by Cara Colter
Colton shook his head. “Charlie came to me and said they’re even talking about divorce. I guess married life hasn’t been what they expected.”
“Maybe they expected the wrong thing,” Vivian said.
Colton considered those words. “Maybe.”
He expected Vivian to say more, but she didn’t. Instead she seemed again to shift gears, go back to the smiling, teasing person she used to be. She cocked a hip his way and winked at him. “It’s kind of quiet in here right now. Maybe we should go out the door and come back in. Really make an entrance.”
“That’s your specialty.” He chuckled. “Remember graduation?”
“Hey, I just wanted to make it memorable.”
“My father nearly had you arrested.”
“He just didn’t get the joke.” Vivian laughed, thinking of the horrified look on Edward St. John’s prim and proper Bostonian face when she’d roared into the ceremony on a motorcycle, wearing a bikini, a Hawaiian lei and her dark blue graduation cap.
And nothing else.
“Where did you get that Harley anyway?”
“I borrowed it from Jack.”
A chill invaded the space between them. Colton backed up. An imperceptible distance, but one nonetheless. “Oh, yeah. I remember now.”
It had also been the motorcycle that had carried her out of town, but that time with Jack at the handlebars. Away from St. John’s Cove, from her friends, and from everything that she could never have.
Colton crossed to the bar, and Vivian followed. He ordered two light beers, then handed her one of them. “Where’d you two end up?”
“Los Angeles. Jack opened an auto repair shop. He does pretty well.” In the semidarkness of the bar, it seemed easy to open up, to share the details of her life with Colton, as if no time at all had passed between them. She wanted to tell him more, to lean on his shoulders, just like she used to.
No. Leaning led to more…and Vivian was not going down the path of more.
“And you?”
“I…” What should she tell him? The truth? No. That would only lead to complications, and with Colton, she couldn’t have complications. Those would only tie her more to this town, and she couldn’t do that. Not to him, not to her. “I work in the food industry.”
He chuckled. “Now that I’d like to see. Maybe sometime I’ll come out to L.A. and dine wherever you’re working.”
“That would be nice,” she said. Except she wasn’t working at a restaurant, not anymore, and the one she did own wasn’t on that side of the country. But she kept that to herself. If the day ever came when Colton said he was coming for a visit, she’d find a way to put him off.
She had this night—these last few days before she left to return to L.A.—and that was it.
It would be enough.
“You and Jack…you have a house? A dog?” The words seemed to leave Colton with a painful wince, and for the first time, Vivian wondered if maybe she wasn’t the only one with leftover feelings from that summer.
“I’m…I’m not with him anymore,” she said softly.
“Since when?”
“Since I caught him with his receptionist. At a bar. Kissing her.”
“Oh.” Colton’s gaze met hers. “Sorry.”
Vivian shrugged. “I’m not.”
“So are you…?” He let the question hang in the air.
What was Colton asking? If she was single? Available?
Oh, this was opening up a can of trouble she couldn’t open, not again. She’d made her decision five years ago, and she needed to stick to it. For both their sakes.
Across the room, four members of that night’s band took their places behind their equipment on the makeshift stage tucked in the corner of the bar. The drummer raised his sticks, counted off two beats, and then the band launched into a toe-tapping, rousing rock single. “Want to dance?”
“Are you avoiding the question?”
“Of course not.” She shimmied a little to the music. “I’m just in the mood to dance.”
“Then we will.” He stepped closer to her, and put out his hand. She slipped hers into his larger palm, sending a rush of electricity through her veins. And just like that, before they even made it to the dance floor, dancing together became more than just exchanging a few steps.
Their gazes locked, and even in the darkened room, Vivian knew the look she read in those blue depths. Desire.
They weren’t dancing—they were playing with temptation. Which was exactly what Vivian was trying to avoid. Colton was on his way—and it was a path that Vivian wouldn’t follow. She had to remember that.
Except every time he touched her, or looked at her, she forgot.
The square of parquet flooring crowded with couples, moving in and out, dancing a busy pace to the steady beat of the music. The crush of bodies pushed Colton and Vivian together, his arm settling around her waist as if it had always been there.
“Well?” he asked. “Are you dating anyone now? I don’t see a ring on your finger—” he held up her hand as proof “—so I know you aren’t married.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then…”
The question hung there, and Vivian knew it was more than just a friendly query. They both knew it. “Don’t, Colton.” She turned away, trying to avoid the question, not just between them, but in his eyes.
“You know, every once in a while, I think back to those days in college, and I wonder why didn’t we stay together? I think we would have been good.” His voice seemed as dark and intimate as the room around them.
