Unforgettable

Book 4: A Country Roads Novel

by Shannon Richard

Genres: Coming of Age; Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

One long, hot summer would never be enough . . . Attorney Hannah Sterling lives a life she's worked hard for. So when she unexpectedly inherits an inn, Hannah decides to take that long overdue holiday and settle her eccentric grandmother's estate. She knew there would be challenges, but what's hardest about returning to Mirabelle, Florida, is facing the man who gave her the most passionate summer of her life-and then broke her heart. Nathanial Shepherd never forgot the redheaded goddess who lit up his world and got away. Now that she's home, Shep vows to make up for their years apart-and if the fire in her kiss is any indication, they're well on their way. But when a devastating secret from their past threatens their future, Shep must fight to heal Hannah's heart. Because this time, their love will truly be unforgettable . . . "Funny, sassy, and sexy. Reading Shannon Richard is pure pleasure!"-- Jill Shalvis, New York Times bestselling author "Richard's populates her appealing small town with quirky secondary characters, a feisty heroine and a hero to sigh for." -- Lori Wilde, New York Times bestselling author "HOT! Richard's tempting second addition to her Country Roads series puts a clever spin on the small-town romance trope with great effect. The chemistry between her main characters is indisputable...a heartwarming story with clever twists that will please Richard's fans and win her new devotees." -- RT Book Reviews on Undeniable

Release date: January 13, 2015

Publisher: Forever Yours

Print pages: 434

Sample

Present day…

Hannah Sterling had been back in Mirabelle, Florida, for exactly twenty-four hours before she was finally brave enough to venture out among the living and leave the dusty confines of her new—and temporary—residence.

There was a Seafood Festival down at the main part of Mirabelle Beach. The pier was loaded up with vendors selling their shrimp gumbo, sautéed scallops, and fried alligator on a stick. She was pretty sure that half of the five thousand people that populated the six hundred square miles were packed into the area.

But crowd or not, Mirabelle was a far cry from Manhattan. It would take some time for her to get used to it, more time than she was going to be spending there.

This was just a temporary thing. Three months, that was it. That was how long Hannah had to figure out what she was going to do with the Seaside Escape Inn, to possibly start to deal with the death of her grandmother, and to maybe figure out why her grandmother had left her said inn.

But within ten minutes of walking around the festival, she doubted her decision more than ever. She froze in her tracks as she stared at the first man she’d given her body to, the only man she’d given her heart to, and the one man who had ultimately broken it.

Hannah had immediately noticed Nathanial Shepherd the first time she’d seen him thirteen years ago. It had been at a distance, but there’d been no denying how good he looked. He’d worn his black hair long and shaggy, and even at eighteen his square, chiseled jaw had always been covered in five-o’clock shadow. As he’d been wearing sunglasses, she hadn’t seen his eyes then, but later she’d discovered the deep blue color that reminded her of sapphires and how they were surrounded by thick, dark lashes women everywhere would covet.

He’d been without a doubt the most attractive guy she’d ever seen.

And now? Now he was thirty-one and about thirty-one times more attractive. His hair was a little bit shorter—though still tousled in an incredibly sexy way—but he must have just transferred the length to his jaw. He was sporting what could be described only as a ten-o’clock shadow. For just a second she let herself imagine that it was a little softer than the rough scruff she’d known in a previous life.

And then there was the not-so-small matter of the tattoos scattered across both of his arms. He’d already started the collection the summer she’d been here, but it appeared he’d added several. There were only a few on his left, but the right was covered all the way up to the sleeve of his T-shirt.

Hannah found the whole package so sexy she couldn’t think for a second… or two… or ten.

And then she took in the rest of the scene and her entire body cringed.

The whole perfect little picture in front of her made her so unexpectedly sad she could barely see straight. He had a little boy in his arms, a little boy whom he was bouncing up into the air, and both of them were laughing. And then there was the woman at his side. She had legs all the way up to her ears and a wide smile. She tossed her dark brown hair over her shoulder as she looked at the duo with adoration and love.

Shep was married.

Married.

And his family… God. They were beautiful together. She’d known he’d moved on from her thirteen years ago, but not on on. There was something about seeing the happy little family in the flesh that literally ripped her in half.

It was the life that could’ve been hers. The life that would never be hers.

