected in the church ladies guild—that he rolled his eyes and relented. “There,” she said, scanning him with narrowed eyes. “How’s it feel?” He looked sideways at the old woman. He ought to be mad, but somehow he just couldn’t summon the irritation. “The hat or my dignity?” Violet swatted his shoulder. “The hat.” Her assessing frown curled into a knowing smile. “And from what I hear, your ego could always stand a ding or two.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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