Vivian let out a little laugh. “Come on, Colton. We’d never have worked out.”
“Maybe we would. Maybe we wouldn’t.” He closed the gap even more, and Vivian’s pulse began to race. On the dance floor, their body parts brushed, each step making them exchange a feather of a touch. Another. A third. “I can tell you one thing, Vivian.”
“What’s that?” The words were a breath, and she knew she was definitely in trouble now. Dancing with Colton had been a bad idea. This wasn’t fun…
It was danger.
“I’d never leave you for my receptionist. And I’d never kiss another woman in a bar.”
She swallowed. Damn.
Colton St. John. Too good for her—because he was the good boy, the boy next door, who had aspirations that didn’t include her.
She should walk away. Put some distance between them. But she stayed put. “Colton, we’d never…”
“We wouldn’t, would we?” He moved a little closer still. In that moment, Vivian realized two things—
Colton St. John was about to kiss her.
And she wasn’t going to stop him.
CHAPTER FIVE
KISSING Vivian was like coming home. Like falling into the place where he was always meant to be. His hands reached up, tangling in her auburn locks. Heat rose in the shared space between them and Colton leaned closer, moving to deepen their kiss, to taste even more of the woman he had so long been denied. She was sweet and hot, and everything he’d dreamed of in those years after she left.
She broke away first, each of them breathing a little harder than they had been a moment before. “That’s…not dancing.”
“No, it’s not.”
What was that? A bad idea, for sure.
But one he wanted to repeat. Instead he started dancing with her again, trying to make some sense out of a nonsensical decision.
Vivian had made it clear she didn’t want a relationship. That she had no intentions of staying in town. He should be glad for that. If he was smart, he’d be concentrating on launching his campaign to run for governor, not on launching a relationship with the one woman he knew who defined complicated emotions.
Not to mention, he knew the dangers of trying to combine a relationship with a political career. He couldn’t have it all, and he shouldn’t even try. It wasn’t fair to him—and especially wasn’t fair to Vivian.
Then why did his pulse kick up when he
danced with her? Why did he become hyperaware of the undertones of her perfume, the curve of her body against his, the brush of her long hair against his shoulder?
A smile curved up her face. “Close quarters, huh?”
“Just a little.” He clasped her free hand in his, then brought his cheek to her ear. The scent of jasmine teased at his senses. She was wearing a short, form-fitting black dress. Viv had always been partial to black, curve-flattering outfits and this one was no exception. Colton liked it. Very much. “Too close?”
She shifted against him, and everything that had been simmering suddenly went into a full boil. Colton tightened his hold on her waist, wanting only one thing, thinking not of their friendship, not of how they were wrong for each other, but only of having her next to him.
And most of all, of kissing her again. And again and again, until he couldn’t remember where their friendship ended and something more had started.
Vivian inhaled, and her chest brushed up against Colton’s. She turned, bringing her cheek to his, almost kissing him—almost. “Not too close at all.”
He hadn’t been the only one who’d enjoyed that kiss, that much was clear. The problem was—what they were going to do about it.
Temptation coiled tighter in his gut. The room dropped away, and all he could hear was the music, the pound-pound-pounding of the music, echoing the insistent beat of desire in his head. His hand ranged up and down her back, and his breath whispered against her neck.
“We should…” she said, then stopped.
“Yeah,” Colton said, but didn’t move.
“Because we’re just…” Another breath in, then out, the warm air raising his awareness.
“Friends,” he finished. Friends didn’t kiss each other. Friends didn’t date. Friends never crossed that imaginary line.
Except the lines had blurred a moment ago, and Colton couldn’t seem to get them straight again.
The music pounded, the people around them danced. The world went on, but neither he nor Vivian noticed. “Just frien—”
He silenced her words with his mouth. Vivian curved into him, her body hot against his.
“Hey, Viv! Long time no see!”
Vivian broke away from Colton, and turned toward the voice. Lana Milton, who had graduated with them from St. John’s Cove High, stood to the side, with a few other high school friends. “Hi, Lana.”
Colton tamped down his annoyance at being interrupted and muttered a hello to Lana. She returned the greeting. “Hey, Colton. Can’t believe you became mayor. You’re doing a great job, though.”
“Thanks.”
“My mother says you’re the best mayor the town’s ever had. And if you knew my mother, you’d know that’s saying a lot.” Lana laughed, then refocused her attention on Vivian. “I didn’t even realize you were in town! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! We should get together.” Lana reached forward, gave Vivian a light jab in the arm. “Hit a few of the old haunts, stir up some trouble.”
“Yeah. We should.”
“Can always count on you for trouble, huh, Viv?”
