Page 24 of Captivating Mr. Second Chance

Wrapping his hand around her neck, he leaned down to her. “I lived in so many places, all over the world, but my home is here, and when I heard what happened between you and that Australian chef, I was furious. I was mad because if I’d been the man I wanted to be back then, if I’d done what I wanted to do, maybe you wouldn’t have been with him in the first place. Maybe you’d have been with me instead.”

“That’s a lot of ‘maybe’s.” She whirled away from him. “But it was a long time ago. We were kids—”

“We were kids,” he said, cutting her off. “And I know what I felt for you was real.” With his hand on her elbow, he spun her back around to him, halting whatever argument she had on those bee-stung lips of hers. “I need you to know how I felt because my reaction to that—” he motioned to the air next to her ear “—phone call is jealousy. Laney, I was hesitant back then because I didn’t think you could feel about me the way I felt about you. But I know better now. I’m not going to stand by and let you go without letting you know how I feel.”

He hadn’t realized that she’d curled her hands into his shirt until she was tugging on it, silently inviting him to take what he wanted. And what he wanted was a kiss. With one hand around her waist and the other on her jaw, he bent to her.

Her lips were soft, and she tasted exactly like he remembered, and he pulled her closer, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. Ten years—ten long years—and she still had the ability to melt him into a puddle at her feet.

With a light pull at her bottom lip, he backed away, and a quiet groan of protest sounded from the back of her throat. A few seconds passed before she opened her eyes to him.

He grinned down at her. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She bobbed her head, a little like a rag doll, as if he had kissed all her words away. And it was possible he had, because she silently circled away from him and made her way upstairs.

Let her think aboutthaton her date.

8

Friday, Laney contemplated her reasons for canceling her date with George and staying home instead. One hour, twenty-seven minutes, and counting until she had to meet him at the Mediterranean place downtown, and she was already sweating. Starfished out on her bed, she texted the girls.SOS SOS SOS

A few minutes later, Gem, Bronte, and Sam were all on her screen. FaceTime was a miracle.

“I don’t want to go,” Laney said without preamble.

“Why not?” Sam asked, lifting a water bottle to her lips.

“I don’t know what to do. I haven’t been on a first date in…” She did the quick mental math. “Four years.”

Gem flicked her hand. “It hasn’t changed since then. You go out, you eat, you talk.”

Laney wrinkled her nose. “How would you know? You haven’t been on a first date in almost as long.”

Gem held up an orange popsicle, one of the few things that didn’t make her nauseous while pregnant. She’d been sick almost her whole first pregnancy, and this second one was turning out the same way. “Yeah, and I’m paying for it now.”

“I think this is a good idea,” Bronte said. “George seemed like a really nice guy for you to rebound with.”

“I don’t need a rebound.”

Gem pointed the popsicle at her screen. “Yes, you do. You can’t hide forever.”

Even though Gem was exactly right, Laney didn’t want to admit it. Yes, she was aware that she had to leave her hermit life behind, but she wasn’t prepared to do anything other than crawl out of the shell she’d come to find comfort in. “I’m not hiding,” she said. “I’m…gestating on what I want to do with my life.”

Gem snorted. “You’re gestating some cobwebs between your legs is what you’re doing.”

Bronte and Sam laughed like the traitors they were.

Laney flipped them all the bird.

“Come on,” Sam said. “You deserve to be taken out on a nice date, and according to Bronte, this guy can ease you back into it.”

Bronte nodded enthusiastically, and Laney groaned. “I don’t even know what to wear.”

“You have a closet full of clothes,” Sam said, “I’m sure you’ll find something.”

“Make sure your underwear is cute.”

Laney rolled her eyes at Bronte’s suggestion. “They’re a nice pair of high-waisted cotton.”

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