He had burnished blond, gold-tipped hair, and from what she could see from his seated position, he was tall and in good shape.
She cleared her throat and took a step toward him. When he didn’t move, she stepped closer and poked his upper arm. Beneath the long-sleeved jersey he wore, her finger met solid muscle. “Excuse—”
His head snapped up and a pair of stunning blue eyes lasered right through her. She sucked in a breath and stumbled back.
Trey Christopher!
She scrambled to get hold of herself. She was an adult woman of almost twenty-nine, not a naïve teenager of fifteen.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He grinned, which turned his already handsome features into to-die-for good looks. She did nothing but stare even though she knew he was making a joke, since she had been the one to startle him.
“You okay?” he asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I did. The ghost that’s haunted me for fourteen years.
“Want to do this another time?”
No. Been there. Done that. Not doing it again.
She got hold of herself. Finally. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
He studied her for a few seconds. “I’m Trey, by the way. And you are?”
“Baylee. Baylee Westring.”
He chewed on the inside of his lip as if contemplating something while he continued to peruse her from head to toe. She’d come dressed to work in a faded pink T-shirt, ancient jeans and sneakers. Over which she’d worn a hoodie she’d bought on sale at Walmart for five dollars last spring. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of her way. Makeup was nonexistent. She was the cleaning lady. She didn’t have to impress anyone, and she liked to be as comfortable as possible while she worked.
As if remembering his manners, Trey straightened in his chair and pulled his feet off the other one. The right one he helped along with both hands supporting his thigh after setting the ice pack on the table. “Please. Have a seat.” He indicated she was welcome to take any one of the four chairs. She opted for the one opposite him instead of the one next to him where his foot had been.
She sat, and he looked at her for a long moment before he spoke. “Have we met? You look awfully familiar for some reason.”
Baylee pushed her glasses up on her nose. He was fishing, so she decided to join him. “Maybe from high school.”
“Nope. That’s not it. Seems like somewhere more recent.”
Your grandmother’s funeral last year, maybe? Not that she had any intention of enlightening him about their past history if he couldn’t remember it. She’d seen him at the funeral, at a distance. They hadn’t spoken or touched. But she’d been haunted by that memory for months afterward. What, she’d wondered at the time, was it going to take to get him out of her head for good?
Certainly not this. Why was she still here? Why had she sat down as if she was seriously going to consider coming to work for him?
Apparently he was waiting for an answer, and she finally grasped the thread of the conversation. “I don’t know.”
He shrugged as if it wasn’t important.
“Can you start today?”
“I’m not sure.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Not sure because…?”
“Not sure if I want to work here. For you.”
“Ah, I see. My reputation precedes me. Tell me, other than Ryan Reagle, is there anyone in this county who doesn’t hate my guts?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“No, no. I get it. I’m the town hero, the golden boy who made it to the big time and threw it all away. I failed the town, I failed my team. I failed everybody, including myself, and now I can’t catch a goddamn break. I get it, okay? I’ll clean my own damn house. Sorry I wasted your time.”
Trey scooted back to brace his hands on the chair arms and shoved himself up to stand. He limped across the porch and opened the screen door and let it slam shut behind him.
Baylee tried to sort out how she felt. She knew there were quite a few locals who didn’t think too highly of him at the moment and would be happy to make sure he knew it. Yes, he’d been a high school hero, a local football legend who’d made it to the pros. He’d had some good seasons with the Jacksonville Jacks. He had at least one Super Bowl ring, possibly two to show for it. She knew he’d been injured and he’d sort of gone downhill afterward, but she hadn’t followed his fall from fame all that closely. She’d had too many of her own problems to worry about at the time. Trey Christopher had been on a far back burner until she’d seen him again last year. But he was so far outside her normal sphere of acquaintances, at the time she doubted she’d ever see him again.
She might hold a grudge against him. She might have some less than stellar memories of their one high school encounter. But he needed someone to clean his house, and she needed the work. Was she going to be stupid and stubborn and walk away from a job because of some ancient history he didn’t even remember?
No. She wasn’t. She’d charge him top dollar, and she’d do her best to keep a reasonable distance from him. But there was no good reason to walk away from this gig.
Irritated, she adjusted the glasses on her nose again. The frames were slightly bent and the prescription was four years old. If she took this job she might be able to afford another supply of contact lenses.
Decision made, she got up and tapped on the screen door’s wood frame. “Hello? Trey?”
Silence greeted her. Carefully she eased the door open and closed it softly behind her. The kitchen hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d set foot in it, except for appliance upgrades. She spotted dirty dishes in the sink and crumbs on the counter.
She crossed the kitchen and listened. From the bathroom near the back bedroom, she could hear a shower running. Fine. She’d start in here, and when Trey came out of the bathroom, they’d settle things between them. Like her hourly rate.
Then, Again
Karen Stivali
Sometimes you have to lose it all to find what you really need.
Photographer Kay Turner is dealt a double whammy when she flies home for her grandmother’s funeral to find her boyfriend with another woman. Now with two losses to mourn, she retreats to her newly inherited beach house to clear her head.
Everything at the beach is familiar: the sounds of the ocean, the scent of her grandmother’s perfume—and the irresistible smile of James Margolis. The man Kay spent her adolescence pining for is every bit as charming as she remembers.
James always thought of Kay as “a nice kid”, but he feels something very different for the woman she’s become. Especially when he asks if she’d be willing to part with some of her grandmother’s recipes for his new restaurant—and they wind up sharing much more than culinary secrets.
But as their relationship deepens, Kay finds herself caught between the demands of her dream career as a travel photographer, and a chance for happiness with the one man she’s wanted for a lifetime.
Warning: This foodie romance contains sensual scone baking, a heroine who discovers one bad apple hasn’t spoiled her appetite, and a delicious hero you can’t help but crave. Blend well, serve hot.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Then, Again
Copyright © 2013 by Karen Stivali
ISBN: 978-1-61921-467-5
Edited by Christa Desir
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of
this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: May 2013
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
About the Author
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Then, Again Page 20