first. You’ve changed.”
She wasn’t sure that was good thing or not. “Most do
in ten years,” she said, grateful her tone remained modulated.
He never altered his expression, and she couldn’t see
behind his sunglasses.
“Yes,” he commented. “I suppose we all do.”
“Excuse me,” she said. “I have a date.” Where the
words originated from, she hadn’t any clue.
“Really?” His dark eyebrows shot up on his
forehead.
Her ire went from low simmer to full-fledged with
someone using a bellows on the flames. “I’m sorry? Is the prospect
of me having a date so foreign to you?”
He took a step back before halting and shaking his
head. “No, that…that isn’t it at all.”
She arched one eyebrow and, looking down her nose at
him, sniffed. “Good.” Before she totally lost her composure, she
spun on her heel and climbed in her car. Her trusty Honda rumbled
to life when she turned the key, allowing her to drive away without
another word. Even so, as she moved farther away from him, she
glanced in the rearview.
Damn him! What had she done to deserve this? Without
considering she may be busy with other things, or someone else,
Hermione drove over to her friend’s house, Dr. Melinda Glazer.
Parking beside her SUV, Hermione took deep breaths
before climbing out on wobbly legs. At the door, she rang the bell.
Moments later, Melinda answered.
“Hermione, how… What the fuck happened? Are you okay?
Get in here.”
She could feel her walls crumbling around her then
Melinda had her arms circling her.
“Christ, honey,” she said. “You look like you’ve seen
a ghost. What’s going on?”
She had, in a manner of speaking. “He’s back,” she
muttered, going along as Mel led her to the couch.
“Go grab something comfortable from my closet, and
we’ll talk about it. I’ll fix us something to drink.”
Hermione may have less stature than Melinda, but at
least she wouldn’t be in her business suit. In Melinda’s room, she
dug for a pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, needing some
extra warmth for the moment. Melinda waited with a drink for her,
and they sat on the couch.
“Am I interrupting something you had going on
tonight?” she asked.
“Not a chance. Besides, you need me, I’m here. What’s
going on? Who’s back?”
She sipped the coffee, grateful for the liberal
amount of alcohol she tasted in it. Leave it to Melinda to know
what she needed. She swallowed, accepted the burn, and looked at
her friend.
“Brody Paget.”
f
Brody paced his small hotel room. He needed to go
home and see his parents, which had been the sole purpose of this
trip. His news to them would be better served face to face.
So what the hell am I doing hiding out in the
hotel room? He wasn’t quite sure, but neither could he bring
himself to go to the house he’d grown up in. His confidence had
wavered in the bank. He sank on the edge of the bed.
Hermione. Seeing her again had rocked him to the
core. She’d filled out in the ten years since he’d left, becoming
much curvier. She still took his breath away. It had been a shock
to see her, but once he’d figured out who she was, he couldn’t take
his eyes off her. He’d been eternally grateful he wore his
sunglasses, for that way no one else in there would know he stared
only at her.
The young woman who’d stolen his heart had given way
to a mature woman who made his mind go down roads best left in the
shadows. He had no claim over her. Plus, she said she had a date
tonight.
Knowledge that pissed him off. Again, without any
rhyme or reason. He didn’t have the right to feel such a way about
her, but he did. He wanted her here with him, wanted to share his
journey with her. Kiss her. Make love to her.
His mind shoved him down a dark path. Was she
enjoying her lover? Taking him inside her body with moans and cries
that used to be reserved solely for Brody? Was that man kissing her
in that ticklish spot on her hip, right below her
She wasn’t sure that was good thing or not. “Most do
in ten years,” she said, grateful her tone remained modulated.
He never altered his expression, and she couldn’t see
behind his sunglasses.
“Yes,” he commented. “I suppose we all do.”
“Excuse me,” she said. “I have a date.” Where the
words originated from, she hadn’t any clue.
“Really?” His dark eyebrows shot up on his
forehead.
Her ire went from low simmer to full-fledged with
someone using a bellows on the flames. “I’m sorry? Is the prospect
of me having a date so foreign to you?”
He took a step back before halting and shaking his
head. “No, that…that isn’t it at all.”
She arched one eyebrow and, looking down her nose at
him, sniffed. “Good.” Before she totally lost her composure, she
spun on her heel and climbed in her car. Her trusty Honda rumbled
to life when she turned the key, allowing her to drive away without
another word. Even so, as she moved farther away from him, she
glanced in the rearview.
Damn him! What had she done to deserve this? Without
considering she may be busy with other things, or someone else,
Hermione drove over to her friend’s house, Dr. Melinda Glazer.
Parking beside her SUV, Hermione took deep breaths
before climbing out on wobbly legs. At the door, she rang the bell.
Moments later, Melinda answered.
“Hermione, how… What the fuck happened? Are you okay?
Get in here.”
She could feel her walls crumbling around her then
Melinda had her arms circling her.
“Christ, honey,” she said. “You look like you’ve seen
a ghost. What’s going on?”
She had, in a manner of speaking. “He’s back,” she
muttered, going along as Mel led her to the couch.
“Go grab something comfortable from my closet, and
we’ll talk about it. I’ll fix us something to drink.”
Hermione may have less stature than Melinda, but at
least she wouldn’t be in her business suit. In Melinda’s room, she
dug for a pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, needing some
extra warmth for the moment. Melinda waited with a drink for her,
and they sat on the couch.
“Am I interrupting something you had going on
tonight?” she asked.
“Not a chance. Besides, you need me, I’m here. What’s
going on? Who’s back?”
She sipped the coffee, grateful for the liberal
amount of alcohol she tasted in it. Leave it to Melinda to know
what she needed. She swallowed, accepted the burn, and looked at
her friend.
“Brody Paget.”
f
Brody paced his small hotel room. He needed to go
home and see his parents, which had been the sole purpose of this
trip. His news to them would be better served face to face.
So what the hell am I doing hiding out in the
hotel room? He wasn’t quite sure, but neither could he bring
himself to go to the house he’d grown up in. His confidence had
wavered in the bank. He sank on the edge of the bed.
Hermione. Seeing her again had rocked him to the
core. She’d filled out in the ten years since he’d left, becoming
much curvier. She still took his breath away. It had been a shock
to see her, but once he’d figured out who she was, he couldn’t take
his eyes off her. He’d been eternally grateful he wore his
sunglasses, for that way no one else in there would know he stared
only at her.
The young woman who’d stolen his heart had given way
to a mature woman who made his mind go down roads best left in the
shadows. He had no claim over her. Plus, she said she had a date
tonight.
Knowledge that pissed him off. Again, without any
rhyme or reason. He didn’t have the right to feel such a way about
her, but he did. He wanted her here with him, wanted to share his
journey with her. Kiss her. Make love to her.
His mind shoved him down a dark path. Was she
enjoying her lover? Taking him inside her body with moans and cries
that used to be reserved solely for Brody? Was that man kissing her
in that ticklish spot on her hip, right below her
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