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Date. She was going on a date with Zane. A trip down the Hudson, he’d said. She set down the coffee mug on the counter, hugged herself, then pirouetted around the small dining table in the center of her kitchen.
The idea that Zane’s heart was big enough to forgive her for what she’d done filled her with joy.
Getting ahead of yourself, Lori.
He hadn’t outright said that he would forgive her. She had a long road ahead of her to win back his trust after he thought she’d cheated on him. The look of anguish on his face when he’d asked her about the man she’d supposedly cheated with had punched a hole in her stomach. Thirteen years of forced absence hadn’t dulled Zane’s pain, and she’d caused that.
And he still didn’t know the real reason she’d broken off their relationship in the first place. Nor did she have a clue how to tell him. The two of them were a long way from happy ever after. She had enormous health challenges to cope with, and her time on earth could end at any moment, which was the main reason she’d kept away from him all these years.
But with age and maturity had come a realization that everyone’s time was limited. Not a single human being knew how long they had before fate stepped in and called “Time’s up.” She could just as easily die from being struck crossing the road as her donor heart quitting.
It didn’t change her mind about the decision she’d made at eighteen. She still stood by that. If he’d known how desperately she was clinging to life he’d have dropped out of college, left behind his family and friends and everything familiar to fly halfway around the world to be with her. But now they were so much older, and wiser, and living on the same small island, didn’t they both deserve a slice of happiness, no matter how brief their time together might be?
Grinning, she yanked open the top drawer and riffled through. At this time of year, it’d be cool on the Hudson, but still balmy on land. She’d need layers. But she also wanted to look sexy, feminine. God, why was this so difficult? None of these clothes would do. All she owned was attire suitable for a work environment or casual gear for hanging around the apartment.
And then she spied the perfect item, tucked away at the bottom of the stack of clothes. It wasn’t sexy or feminine, but it’d send Zane a message that she’d never forgotten him, that she’d kept a part of him with her, always.
She shook out the fifteen-year-old Mets shirt and brought it to her nose. Zane’s scent was long gone, but she smelled it anyway. She’d discovered this shirt on arrival in India, tucked away in her suitcase. When she’d asked Mom about it, Mom had smiled and said Zane wanted it to be a surprise. Most nights she’d slept in that shirt, but after… after she broke things off, she’d put it away and never wore it again.
Until now.
Taking a breath, she pulled the shirt over her head and paired it with blue jeans and flat boots. As she laced them up, the knock she’d expected came.
Heart climbing into her throat, she answered the door. Zane stood on the other side, his dark hair neatly styled and gracing the collar of the black button-down he’d matched with jeans and black shoes. His mid-gray woolen overcoat hung to mid-thigh. Zane had always worn clothes well. Some people just did, and he was one of them.
The scent of expensive cologne mingled with fresh bodywash engulfed her, and she almost leaned in and sniffed him like she had with the shirt. Yeah, that wouldn’t be awkward at all. But he smelled so good, and he looked even better.
He raked his gaze over her, and his eyes flared. “You… you kept it.”
She gripped the hem of her—his—shirt and shifted from side to side. “I’d never throw it away. It holds far too much sentimental value.”
“God, Lori,” he rasped. “I can’t believe that after all these years you still have it.”
She gave him a nervous smile. This felt too much like a first date rather than a reacquaintance with a man who knew her better than any other person in the world, save her parents. Or rather, used to know. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”
“Yeah.” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, glancing around. “Nice place.”
“It’s only temporary. My realtor is searching for a more permanent residence.”
He moved closer until they were inches apart. Strands of her hair had come loose from her ponytail, and he tucked them behind her ear, then caressed her earlobe. A raft of goose bumps raced across her nape, and she shivered, her stomach tied in delicious knots.
“That means you’re staying in New York?”
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his, couldn’t blink. Couldn’t move. “I don’t think I could leave even if I wanted to,” she whispered.
“Because of your work with Dayton?”
“Yes.” She lifted her hand, her movements shaky, and caressed his jaw. “And because I’d love the chance to get to know you again.”
His melted-chocolate eyes bored into hers. “I’d like that, too.”
His softly spoken words, filled with silent promise, forced her thighs together to ease the growing ache in her core. It didn’t work. Only one thing would slake her thirst for this man.
Him, her, and a bed. Or not. As long as they were naked, she didn’t care.
But her cravings would have to wait. They had thirteen years to catch up on, and while diving between the sheets would be hugely satisfying, intuition told her neither of them were ready to take that step. He’d recently ended a long-term relationship, and she had to prove to him that she was worthy of his love. Not to mention the thorny issue of the scar she carried from her operation. It wouldn’t be easy to explain that away without spilling every grain of truth.
She slid her arms into her coat and zipped it up. Zane stuck out his elbow, and she slipped her hand inside. He flagged down a cab, and they rode out to the pier, reminiscing as they passed familiar spots where they’d hung out as kids. Looking back on happier moments helped break the ice, and by the time they arrived at the pier, all signs of awkwardness had vanished and the easiness they’d always enjoyed while in each other’s company had returned.