It wasn’t like she’d come back here thinking there was a chance in hell at another shot with him. Not at all. She had much more sense than that. Otherwise she was screwed. Royally so.

Shep handed the little boy to his wife and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. Then he looked up and scanned the crowd. Hannah had a heart-stopping moment where his eyes landed on her, and he hesitated for seconds that were more like an eternity. His mouth quirked to the side in question and his eyebrows lowered.

But then a guy with buzzed dark blond hair came up behind him, and his gaze left her. She immediately began to breathe again and quickly merged with the group of people next to her.

Why the hell am I hiding, anyway?

As he’d moved on about a second after she’d left, she doubted he would even remember her. And the odds were even less that he’d recognize her.

So she walked away and didn’t look back, leaving Shep and the life that wasn’t hers behind. She rubbed at her chest, an ache that she hadn’t felt in a while blooming under the skin.

What the hell was she doing here? Had her grandmother really thought that coming back to Mirabelle was going to help? What was the purpose?

Gigi Sterling had been absent from this world for four months now. Hannah hadn’t exactly grieved her beloved grandmother. She didn’t know how a person was supposed to grieve the loss of a best friend. How she was supposed to cope with the death of the only person she’d ever thought of as a parent. Her only real family.

She’d avoided it, but there was no avoiding it now. That’s why she was in Mirabelle. She thought this all might help in the grieving process, as it was the last thing Gigi had done for her. The last thing Gigi had wanted of her.

For years Gigi had talked to Hannah about unfinished business. Settling things before it was too late. The importance of closure. She knew her granddaughter better than anyone else, so she’d known that the miscarriage and things with Shep had always haunted Hannah.

And that was how the current adventure had come into play.

Gigi had learned long ago how to get exactly what she wanted. She put plans into place that guaranteed Hannah was going deal with things. About a year ago—and unbeknownst to Hannah—she’d bought a beach house in Mirabelle. The very same house Hannah had spent that summer in more than a decade ago.

Hannah was now the owner of the Seaside Escape Inn. When she’d come down, she’d had absolutely no idea what she was walking into; nor did she have any idea what she was going to do with it. But she did have a little time to figure it out.

Somehow everything fell into line perfectly. Right place, right time. Even in death Gigi was pulling strings.

Hannah was a partner at one of the biggest commercial law firms in Manhattan. She worked in the contracts department at McAvoy and Sutter, where there was more than plenty to keep her busy. They’d just finished working on a merger between Harrison and Bloom, two billion-dollar tech companies.

Harrison was their client, and it was the biggest and most important deal the firm had ever done. It consisted of months of work that had kept her and many of the other partners in the office for hours on end. It had been exhausting and a distraction from her personal life.

Shortly after the merger was finished, Gigi’s will had been read and Hannah had found out about her inheritance. With no huge projects at work consuming her every thought, she’d had to start dealing with her loss, and it hadn’t been pretty.

Allison McAvoy was more than just Hannah’s boss; she was a mentor and the only person whom Hannah really considered a friend. Allison knew everything that was going on; she also knew exactly how hard Hannah had worked on the Harrison contract. So when Hannah had asked for the time off, Allison had given it without blinking.

It wasn’t like Hannah wouldn’t be working for the next three months; she was more than capable of drafting contracts and going over them from Mirabelle. So with the green light from work, she’d packed up some of her stuff and hit the road with her six-month-old kitten, Henry.

After two days of driving, she got into town in the early evening with gritty eyes and a need to hibernate. She was pretty sure it wasn’t just the drive that had done her in but the last few months as a whole. Despite the rock-hard mattress, she’d passed out, though her back had been more than slightly sore when she’d woken up.

Henry had apparently needed rest, too; thus he’d let her sleep in that morning. The afternoon was spent taking stock of the massive three-story inn they now resided in. What with the eighteen bedrooms, most complete with their own private bath, they had a lot to explore.

Henry played shadow, following her around for hours, his little gray tail in the air, as anxious as she was to stretch his legs and check out the new digs.

Though they weren’t that new.

The inn had gone through some changes since Hannah had been there last, none of them good. Two different sets of owners had taken a shot at entrepreneurship. Neither had been all that successful. Certain things had fallen into disrepair, while some changes had been horribly misguided.

Someone had thought that wallpapering the bathrooms was a good idea.

They’d been wrong.

