Page 7 of Sorry Season


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He grinned, noticing an immediate softening around her mouth. She wanted to smile back, he could tell. They’d always been like this: he’d try to charm her, she’d try her utmost to pretend it wasn’t working before giving in.

“How about we have this chat over a Death by Chocolate next door after you lock up?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You like theChocolate Toad?”

“What’s not to like? Great chocolate and a big, happy, green guy looking down on us while we talk.” He leaned forward and crooked his finger at her, pleased when she met him half way. “You’re not the only one who remembers things, you know. I bet chocolate is still your staple food.”

Camryn couldn’t move. She wanted to. Heck, she wanted to run away as fast as her boots would carry her, far from this man and the power he had over her.

After all she’d been through, after the pain of losing him, she should turn around right this very minute and walk away without a backward glance.

So why was she standing here, mesmerized by the twinkle in his eyes, captivated by his sense of humor, with the word ‘yes’ hovering on her lips?

“Come on. You deserve a good Death by Chocolate after a hard day’s work. And I really think it’s important you hear what I have to say.” He leaned forward until their faces were inches apart, his clean, woodsy smell as natural and outdoorsy as the rest of him, flooding her senses, tempting her to do crazy things like she had all those years ago. “You know you want to.”

“Yes,” she murmured on a reluctant sigh, caught up in the power of persuasion and something more, something scary and indefinable, a soul-deep attraction to a man who set off sparks by simply tilting his head in acknowledgement she’d lost her mind and accepted his invitation when nothing he could say would make up for what he’d done six years earlier.

“Great.” He straightened, breaking the intimate spell woven around them. “In that case, I better down this coffee, finish my business, and wait for you to close up?”

Business. She snapped her fingers, wondering how she could’ve forgotten her proposed meeting with the project manager.

“Actually, I’ve just remembered I’m meeting a project manager about some renovations I’m doing.”

She didn’t understand his smirk. “Best in the building industry, so I’ve been told.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You obviously know Dirk and Mike, but I’m surprised the guys have been discussing my plans with you?”

His smile widened and her heart sank as realization dawned.

“Why wouldn’t they? I’m the best project manager around. Ask anybody.”

His reappearance must’ve really thrown her if she’d missed the connection between him turning up here, knowing the guys, and her scheduled meeting. Talk about slow on the uptake but somehow, she didn’t care about anything but how let down she felt.

He’d said he’d come her to see her but it was obviously for business reasons. And of course he’d have to mention their shared past, smooth the way if she were to hire him. She’d been such a fool. Again.

“I know what you’re thinking but don’t.” He held up a hand. “Just for the record, I came here to see you, to talk to you. As for you needing a project manager, that was my trump card if you’d tried to boot me out the door the minute I set foot in here.”

There he went again, reading her so easily and she quickly slid an impassive mask into place, knowing it was too late. He wasn’t just here on business but that didn’t change facts: she’d loved him, he’d walked out on her, and there wasn’t one damn thing he could say to change that.

“Come on, Cam. Catching up can’t hurt. And if I can help out with your renovations, all the better. I’m good at what I do.”

She still had time to fob him off, to come to her senses, to give him some feeble excuse why she’d rather pick up a sledge hammer and bang the walls down herself rather than have him involved in her renovations.

But that was the coward’s way out and if she’d learned anything since she’d arrived in Melbourne as a naïve nineteenyear old ready to take on the world while mending a broken heart, it was to face things head on.

Besides, she needed the renovations completed sooner rather than later or she’d lose the chance to expand into the apartment next to hers. She’d lived in what she affectionately termed her ‘shoebox’ since she’d opened the café, pouring all her funds into making theNichegreat. But with the café doing better and the opportunity to enlarge her living space, she had to strike now. She’d been given the run around and was at the end of her tether. She needed Blane’s skills ASAP and now he was here she should at least hear what he had to say—regarding business only, that is.

With a resigned sigh, she glanced at her watch. “I’ll meet you next door in forty-five minutes,” she said, half hoping he’d renege once he heard how long he’d have to wait. The other half of her was already doing a mental scrummage through her handbag for lip-gloss, pressed powder compact, and a brush, essentials she’d need to make herself half way presentable for their date.

Date?

Stupid slip-up. Theirs was a business meeting, that’s all. But she’d agreed to meet with Blane Andrews, the guy who’d broken her heart without a backward glance.

Was shenuts?

“Forty-five minutes it is.”

He lifted his coffee cup toward her in a toast before strolling away, his even-paced strides achingly familiar. Blane in all his laid-back glory never hurried anywhere.

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