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He pointed at his face. “This?” he deadpanned. “I did this to myself. Tripped over a shoe. True story.”

She burst into laughter and relaxed. He’d always been able to do that—defuse tense situations with humor. Any time Tommy would upset her, she’d escape to her favorite spot by the pool. Jeremy would always find her, make her laugh…and help her plot revenge against her brother. He’d been more than her crush. He’d been her best friend.

And that was all they could be, she reminded herself. “So a shoe blacked your eye?”

“Most of that is shoe polish.” He grinned, then grimaced and touched his lip. “Ow. No more making me smile.”

“I’ll do my best to be dull and boring.” She scrunched up her nose. “Shouldn’t be too hard. I am a lawyer. It’s my job to bore everyone to death. They plead guilty just to shut me up.”

His lips twitched and his eyes narrowed. “Not helping.”

She smiled and busied herself unloading the dishwasher. Anything to keep her hands occupied, and not aching to touch him. He leaned his hip against the counter, sipped his water, and watched her, his eyes dark with curiosity.

“So what have you been up to, besides work?”

She hesitated. “Honestly? Not much.” She chose her words carefully. “Got engaged. Broke up. Finished school. Got a job. Bought this house, and that’s pretty much it. I work seventy hours a week on a good week. Doesn’t leave much time for anything else.”

He studied her face, his eyes far too intense. She squirmed, ducked her head, and yanked a cup out of the dishwasher so hard she almost dropped it.

“Nothing else?” he asked. “Like…relationships? A life?”

“No. Not really.” She closed the dishwasher and banged it just a little too hard. Damn it. “What about you? Got a girlfriend in every town, pining for your return?”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. I can’t even take care of one, let alone a dozen.”

So he was probably single. She swore mentally, in every language she could remember and a few she made up just for the occasion. She didn’t need to know that. Didn’t want the hope that twisted in her gut, or the nervous, fluttering daydreams she’d buried years ago.

She wiped her hands on her skirt. “So…no girlfriend, then?”

“No, I’m single.” His eyes drifted over her, lingering. “Are you hitting on me?”

“No!”

He burst into laughter, then hissed and clapped a hand over his lip. Good. Served him right for teasing her like that. She planted her hands on her hips.

“You jerk. I should’ve known you were giving me a hard time. Some things never change, do they?”

He stilled. The laughter vanished from his eyes, leaving them dark. “No. I guess not. Maybe some things can’t change.” He set his empty bottle on the counter and smoothed a hand over his damp hair. “I should go. Don’t want to intrude. Thanks again for the rescue.”

Erica swallowed heavily and glanced out the window. Almost sunset. She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt and cleared her throat. “Um. You can stay, if you want. It’s getting late anyway. It might be nice to catch up. You can stay in the guest room. Unless you have plans, I mean.”

Say yes, she thought. If he left now, she’d probably never see him again. The last time had been seven years ago. That had been her fault. She wouldn’t let it be her fault if he left too soon, now. Even if she could only have his company, she’d take that much. Seven years was too long without his smile, his laughter.

Seven years was too long not to clear up everything that had gone wrong.

He rubbed his jaw and studied her, his brows knitting. “Are you sure you want me hanging around? It’s been years. For all you know, I’m an escaped convict playing Marine.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “We grew up together. I just saw you naked. I think we’re past the ‘stranger danger’ conversation.”

He spluttered, then trailed into choking laughter. She grinned. It wasn’t often that she’d gotten to make him laugh in return.

“Well, when you put it that way…” he murmured. His eyes met hers. Something indefinable flickered through them, leaving them hot enough to send a bolt of longing straight through her, kick-starting her heart and singing through her blood. “How can I refuse?”

She took a calming breath and forced a smile. She felt lightheaded. “Good,” she said, and hoped Erica Jones, Attorney at Law, could keep up the act tonight. Because girl-next-door Erica, right now, wanted Jeremy so much she could taste him, and she could never let him know.

“Good?” he said, brows lifting.

“What more do you want, a party? Come on. Let’s order pizza. I’ll even get you one with those disgusting mushrooms.”

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