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“Apologies for my tardiness, I—”
“Ah, how nice of you to join us,” Declan mutters and my pulse flatlines. “I was just going over the requirements of the position.”
I stand in a rush, feeling the world cant sideways. Whatever else Declan says falls on deaf ears as I steady myself, gripping the edge of his desk.
Oh, god. I’m gonna puke.
“Pen?” Logan says cautiously before entering my periphery.
I don’t know how it’s possible. I haven’t heard from or spoken to him since he stole my heart all those years ago and then disappeared altogether.
I suck in a shaky breath as I gradually bring my gaze to his. Gone is the boyish charm that had brightened his face; replaced by a sharpened jawline and eyes somehow a darker, more dangerous shade of blue than the soft, welcoming one I remember.
No, this blue will drown me the minute I go too deep, and it pairs all too nicely with a scowl that’s hardened with time and been cut with suspicion.
“Are you all right?” he asks, and I want to beg him to stop talking. To just shut his beautiful face for a minute so I can hate him appropriately.
But he’s filled out significantly, all that muscle stretching and flexing beneath his dress shirt and slacks making me dizzy. All at once memories of the two of us—who we used to be—assault me.
I’m fighting the urge to throw my arms around his neck for how relieved I am to see him as fiercely as the urge to slap him for what he’s done.
Twelve. Years. That’s how long I’ve spent cursing and missing him, and wondering if he was still alive out there, cursing and missing me, too.
But the what if’s and the could’ve been’s no longer matter.
I’ve worked too damn hard to erase this man from my memory to let him throw me off now.
CHAPTER TWO
Logan
Ida takes one of the sweet pecan muffins I made from the tray, testing the weight and feel in her knobby hands before trying a bite. Her keen eyes squint as she deciphers the layers of flavors, and I wait patiently, trying not to break a sweat.
“Perfect,” she says, her voice sharp and proud, if not a bit shaky with age. “Though adding a touch of cinnamon would really give these puppies some warmth.”
I grin at my old friend. “Next time.”
Hercules, Ida’s chihuahua, yips his excitement when I pinch the rounded edge and toss him a bite.
“Well, go on and get to work, baby. We don’t want you getting in trouble for being late.”
I cross her knick-knack-filled apartment to the electric-blue recliner where I left my suit jacket. I’m already late, but I’m not going to tell her that—or that I lied to skip out on a meeting with my father and the men holding the key to our newest investment.
Ida and Hercules are two of three living beings that bring me any semblance of joy, and the less my father knows about them, the better. “Don’t apologize. There’s no way I was skipping our twice rescheduled muffin lesson.”
Her wrinkled lips lift in a smile, painted the same cherry red as the glasses she pushes higher up on her nose. “I’m going to make you the most eligible bachelor in Keerah, just you watch.”
“You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you,” I say.
Across the room, an antique grandfather clock chimes, and a cuckoo clock and several others chirp with it.
As always, Hercules sees me to the door, his little paws tapping against the tile, and I can’t help but smile at all the odds and ends Ida has acquired through the years. Her friends here in Honey Hollow have even dubbed her a friend collector, and if I’m honest, I’m honored to have a spot in that collection.
I don’t get far before the woman’s fussing over my suit jacket, straightening it while reminding me of the party she and her friends are planning. “Don’t forget about our sunset soiree in a couple of weeks.”
“I’ll be there, I promise.”
When she’s satisfied that I’m put together, she pats my chest and I bend so she can place a chaste kiss on my cheek. “You know, Mrs. Henderson has a granddaughter about your age… Maybe I should invite her?”