Projects had been started and not finished, boxes of purchased supplies stored in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Almost every single wall was in need of a fresh coat of paint, and a lot of the lighting and plumbing fixtures needed to be replaced. The furniture was old and banged up and the linens, threadbare. It was a good thing she’d brought her own sheets, towels, and blankets.

At least the hardwood floors were still in fantastic condition. They might squeak when anyone walked on them, but she liked the noise. It invoked happy memories of when she’d been here before, every room occupied by vacationers. Sure Gigi could’ve rented a house for just the two of them, but she’d always done things differently. It was all about the experience, trying something new—the adventure of it all.

Hannah was pretty sure that Gigi had purposely picked out the inn as a stepping-stone for her first year of college—forcing Hannah to meet new people and open up, getting her used to a community-type living.

There was something about being in that house that was both comforting and disconcerting at the same time. Memories of that summer flooded Hannah’s brain. Gigi in her big floppy hat, sunscreen smeared across her nose while she lay out on the beach reading a book. The two of them curled up on the couches while it rained outside, drinking mugs of tea and laughing. Shep coming over and eating dinner with them. Shep sneaking into her room late at night. Shep kissing her one last time before she got into the car and left him for good.

Seeing him again made everything that happened thirteen years ago open up like a fresh wound. Well, didn’t it just go perfectly with the more recent wound that was the loss of Gigi?

For thirteen years Hannah had avoided pain at all costs, and now she was knee-deep in it.

* * *

Nathanial Shepherd never had a problem getting a girl into his bed. Too bad for the blonde at the bar he’d sworn off women.

“Get you anything else, Andrea?” he asked as he stopped in front of her.

“I’m thinking what I want isn’t on the menu.” Her eyes narrowed as she chewed on the end of her straw. She had very big lips that were coated with some shiny red gloss. It made him think about her lips wrapped around something else.

That wasn’t happening, either. He’d used his dick as a coping mechanism for far too long. But not anymore.

Shep’s sex life had cooled down of late. Way down. Like… glacial, and he had a damn good reason for it, too.

His grandfather had been his hero from as far back as he could remember. Hell, Owen had built the Sleepy Sheep, the family bar that Shep helped run and of which he was now a partial owner. He’d also built the house Shep lived in now.

So when Owen had said in no uncertain terms that he was disappointed with Shep, it had been a blow. But not nearly as big of a blow as the call Shep received five hours later. Nothing compared to the pain he’d felt when he’d found out Owen was gone. The heart attack had been sudden and swift. His grandfather never even made it to the hospital.

There were certain things that could set a man straight, and to have the person he respected most think that he was pissing his life away? Yeah, that was certainly one of them. All of Shep’s life he’d wanted to live up to his grandfather’s legacy, and he was nowhere near it.

Thus, Shep’s somewhat calmed libido. But even though he wouldn’t be sleeping with Andrea, it didn’t mean he couldn’t flirt with her. Tips were tips, and a guy had to pay the bills.

“I’m sure we can find you something.” He grinned as he placed both hands on the counter and leaned in. “Wine? Beer? Sex on the Beach?” he asked with a wicked grin.

Andrea’s eyes dilated and she licked her lips.

“Or I can whip up something special, just for you.”

Her smile widened and she nodded. “I’ll take the something special. Sweet and salty, preferably.”

“Coming right up.”

He headed to the middle of the bar and pulled out a bottle of gin before he eyed the juices stocked in the fridge. He was adding a splash of triple sec to the grapefruit juice and raspberry concoction he’d come up with when his little brother, Finn, came out of the back with a tray full of clean mugs.

Finn was a little bit buffer and just slightly shorter than Shep, coming out at about six foot two to Shep’s six foot three. But they had the same blue eyes and easygoing grin. The only other visual difference, besides the tattoos that covered Shep’s arms, was the fact that Finn wore glasses.

“I’m pretty sure the hot blonde in the corner wants to nail you to the wall,” Finn said out of the side of his mouth.

“Of course she does.”

“Might want to take her up on that.”

It was a lot harder for Shep to conceal that he was on a self-imposed dry spell when he was currently living with his little brother. Finn had been back in Mirabelle for about four months now, ever since he’d passed his Veterinary Medical Exams and started working at the only animal doctor in Mirabelle.

