Read Online Love's Last Chance by Jean C. Joachim - Free Book Online

shifted her weight
from foot to foot. Why didn’t I wear a turtleneck?
    “Let me carry it for you, Dorrie.” She
sensed his dark brown eyes were laughing at her.
    “Okay, okay, yeah. Fine. Thanks, Johnny.”
She dropped her purse, scooped up the makeup, wallet, and credit
card holder that fell out, hauled her canvas bag onto her shoulder,
and followed along behind him, ignoring his chuckle.
    The narrow, wood slat walkway only allowed
walking single file, so there was no opportunity for conversation.
Dorrie examined his back. He seemed a bit more muscular than five
years ago, if she could gauge by his tight, light blue T-shirt
straining to cover both shoulders. Navy blue swim trunks clung to
narrow hips, a cute butt, and strong thighs. His calves were
perfect. He still has a body to die for.
    She looked out at the placid bay as they
walked by. All the wild, crashing waves came from the ocean on the
other side of the narrow island. The sight of the calm water
brought her much-needed peace. Don’t know what I’ll find here.
Maybe Johnny’s married, engaged, or in love. Wouldn’t surprise
me. Her heart rate was still rising as anxiety mixed with
excitement in her blood. Time to find out for good. Did I leave
too fast, or was that the right move?
    Johnny carried her luggage into the small,
two-bedroom bungalow on Blue Wave Street. “Which room is
yours?”
    “Scouting her out already?” Drake asked.
    Johnny blushed. “Looking for the right place
for her suitcase, nut-job.”
    That’s Johnny. Always helping me. Always
there when I needed him. Almost always. Dorrie pointed to the
room on the right, and he deposited her valise there. She leaned
against the bar, her gaze scanning the room.
    “Crap, this dump hasn’t changed,” she
said.
    “Yeah, only five years ago, we thought it
was a palace,” Johnny chuckled.
    “Beer?” Drake asked. Johnny pointed to the
fridge. Drake helped himself then offered an Island brew, a local
brand, to the other two.
    Sweat had begun to gather between Dorrie’s
breasts. She grabbed the bottle and took a swig. The liquid cooled
her. “Ah. That’s good.”
    Johnny followed suit. “Damn right.”
    “I’m going to check out the other house,”
Drake said, leaving the two alone.
    Dorrie glanced at Johnny’s left hand. No
wedding ring. Doesn’t mean anything. “So…not married, Johnny?” Damn! Did that just pop out of my mouth?
    “Not married, not engaged, not even going
steady.” He thrust his head back and guzzled his beer.
    “Not that that affects me any,” she mumbled,
trying to hide a smile.
    “You?” He lifted his eyebrows as his gaze
fell on her left hand.
    “Nope. Free as a bird.”
    “Whatever happened to that hot-shot producer
you were engaged to? Quickie divorce?”
    “Quickie break-up.” She licked a little foam
off her lip, watching Johnny stare at her mouth for a moment.
    “Yeah?” He cocked his head slightly. He’s
waiting for details, snoopy bastard.
    “Long story.” She leaned back on the bar,
bracing the bottom of her foot against it.
    “Highlights.” He shifted his weight then
took another swig.
    It’s gonna come out anyway. Everyone’s going
to ask me, especially Mary. Nosy bitch.
    “Broke my ankle. No more dance career…no
more engagement. Got it?”
    “That’s harsh. What a dumbass.”
    Dorrie bristled. “What?”
    “For leaving you. Assuming he’s the one who
took off?”
    Heat again rose to her face. “Yeah. He broke
the engagement.” Johnny—only man I know who can insult you while
he’s giving you a compliment. She chuckled.
    “What’s so funny? Doesn’t sound like a funny
story to me.”
    “It wasn’t.”
    Before she knew it, Johnny reached over and
surrounded her shoulders with his long arm, pulling her into his
chest. He closed the other around her waist, holding her in a tight
hug. Dorrie struggled for a second at the surprise of his
tenderness before she softened against him. It’s been three
years. Still stings to