Second Chance for Romance полностью

“I don’t know. We both have school.”

“Yeah.”

“Christmas?”

“Or Thanksgiving,” I said.

She grimaced. “I can’t. I promised to spend it with Regan.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t say it like that, Paul. She’s my friend.”

“She’s more than that.”

“So? Besides, you have ‘friends’ too. One of them’s my sister! ”

I started to say something snarky but turned it into a deep breath instead.

“Look,” I said at last, “we both have lives. And we both have other…

friends.” I thought of Christy and felt a jolt of surprise. Where the hell did that come from? I shook it off and continued, “We also have a history together. A pretty good one, if I do say so myself.”

“True.”

“So let’s not fight, especially now. I don’t know if things’ll work out between us. I want them to, but we’ll have to see.”

“I know. Me too.”

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her forehead.

“I don’t want to go,” she said. “Not now.”

“I know. But you have to. I have to. Like you said, we both have school.”

“You can come visit. In LA”

“Or you could come to Knoxville. Isn’t Regan’s family still there?”

She nodded.

“Does she ever visit?”

“Not much. Her parents are kind of… distant.”

“Ah. That makes sense. From what I know about her.”

“We can write, though,” she said. “And talk on the phone.”

“That’d be nice. It’ll be fun to get to know you again.”

She arched a playful eyebrow. “You mean last night and this morning weren’t enough?”

“You tell me,” I said with a grin.

She grinned as well. “No.”

“So it’s settled. We’ll write and call, and see each other at Christmas.”

“Okay.” She looked up, and I wiped a tear from her cheek.

“Hey,” I said, my voice hoarse with emotion, “it’ll be all right.”

“I know.”

I was going to say something else, but the gate agent announced final

boarding. I looked around in annoyance and wondered when they’d announced the start of boarding.

“I’d better go,” Gina said.

“Unless you wanna ride with me to Knoxville.”

She smiled. Then she tilted her head up, and my lips touched hers. The kiss went from tender to hungry in two heartbeats.

When we finally separated, the gate agent was blushing and trying not to smile. She also gestured to speed things up. She looked apologetic, but she had a schedule.

I gave her a nod of thanks and turned Gina toward the entrance of the jetway. “Go,” I said softly. “I’ll write you tomorrow. I promise.”

She turned and kissed me again before she crossed the gate area. She looked back once and waved, and then she was gone.

Wren was sitting on the living room couch in a warm circle of light cast by a table lamp. She was studying, but she closed her notes and textbook when I came through the front door.

I made a point of looking at my watch.

“All right, fine,” she admitted. “I was waiting up for you. Welcome home, by the way.”

“Um… thanks?”

“Why do you have to be so suspicious?”

“Gee, I dunno. Maybe because you’re usually up to something?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Wren, it’s late,” I said. “I’ve had a long day, and I just wanna go to bed.”

“Have you eaten?”

I blinked at the non sequitur.

“Did you eat dinner?” She read the answer in my expression. “Want me to fix you something?”

“Sure,” I said after a moment. And let’s get this interrogation over, I added, but kept it to myself.

I sat at the kitchen table while she toasted bread and made a roast beef and tomato sandwich. I took the first bite and looked at it in surprise.

“Creamy horseradish,” she said before I could ask. “Gives it a little kick.”

“It’s good.”

She shrugged. “It’s simple.”

“Maybe. But you make even simple things special.”

“Why, thank you,” she said sincerely.

“You’re welcome.” I ate another bite and looked at her. “But before you ask, the answer is ‘no comment.’”

“Ask what?” she said unconvincingly.

“You know, you’re not the only person who can read people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You knew I was hungry. And I know you’re dying to ask about the weekend. It’s obvious.”

“Okay. Did you have fun?”

“Of course I did. The bride was beautiful, the ceremony was blissfully short, and everyone got drunk at the reception. End of story.”

“And did you—?”

“No comment.”

“I was going to ask, ‘Did you see Gina?’”

“Sure you were.”

“Well, did you?”

“You know I did.”

“How’d it go?”

“Fine.”

“That’s all?”

“No comment.”

“So you slept with her?”

“No comment.”

“Are you back together now?”

“No comment.”

She huffed. “Seriously? That’s all you’re going to say? ‘No comment’?”

“Might as well get used to it,” I said lightly. “If you’re going to be in PR, you’re going to say it a lot. Especially if you go into politics.”

“For your information, my focus is corporate communications. But don’t try to change the subject.”

I finished the sandwich and tossed my napkin onto the plate. “Thanks.

That was good. Exactly what I needed.”

“You’re welcome. You’re still dodging the question.”

“And I’m going to keep dodging it every time you ask.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Why do you? ”

“See,” she sniped, “this is why it’d never work between us.”