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That’s how long she’d been in the tiny Texas town called Williamsport. The people here were friendly, the store owners were even friendlier, and everything was just the way she imagined it would be. Her boss had come to personally welcome her into the town, and they’d had dinner last night with his family. He had two kids, a kind wife, and had nothing but good things to say about this tiny little blip on the map they called a town.
It was all she dreamed of, and more.
It was perfect.
But she was…she felt…lost.
She’d seen him, through the window. He’d watched her go, his face torn, and he’d waved from the pub across the street. She had no idea how she’d known he was there, but it was like some sixth sense kicked in and the hair rose on the back of her neck. Sure enough, as she’d turned slowly, he’d been there.
Waving.
Just like he promised.
God, she hated him. Even worse? She hated that she didn’t really hate him at all. She should. She wanted to. But she loved him, and nothing was going to change that.
Not even him not feeling the same way about her.
“Get it together, Shelby,” she muttered under her breath, bending over to rip the tape off a box. After opening it, she unwrapped an item and swallowed hard when she saw it was a mug. Not just any mug—the one that Eric had always used. She stared down at it, tears blurring her vision, and tightened her grip on it.
Walking toward the garbage, she had it extended over the trash can when—
“That’s a waste of a perfectly good mug,” said a voice she knew as well as her own.
She jumped, gasping, and dropped it into the trash can.
It clanged against the can she’d thrown in there earlier, and she turned around slowly.
Eric stood there, wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that said Got beer? on it. She’d never seen him in anything besides a suit, or naked, but that wasn’t what threw her off.
It was that Eric was here, in Texas, in the first place.
What was he doing here?
She pressed her hand to her chest. It trembled, a telltale sign of her nerves, so she pressed it harder against her racing heart. “What are you—?”
“You should really lock your front door. Small town or not, it’s just safer.”
“Yeah.” She finally pulled herself together and accepted that this was, indeed, reality. Eric Hamilton was in her new home. “I will from now on, believe me.”
He ran his hand through his hair. It looked like he’d been doing that a lot. It stood up slightly, and had less curl than usual. “It was hard to find this place.”
“How did you?” she asked out of curiosity. “I never told you where I was going.”
“I know.” He ducked his head slightly. “I had to bribe a coworker of yours back home to find out what town you moved to. Needless to say, Wyatt is taking her on a date Friday night.”
She swallowed. “Marcy?”
“Yeah.”
She said nothing.
Eric looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. Heck, maybe a few weeks. She hadn’t either, really. Funny, she used to enjoy having her queen-size bed to herself. After only a handful of nights sharing it with Eric, suddenly it felt too big, too empty, to sleep in. No matter how many times she washed the sheets, she swore she could still smell him there, next to her. She’d even bought new sheets. The feeling remained. She’d taken to sleeping on the couch.
It hurt less.
Why was he here?
“This place is nice. It’s bigger than your apartment back in Atlanta.”
