Pamela Hearon - My Way Back to You

He shrugged.

The walk signal came on, and they stepped off the curb. She felt both men’s hands touch the small of her back at the same time. She also felt the simultaneous jerk when their fingers touched and their hands dropped back to their sides. She made it all the way across the street unassisted...and somehow managed to contain her laughter.

Considering how talkative he’d been all through dinner, Jeff had become uncharacteristically quiet as they neared the hotel, uttering only that one cut-down to Spike. Something was bothering him. Probably tomorrow’s goodbye, if she were guessing.

Spike was never at a loss for words, though. Her dad would describe him as the type whose “mouth runs like the clatter bone of a goose’s ass.” As soon as they entered the hotel lobby, he pointed to the lounge. “How about a drink?”

“Not for me,” she answered. “I left my phone in the car, so I’m going to go get it, then head for my room.”

Jeff’s head jerked toward her, and he gave her a hard look. “You can’t go to the garage at night by yourself. I’ll go with you.” He slapped Spike on the arm. “And then I’m going to hit the sack, too. Enjoy your Crown Royal, man. See you tomorrow.”

Alone with Jeff? Gah! She’d seen this coming and tried to avoid it all day. Sure as shootin’, he was going to ask her about her answer this morning. She’d seen the next question in his eyes all day and had been careful not to be alone with him. She needed to have her answer formulated.

He was going to ask why she waited years to date after their split. Not that it was any of his business. But this was Jeff—telling him that would only make him suspect the worst. Of course, the worst was the truth. But how could she admit she’d carried the torch for him far too long? That she’d made a fool of herself—so certain he’d come back and want to be a family again? Had worked long and hard to get over him, and yet she had only, during the past few years, finally felt free of him?

“You don’t have to go with me,” she said as they waited for the elevator.

“Yeah, I do.”

The doors opened and relief flooded her to see several people headed the same direction. But it ended quickly as the small crowd dispersed in different directions when they reached the garage level. Her large SUV wasn’t far from the door, so maybe, if she walked fast, she could keep a light chat going until—

“Mags, you ran from the car this morning because you knew what I wanted to ask you.” Jeff took her elbow and pulled back to slow her pace.

So much for light chatter.

“No use in dredging up the past, Jeff.” She hit the button on her key fob to unlock the car door.

“But I need to know. Did you not date for years because of me? Did I make you distrust men?”

He didn’t suspect...which, of course, could only mean he hadn’t gone through what she had.

That realization pinched her heart enough to leave a bruise.

She gave a thoughtful pause as she opened the door to retrieve her phone from the console. She slipped it into her purse and closed the door, then turned to meet his earnest gaze. “You didn’t make me distrust men,” she answered honestly. “I distrusted myself.”

A flicker of relief shot from his dark eyes, followed quickly by a shadow. She nodded toward the elevator and started moving in that direction. “I couldn’t risk failing again.” Keeping control of the conversation before he could ask any more questions seemed like her best option now. “Too much depended on my being successful. I had a child to take care of and a career to think about.” She stopped as the elevator door opened, relieved to find the car empty this time.

A short ride to the third floor, and this would be over.

They stepped in and Jeff punched the buttons as she continued. “I wasn’t sure I was capable of handling those things, so I couldn’t even think about throwing a relationship into the mix.” This wasn’t as difficult as she’d thought. Everything she was saying was the truth—she was simply leaving out a few details.

“And once I opened the salon, there was yet another thing demanding my time.” Her stomach gave a jolt as the elevator came to a stop on the third floor. Jeff stepped out with her, just as he’d done the previous afternoon, only this time he started walking with her to her door.

“Something you said last night at dinner kept me awake.” His voice was low as they made their way down the hallway. “And, coupled with what you said this morning, it’s bothered the hell out of me all day.”

“What did I say?” Her spine had pulled into a tight curve at the touch of his hand, pressed absently to the small of her back as they walked. When they reached her door, her shoulders were squared as she turned to face him.

“It was the part about admitting to yourself you’d made a huge mistake. Again. ”

“O-kay...?”

His hands gripped his hips, and he shrugged. “You can’t think we were a mistake, Mags. If we were a mistake, that makes Russ a mistake.”

She leaned against the door, closing her eyes to the raw emotion in his. “You’re right. Zeke was a mistake, but referring to us that way was a poor choice of words.”

She heard the rustle of his movement and opened her eyes to find him pressing a forearm against the door frame, his eyes hooded with doubt.

“Russ is the best thing that ever came into my life.” His voice was heavy with emotion. “And I know it’s been difficult for you. But I want you to understand that it’s not been easy for me, either. Being so far away from him—not being able to see him every day—has been hard on me.”

The sincerity in his eyes pulled at her heartstrings. She reached up to touch his face in a motherly fashion, to console, the way she would with Russ when she saw that same expression on his face. But as soon as her palm connected with his cheek, the touch became something else entirely—something not at all motherly. It became a lover’s caress as his heat scorched her, sent tingles through her arm and into her chest...down into her belly and lower.

The look in his eyes changed in an instant.

He felt it, too.

Electricity charged the atmosphere around them, encapsulating them in its trembling heat. Her eyes held to his steely gaze like a magnet. He leaned in slightly, and she pressed her back against the door but found no escape. Her hand, still on his cheek, should be pushing him away. So why did it slide around to the back of his neck and pull him closer?

The world slowed as his mouth neared hers, and she licked her lips in anticipation. She closed her eyes at the last second, allowing this moment to take center stage in her mind as it had so often in her dreams. The tenderness of his lips, the familiar sweetness...the flutter in her stomach that all too soon would become an aching need.

She’d entered a danger zone and was much too old and wise now to ignore the signs.

Sliding her hand from the back of his neck to his chest, she didn’t push him away, but did apply enough pressure to let him know this needed to stop. In answer, he removed his mouth from hers slowly but didn’t straighten, staying close enough that his breath continued to feather across her lips, warming them with the caress.

“Russ was never a mistake,” she whispered. “But letting this go any further would be.”

She felt the burst of air from his disgruntled sigh, but he stepped back, buckling his chin and giving her a nod.

“Good night, Mags.” He touched her cheek with the back of his finger.

“Night.”

She made short work of getting into her room, barely making it to the bed before her knees buckled under the weight of the moment.