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Because you never asked. You were always too busy talking about yourself.
“Time to switch,” Stacie a
Switch? A
“Sorry,” Josh said with an easy smile. “You can catch up with Mitch later.”
A
But when she finished her last spiel about Alex’s law practice and looked around the room, she realized there would be no second chance with Mitch. Not tonight. The handsome man with brilliant blue eyes had disappeared. And he’d taken the former volleyball captain with him.
Chapter Three
For seven days after the Young Professionals meeting, A
Whenever she ran into someone who knew him, she’d bring up the YP meeting. She’d start talking about who was there and make sure she mentioned his name.
That’s how she found out he was living next door to Pastor Barbee while his log home at the foothills of the Crazy Mountains was being built. It was how she discovered he worked from home. And that he was now coaching the football team of Cassie’s thirteen-year-old.
That last bit of information had given her pause. Until she reminded herself that Mitch’s personal life was none of her concern. She was merely trying to right a wrong, not hook up with the guy.
A
Dropping the lipstick back into the bag, A
Taking a deep breath, A
As A
She’d almost reached the door when a beagle came barreling out of Pastor Barbee’s house. The moment the dog saw her, he skidded to a stop. Before she could say “nice doggy,” the animal began barking as if this was jolly old England and he’d spotted a fox.
While A
She could only hope that once she got inside, the beagle would stop its incessant yapping. A
A
Yesterday’s five o’clock shadow darkened his cheeks and his hair looked enticingly disheveled. But it was his attire—or lack of—that sent adrenaline spurting through her veins. “Hello, Mitch.”
An odd breathlessness crept into her voice, a breathlessness that only intensified when her attention slipped from his bare chest to the well-worn jeans.
It was odd she’d never realized that a pair of jeans could be so sexy.
“It’s been a while since I lived in Sweet River,” Mitch said.
A
“Last I knew, when a person knocked, they waited for someone to come to the door and invite them inside.”
Though “breaking and entering” wasn’t her style, if he was trying to make her feel guilty, it wasn’t going to work. She could still hear the beagle barking, but thankfully the door muted most of the sound. A
He crossed his arms, drawing attention to his muscular chest.
A
“Desperate?” he asked.
“If I’d waited any longer, Barky Von Beagle would have awakened the entire neighborhood.” A
“Most visitors come to the front door,” he said. “Why did you come to the back?”
A simple question. An easy answer. “I didn’t want anyone to see me.”
Mitch lived next door to Pastor Barbee. He knew how Mrs. Barbee loved to talk. He would understand A
But no look of understanding crossed his face. Instead his gaze turned frosty and the temperature in the room plunged twenty degrees. “Why are you here, A
Considering the way they’d parted, A
A
Mitch hesitated for a second then gestured toward the cupboard. “Extra mugs are in there.”
When he made no move to get one for her, A
“Cream is in the refrigerator,” he added.
The summer they’d been together he’d often teased her about her fondness for cream with a little bit of coffee. A
His face was a mask, giving nothing away. “What did you want to discuss?”
“Coffee first.” With renewed optimism, A
For a second she thought he might actually do as she’d suggested. Until he glanced at his jeans and hooked a thumb in a belt loop. “I don’t understand the problem. You’ve seen me in a whole lot less.”
A
“Nobody knows that.” A thought suddenly struck her. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”