Page 7 of View With Your Heart

“I’m Gavin Scott,” I stated. “I’m telling you, so we won’t be strangers.”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you my name,” she said, and I stared at her, surprised she meant it. She wasn’t going to tell me her name.

“Henrietta,” I said, and she continued staring, those blue eyes reflecting in the movie’s light. “No, Susan.”

Her brows drew together. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to guess your name. Violet.” I snapped my fingers. “Or Janice.”

“You’re making me sound like an old lady.” She frowned. “And you’ll never guess my name. It’s not . . . normal.”

“What is it? Bullfrog?”

“No.”

“How about Bucket?”

“What? No.” She laughed again.

“I’m just trying to come up with unusual names.”

“You’ll never guess,” she warned before music drew our attention. The movie had ended, and I wondered where the time had gone.

“Thanks for the licorice,” she said, standing with a mostly full tub of popcorn.

“Thanks for the date, Candy.” I stood as well and faced her. Her eyes widened at the name.

“Candy? That’s not my name, either.”

“Well, you look sweet to me,” I teased, and she broke into an honest laugh, one that was loud and had her bending at the waist.

“That was so cheesy,” she admitted. I had to agree, but I didn’t want her to walk away without telling me her name.

“So, Candy, seeing as you won’t tell me your name, how do I ask for a second date?”

“Was this a first?” she asked. Her eyes were innocent as she looked at me. My response was a smile.

“Guess you’ll just have to find me,” she said, her voice dropping as she teased. At least, I thought she was teasing me, but as she started walking backward out of the aisle, holding the popcorn tub like a shield before her, I realized she was serious.

“Ah, a mystery to solve? This will be my summer goal. I’ll get your name, my pretty, your tub of popcorn and a second date, too,” I warned, poorly imitating the Wicked Witch of the West and wringing my hands together. Way to frighten her, Gavin, I told myself, but a smile broke out on her face, wide and bright in the dim light of the closing credits, and I was the one gotten.

“I look forward to you accomplishing your goal,” she said, turning her back to me, spinning out of the row and rushing up the aisle before I realized what she said.

She welcomed the chase.

My thoughts return to the woman I saw on the beach earlier. Britton. It was an unusual name. Where has she been? How has she been? It’s obvious she has a child, so she must be married, maybe. The idea saddens me. It’s not that another man doesn’t deserve her, but for some reason, I wonder if she’s happy. Of course, she’s happy, though, why wouldn’t she be? More questions haunt me. I wonder if we ever could have worked somehow . . . if we could have been happy.

The probability doesn’t seem likely.

When I met her at eighteen, I was hell-bent on getting out of here.

When I saw her again at twenty-five, I only wanted to have sex with her.

What a reckless, wild weekend that had been. Her body. My hotel room. She let me do everything and anything to her.

I give into the smile curling my lips, recalling those forty-eight hours. My team played in Detroit, and after the three-day series, we had a short break. Only a few hours from the largest metro area in Michigan, Traverse City had the lake, good bars, and the prospect of getting away. It was supposed to be a quick trip in and out. I didn’t bother telling my family I was close. When I ran into Britton, all my plans changed anyway.

Take 4