Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,253

it simply a case of opposites attract? Or was there more to it?

Sighing, I gave up trying to solve the riddle and admitted the truth.

There’s no way this can work. I should just leave.

I tidied up the cottage, packed my bags, and called Georgia, explaining that due to a family emergency I was leaving earlier than planned, but I’d be available by phone or FaceTime or Skype or whatever she wanted to use to keep in touch moving forward. She thanked me for my time and said she’d contact me as soon as they’d had a chance to discuss everything.

I also contacted Ann, the property manager for the cottage, and told her I was leaving sooner than expected, but I understood I wouldn’t get my money back.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll mail you a check for the security deposit.”

“Thank you. I’m about to get on the road, so I’ll leave the key on the counter.”

“You’re not leaving tonight, are you?” she said. “At least wait until morning. There’s a huge line of storms coming through.”

Frowning, I looked out the window but saw no evidence of impending doom. Maybe Ann was like my mother, who thought every drizzle was a monsoon. But I did drive an old car, whose windshield wipers weren’t the best. I could wait until morning. “I suppose I could wait until tomorrow.”

“I think you’d better, dear. If you shoot me a text when you leave, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”

Faced with an evening alone and no food in the fridge, I decided to walk into town and grab a bite to eat and a glass of wine. On my way out the door, I thought about grabbing an umbrella, but a quick hunt for one in the cottage turned up nothing. Oh, well. At this point, the skies looked relatively clear, the water was calm, and only a slight breeze ruffled the curtains. I wouldn’t be out long, anyway.

I walked into town, proud of myself for remembering the way, and purposely chose a restaurant other than the one I’d seen Jack at two nights ago. It was right on the water, busy with a summer dinner crowd, and the hostess seemed a bit put out having to seat a table of only one. “I can sit at the bar,” I told her. “It’s not a problem.”

She looked grateful. “Perfect. It’s right through there in the next room.”

The moment I walked in, I saw him. I might have turned right around and left, except he saw me too. Sitting at the bar, a beer in his hand, he turned and looked right at me, like he knew I was there. Our eyes met, and he slowly lowered the bottle. My pulse galloped.

Dammit. Now what?

Jack

Pretend it never happened.

I knew that’s what I was supposed to do, but the sight of her had caught me off guard, and I found myself staring at her, dumbfounded, my beer halfway to my lips.

I’d purposely chosen this place because she’d been at The Anchor last time, and I wanted to avoid seeing her. But I’d been sitting there thinking about her, when all of a sudden I’d looked up and seen her reflection in the mirror behind the bar—as if I’d conjured her up. I glanced over my shoulder, and sure enough, she was real.

Real and beautiful and walking right for me, a surprised smile on her face. “Well, hello. Guess we think more alike than it would seem.”

Pretend those legs were never wrapped around your body. “Hey. How’s it going?”

“Good. I was going to get a table,” she said, gesturing behind her toward the dining room, “but they weren’t too keen to seat just one person.”

Pretend those hands were never in your hair. “Yeah. Busy in here tonight.”

“Is there room for one more at the bar?”

Pretend you didn’t come inside her so hard, your knees buckled. I recovered enough to look around, and noticed the chair next to me was empty. Fuck.

My hesitation flustered her. “I’m taking off tomorrow, and I already cleaned out the fridge at the cottage, so—”

“Tomorrow? I thought you were here longer than that.” If she was leaving tomorrow, I’d be OK. Maybe.

“I was supposed to be here longer, but my mother called this afternoon, and there are some family issues…” She waved a hand in the air. “Anyway, I won’t bore you with it. But yes, leaving tomorrow. So this is my last night.”

“Oh.” Some of my nerves evaporated, and I nodded toward the empty