Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Nicole expelled the breath she’d been holding, hoping things were as simple as he claimed. This, she could deal with.
“I already explained why I broke up with you. I don’t want to hurt you, so please don’t make me say it again.” She stared into his green eyes, hating that he was putting her in the position of having to rehash the breakup.
“You said we didn’t have sizzle. Chemistry. Then I come here and find you with that cop.”
“Detective,” she replied, then realized she was echoing Sam and managed not to smile.
“That detective is the reason you left me.”
“That’s ridiculous. I barely knew him when I was here last.” But he had been the catalyst that made her realize what she had with Tyler wasn’t enough. Still, why tell him and dig at his pride?
Tyler ran his hand through his closely cropped hair. “I’m not going anywhere, you know. I’m staying until you come to your senses.”
Nicole stiffened. Such extreme behavior was not Tyler’s normal MO, and now she had to wonder—again—whether there was more to him being here. What did he know? Was he aware of his father’s activities, and on what side of the illegality did he fall? She knew what her heart told her, but she couldn’t risk her safety by mentioning she knew his firm was money laundering. What if he suddenly turned on her or, worse, called in the Russian mob to handle her if he couldn’t?
“I don’t . . . You can’t . . . What?! Why would you stick around?” Nicole finally sputtered.
Completely unruffled, he replied, “Because we belong together.” He reached across the table in an attempt to place his hand over hers, but she was quick enough to shift her shaking hands to her lap.
His eyes flickered with disappointment.
“I’m happy here,” she told him.
He raised an eyebrow in an arrogant expression she knew well. Tyler was many things—a gentleman, yes, but also occasionally entitled. “We’ll see.”
She shook her head. “I’m going to go about my life,” she warned him. And that meant seeing Sam.
“You do that. And I’ll be here to remind you of everything you left behind.”
Why? Because he thought they were such a love match? This determined behavior in the face of her rejection was so unlike him, she believed to the depths of her soul more was going on than he was saying.
“Go home,” she tried once more.
He shook his head and pinned her with a steady, certain, determined glare. “I’m not going anywhere without you. There’s too much at stake.”
* * *
The morning crowd kept Macy busy after her friends left, but not so busy that she didn’t notice that Tyler remained behind for a while, obviously thinking over what had transpired between him and Nicole. Nicole, she’d noticed, had looked for Sam when she left, and had been disappointed to find him already gone.
What a tangled mess, Macy thought. Something the likes of which Serendipity hadn’t seen since . . . well, since Jenna left Sam at the altar for Brett, his best friend. Sam had had a rough time then. He’d been so humiliated and embarrassed, and everyone in town had gossiped about it for months. She shook her head, glad Sam was on the winning side of things this time around.
The rest of the day passed quickly, but Macy was embarrassed to admit she’d thought of Tyler Stanton more than a few times. He wasn’t her usual type, too buttoned up for Serendipity, but that didn’t seem to matter when he was so darn sexy. She sighed, wondering how many boundaries she’d be crossing by flirting with him. Just a little. Nicole was happily involved with Sam—or wanted to be—so what could it hurt?
She was pondering that very question around five o’clock, knowing she could leave soon to head home and change before the seven o’clock softball game.
Tonight, the cops were playing the firefighters. Hot didn’t begin to describe the field, she thought with a wry grin. Too bad she’d known all these guys since they were boys, dated a few, and was interested in none. She lifted her gaze at the same moment he strode into the restaurant.
“Hello, Ms. Donovan.”
“Macy,” she reminded him. “And we’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
He shook his head, obviously unsure what to make of her. Which was fine. Many had that initial reaction. She said what she thought, joked even if only she understood, and tried to enjoy life.
“I’d like a seat. Counter or a table is fine,” he said.
“Take your pick.” She gestured to the line of empty booths.
He chose the first table closest to the hostess stand, and she eyed him with pure female appreciation as he took the few steps to sit down. He was wearing the same khaki pants as earlier, and she took in his very fine ass that accented his lean form.