Excerpt
Copyright 2023 @Lauren Helms
“I have so many questions,” I say.
“About?” He chuckles. His hand reaches out like he’s going to
touch me again but drops his hand into his pocket.
“You being here in Indy. Meeting with Ruth,” I explain. I
won’t share the Googling sleuth Stella just performed.
“Ah, yeah, it’s been a hell of a long time, Lays.” He uses
the old nickname like it’s still second nature to him. The reminder of how he
insisted on adding the S when we merely acquaintances, friends at best. While
we had chemistry, it was never the main factor in the relationship we had. His
nickname for me had always baffled me, but I wouldn’t deny that I loved it.
“Ten years,” I say, nearly in a whisper.
A seductive gleam flowers in his eyes as he grins back at me.
“You look damn good, Layla.” In my building and meeting with my grandmother.
I smile at his compliment. “So do you, Cole.” He’s wearing is
flirty smile, so if I don’t direct him off this flirty path, I’ll regret it
later.
“Why [EmL1] [LH2] were you meeting with Ruth?” I try not to
sound stern, but I’m not flirting right now.
He lets out a sigh. “She’s apparently my matchmaker now.”
A heavy ball forms deep in my gut. That’s what I was afraid
of. She’s going to find him a match, and that will be that. I set my lips in a
firm line, switching on my professional mode.
“Well, that’s perfect. Ruth is the best.” My eyes dart away
from his face. I can’t continue to look at him. He practically belongs to someone
else now.
He doesn’t seem to notice the difference in my demeanor,
which is good, but his next words cause me to reinforce the walls.
“I want to catch up. Soon. Can we set a date?”
I gulp before looking back at him, opting to look at his
chest rather than his face. He’s wearing a black winter jacket, but it’s
unzipped, his dark-colored, green maybe, button-down showing through.
“Oh, yeah, maybe,” I say.
“Let me have your phone. I had to get a new number a few
years ago.” He reaches out his hand, his palm face up. I stare at it a moment,
then pull out my phone against my better judgment.
I assume he’s entering his number and I’m correct when his
own phone pings from somewhere on his person. His grin is huge as he hands my
phone back to him.
“Now I’ve got your number.” He reaches out one more time and
squeezes my bicep. “I’ve got to run. Potential new distributor meeting.”
I nod, forcing a smile.
Damn, he’s so attractive and all I want to do is snag his
hand and pull him over to a table and catch up. But that won’t happen.
“All right. It was good seeing you,” I tell him. Truth.
Then he catches me off guard, pulling me into him for a hug.
“So fucking good seeing you, Lays.” I feel his warm breath in my hair before he
steps away. “Promise we will catch up soon, yeah?”
I nod, still taking in everything about that hug. His manly,
woodsy scent, his warmth, the feel of his body around mine. His chuckle follows
him as he leaves. I watch him leave until I can’t see him anymore.
What just happened?
I look down at my hand and see my phone still in it. I swipe
open the messages to see what he texted himself.
Me: you’re still so hot, Cole.
#perfection
Rereading
the message from himself, he replies and my eyebrow rises.
Cole: Damn, Lays, you know how to make a
guy blush.
I
snort at his bullshit reply with a quick eye roll emoji. Even though he’s
probably halfway down the street by now, I can practically hear his laughter.
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