While Finn got settled into his new life postschool, he was bunking it up with Shep. They had opposite schedules, so it wasn’t all that bad, except when Finn ate everything in the fridge, which was fairly often. Shep had no idea how his little brother had made it through eight years at school, because the guy was physically incapable of going to the grocery store.

Doctor Dolittle worked at the bar only occasionally. And as one of the guys who was supposed to be on shift that night called out, he’d filled in. And now Shep was dealing with Finn poking him… with a very large stick.

He looked at his baby brother and raised an eyebrow. It was a move that would’ve intimidated the hell out of Finn a decade ago. But now it had absolutely no effect.

“Maybe you should mind your own business,” Shep said as he grabbed a glass and salted the rim.

“All kidding aside, what the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your new vow as a man of the cloth, Father Shepherd.”

“Watch it.”

“I’m not saying nail everything within a ten-mile radius like you used to, but maybe a date with Miss Bedroom Eyes over there would be good for you.” Finn didn’t even wait for a response from Shep before he walked away, which was good because the words out of Shep’s mouth would probably have included a fuck and an off.

Finn was enjoying life after school, taking advantage of his freedom and spending more than a few evenings in the company of a variety of women. Though Shep suspected that had a little to do with the fact that his high school sweetheart, Becky Wright, wasn’t really giving him the time of day since he’d come back.

So Shep really wasn’t inclined to take his brother’s advice to heart.

He returned his focus to his drink mixing and poured his creation into the glass. He turned around, snapping into work mode and replacing his scowl with a smile.

But there might’ve been a little something to Finn’s words. What the hell was he doing? Okay, so maybe the one-eighty he’d pulled after Owen’s death hadn’t been the answer. And maybe sitting on his ass waiting for something to happen wasn’t the best solution. Maybe he needed to step up and take some action, and Andrea would be some good action.

His dick was in agreement, but his brain hesitated. Why the hell wasn’t that even remotely what he wanted to do?

* * *

Hannah stared up at the swinging sign above the Sleepy Sheep. The sign had two sheep sleeping in the corner, Zs trailing above their heads. There were large, pained windows on either side of the front door, giving a good view of the establishment within. The same mahogany wood was on the inside and out, giving the place a Scottish pub feel.

Maybe the longer she analyzed the outside, the longer she could delay walking inside.

That sounded like a good plan.

A perfect plan, in fact.

She’d never been in during business hours, as she’d been underage, but she’d spent plenty of time inside the building, playing pool and making out with Shep in the back office.

There was a war waging in her at the moment. One was to run away. It had been three days since she’d seen him at the Seafood Festival, and she wasn’t sure she was quite over the shock of him settled with a family. There was no need to put herself in an uncomfortable situation.

But as Hannah was going to be here for the next three months, she felt like she needed to get this little meeting out of the way. It was a small town, and she was bound to run into him sooner or later. On the off chance that she’d made a lasting impact on Shep’s memory, she figured that if she got it over and done with now, she’d be in complete control of the situation.

“So now it is.” She opened the door and walked inside.

The place was packed. The tables out on the floor were crowded with occupied chairs. People were lined up all along the bar, waiting for drinks. Country music played through the speakers, keeping the couples out on the dance floor busy.

Hannah’s eyes went to the bar, and she zeroed in on who she thought was Shep. She immediately realized it wasn’t him, but she was a little taken aback by the resemblance. Finn was no longer a baby-faced thirteen-year-old. He was almost Shep in miniature… almost, but not quite.

She wasn’t sure if Finn would remember her or not, but there was no point in hiding anymore. She was doing this thing. Ripping off the Band-Aid.

She went up to the bar and took one of the few empty seats. She settled in next to a guy who was sipping on his beer and staring up at some sporting event on TV. The game went to a commercial for a special report, and it took her only a moment to realize what it was.

There was a high-profile court case going on in Manhattan between basketball player Raymond Larson and his wife, actress Angel Hall. She’d tried to kill him—stabbed him fourteen times—and though he’d survived, his basketball career had not. The whole thing was being televised and hashed out and dissected every night by anyone who took a prelaw class.

The wife’s lawyer, Jeffrey Phillips, was doing everything in his power to make her look like the victim. He was arguing self-defense, saying the wife had been abused for years, and he was doing a pretty damn good job at it. There was no doubt about the fact that the guy was a talented lawyer. He was charming, manipulative, and so good at lying it should be illegal. Hannah would know, as he was her ex-boyfriend.

Jeffrey appeared on the screen, gesturing with his hands as he talked to the jury, everything about him immaculate and groomed, from his three-thousand-dollar suit to his manicured fingernails. She couldn’t stop the scoffing noise that erupted from her throat.

The guy sitting next to her turned in her direction. He reached up and pushed his sandy blond hair out of his eyes as he looked her over.

“You think it’s a joke, too?” he asked, nodding up to the screen with his chin.

“I think she’s guilty as sin, and she’s going to get away with it.”

“Yeah, the prosecutor can’t tell his ass from his elbow. Sorry.” He looked at her apologetically when he realized what he’d said.

“Don’t worry about it.” She waved him off. “It’s true.”

“The prosecution is going to lose, especially up against a shark like Jeffrey Phillips. That man has no soul.”

He could say that again.

It was then that she took in the man’s somewhat expensive attire—clothing that was not the norm in Mirabelle, where shirts were grease stained and jeans were torn. But this guy was wearing a light blue button-up shirt, no stains in sight, and what she assumed were fitted trousers. He’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and wasn’t wearing a tie, the top button of his still-crisp shirt undone.

“Are you a lawyer?” Hannah asked.

“Guilty as charged. I hope to God I never have to deal with anything like that.”

“Down here in Mayberry? I think you’re safe.”

“I don’t know about that. We had a string of robberies last year. My friend Melanie was shot, and then my other friend Grace was held at gunpoint.”

“Melanie O’Bryan and Grace King?” she asked, horrified.

Shep’s best friends were Jaxson Anderson and Brendan King, Grace’s older brother. Grace and Mel had been best friends. Hannah had spent plenty of time with the three guys and their friends and family. She distinctly remembered the two girls from that summer, Grace with blue eyes that looked at Jax with no small amount of adoration and Mel with her crazy curly blonde hair.

“You know Melanie and Grace?” He looked at her, confused.

“It was a long time ago.”

“I was going to say… She’s not Grace King anymore. It’s Anderson now.”

“Are you serious?” Hannah couldn’t stop the wave of excitement at that news, or the smile that popped up on her mouth. “She married Jax? I always knew he’d figure that out.”

The guy’s eyebrows bunched together even more. “How did you know that and… who are you?”

“I’m Hannah. I spent a summer here years ago.” She stuck out her hand toward the guy, but it took him a second to realize it as his jaw dropped and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“You’re Hannah Sterling?” He stared at her in shock for a second before he recovered and stuck out his hand, shaking hers firmly before he let go. “I’m Preston Matthews.”

Now it was her turn to be baffled. “How do you know who I am?”

“You’re the only girl who’s ever broken Nathanial Shepherd’s heart. Darling, you’re a legend.”

“Excuse me?” And just like that she went from baffled to stunned.

“Does he know you’re here?” Now Preston was grinning as he glanced behind the bar, no doubt searching for Shep, who wasn’t there.

“Not yet. I haven’t seen him. What do you mean I’m the only one who ever broke his heart?” That couldn’t be true; he didn’t have a heart.

“Some theory Grace has as to why he hasn’t settled down.”

Hannah suddenly felt light-headed, and she wasn’t exactly sure why. She chose to ignore it. “I thought he was married with a child.”

“What? Not even close.” Preston moved, turning his body to face her, and in the process he knocked over his beer on the bar. Most of it splashed onto the counter, but a good portion of the cold liquid landed on Hannah’s arm and shirt.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologized profusely, looking horrified. “Let me get you some napkins.”

“It’s okay.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Let me just run to the bathroom to wash the beer off.” She slid off the bar stool and started making her way through the crowd.

It was a legit enough excuse to get away for a second and process. She wasn’t even remotely upset about the spilled beer. Her mind was reeling from that little bit of information she’d just learned. She needed somewhere to think for a second without the staring eyes of a complete stranger.

But as she rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Shep was standing at the far end of the hallway, caging a woman in against the wall. He was just lowering his mouth to the woman’s when a large someone ran into Hannah from behind, sending her sprawling toward the ground.

* * *

Shep pulled away from Andrea and turned in the direction of the commotion. There was a woman sitting on the floor, her light red hair spilling over her shoulders and covering her face. She was cradling her arm close to her chest while a hulking man Shep didn’t recognize leaned over her.

“You okay? I didn’t see you there,” the man slurred as he swayed over the woman.

“I got this.” Shep crossed the space and squatted down next to the woman. The drunk guy moved off, no longer concerned that he’d just knocked someone to the ground.

Asshole.

“Ma’am, are you—” but the words literally stopped in his throat when she looked up. He was lucky he didn’t fall on his ass.

Holy. Shit.

Hannah.

Over the last thirteen years, anytime he’d seen a woman with even remotely red hair, he’d do a double take, thinking for a fleeting moment it was her. Then, when he realized it wasn’t, he’d be filled with crushing disappointment.

He had one of these moments the other day at the pier. His heart had kicked up hard in his chest as he’d spotted a woman with strawberry-blonde hair across the way. His attention had been pulled from her for just a second, and when he’d turned back, she was gone.

It had been her.

There were certain things that Shep never expected to happen. Seeing Hannah Sterling again would’ve ranked higher on the impossibility chart than having Bruce Springsteen come strolling into his bar singing “Born in the USA.”

What the hell is she doing here?

And the universe surely had to be screwing with him. Seriously, Hannah literally fell back into his life when he had his hands on another woman? Which was the first time in who knew how many months he’d done something like that?

There were tears swimming in her sea-glass-green eyes, and she was breathing unevenly. “My… glasses. They got knocked off.”

He turned and looked behind him, spotting black plastic frames. Andrea moved, scooping them up as she crossed the space and bringing them over.

Andrea handed him the glasses, and he looked down at the lenses, making sure they were clean before he pushed Hannah’s hair back. His fingers slipped through the strands, and he didn’t quite understand why it felt like a punch to the gut. He slid the frames onto her face and balanced them on her slim little nose.

“Thank you,” Hannah said shakily.

Why is she here? When did she get here? How long is she staying? His brain filtered through a hundred questions. But as she was sitting in front of him clearly in pain, and as they had an audience, it wasn’t exactly the time. So he asked the most important question.

“Are you okay?”

“I–I heard something pop when I fell. I can’t really move it.”

“It might be broken,” Andrea said.

“No.” Hannah shook her head, horrified. “I’m sure it’s fine. Really.” She looked away from him as she made a move to get up, letting go of her injured hand. But she gasped in pain and immediately went back to cradling it.

“Can I see it?” Shep reached out, putting his hands on her arms to still her. His palms were on her bare skin.

She gasped again, this time not in pain so much as surprise from the contact, and her gaze returned to his. She didn’t say anything as she held out her hand. He reached out, lightly touching her wrist. She winced as his fingers skimmed her skin. There were no protruding bones, which was a good thing, but if she’d heard something pop, she probably needed to go to the hospital. He’d played sports almost his entire life, and he’d had his fair share of sprains and broken bones. A lot of the time the only way to figure out the difference was with an X-ray.

“Andrea.” Shep let go of Hannah’s hand and looked over his shoulder at the woman behind him. “Can you go get my brother? He’s the guy with glasses behind the bar. His name is Finn. Ask him to get a bag of ice and a clean towel, and then ask him to come here.”

“Yeah.” She nodded before she moved off down the hall.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t know your brother?”

Shep returned his gaze to Hannah. If he didn’t know any better, he thought there was a touch of jealousy there. “Not my girlfriend, babe.”

“Well, I see nothing much has changed.”

“I see nothing’s changed with you, either. You’re still tripping all over yourself when you’re around me.”

“I never tripped all over myself when I was around you.” Color bloomed in her cheeks, and the pain in her eyes was quickly replaced with anger.

“I beg to differ. I distinctly remember you falling off the dock at the marina and straight into the water. It was right after I’d kissed you for the first time.”

“It had just rained. The wood was slick. That had nothing to do with you… or your kiss.”

“All right. Whatever you say.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Your denial is no skin off my nose.”

“I wasn’t tripping all over myself.”

“How is it that you’re even more stubborn than I remember?” Not only that, she was absolutely more stunning as well. He took just a second to study her. Took a second to see all of the subtle, and not so subtle, differences from thirteen years ago.

Her strawberry-blonde hair was slightly redder. She wore it shorter, around her shoulders as opposed to when it had stretched down her back. The waves running through it were messy and so sexy that his fingers itched to plunge into them. And those lips. Man had he ever missed that be