A smile skittered across Vivian’s face. “Of course.”
“How long are you hanging around St. John’s Cove?” Lana asked.
“Just a couple more days. I came in for Amanda and Charlie’s wedding, then ended up staying for Samantha and Ethan’s. But now I really need to get back to L.A.” She let out a little laugh. “I never was much for staying in this little place.”
So she definitely wasn’t staying in town.
Why was Colton surprised? Vivian had nothing tying her to St. John’s Cove.
Still after she’d stayed all these weeks, he’d hoped…
Hoped, what? That they could pick up where they’d left off? Maybe rewrite a history that had never had a chance to get past the introductory pages?
“We should do something tonight then.” Lana grabbed Vivian’s arm, and a wide, devilish grin spread across her face. “What do you say, Viv? Ready to set St. John’s Cove on fire? Gotta live up to your reputation, right?”
A second passed, one where Colton was sure Vivian—the Vivian he had always known—would say yes. She’d opt for the good time, running off from this party to that. He started to step back, to let her go, when Vivian shook her head. “Maybe another time, Lana.”
Confusion raced across Lana’s features. “Uh, okay. Catch you later then?”
“Sure.”
“And be sure to give me a call next time you come into town.”
“I will.” Vivian gave Lana a quick hug, then the two said goodbye.
Once the other woman was gone, Colton turned to Vivian. “You don’t have to stay with me. You’re only in St. John’s Cove for a few more days—you might as well see whoever you can while you’re here.”
“I’m fine.” But she sounded distracted, not like herself at all.
He put a palm against her forehead. “You must be sick.”
“Me? Not at all.”
“For Vivian Reilly to pass up a good time, either the world has turned upside down or you’re deathly ill.”
“Maybe I just grew up. All of us do, you know.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I could have become all traditional on you in the last few years, you never know.”
“You?” he scoffed. “Never.”
“Miracles do happen, Colton St. John.”
“Then what was that about over at Hardisty’s pool last night?”
“That…that was about trying to see you without a shirt on.” A tease lit up her eyes, and the shadows that had momentarily filled her gaze disappeared. “Too bad my plan didn’t work out.”
“Was that all?” Hope rose in his chest, a stubborn bobber at the end of the hook she’d always had on his heart.
He was kidding himself if he thought it had ever really gone away. The last few days had proven that. Hell, that kiss had proven it.
“Of course.”
Disappointment curdled in his gut. Why had he expected different? Expected things to change? She hadn’t been in love with him then—
She wasn’t going to instantly fall in love with him now.
Still, Colton had a sense that Vivian had changed, which kept that little bobber of hope from disappearing altogether.
The crowd had merged to the center of the floor, caught up in the frenzy of the beat of a fast-paced song. Vivian and Colton slid to the side, and found themselves tucked in a corner of O’Reilly’s.
“What’s up, Vivian? You’re different,” Colton said. “At first, I thought it was just that you’d changed a little, you know, gotten older. But there’s more.”
She raised one shoulder, dropped it again, the move seeming casual, yet Colton read a note of tension. “I’ve just gotten older, like you said. But like Lana said, I’m still the same Vivian. Exactly the same.”
Except her words lacked the edge they used to have. “No, Viv. There’s more to it than that. What’s happened in the years since you left? What’s happened…” He paused. “To us?”
“We better get back to our table before someone tries to steal it.” She spun away from him.
Colton grabbed her arm and hauled her back. She collided lightly with his chest, bringing her mouth within inches of his. Desire roared again within him, and he wondered why he had ever let Vivian out of his life.
What if he had argued with her? Refused to let her go?
He’d never had just friendly feelings for her, and pretending otherwise anymore was a waste of time. “Why did you really leave town?”
She opened her mouth, closed it, clearly surprised by the question. “I hated St. John’s Cove. You know that.”
He shook his head, then traced along her jaw, watching her eyes widen, her pulse tick in her throat. “You ran away. Left an actual dust cloud in your wake. There’s a difference.”
“I—”
“You ran away from your family. Your friends. From…” He reached up and caught a tendril of her hair, and decide
d too many years had passed without asking the question he should have asked back then. And finally, the one word came out. “Me.”
The word escaped with a hard edge, no more being cavalier about the topic, as if the event had been a blip in the radar.
There. He’d said it. For five years, he’d wondered about Vivian, about where she’d gone—but more, why she’d left. The whole thing had been too sudden, the way she turned from acting like she loved him to suddenly cold and distant.
Just like that, one September morning, she’d turned to him and told him it was over. She’d found someone else. She’d never been in love with him. It had all been a summer fling, a crazy temporary crush on a friend.
Friend.
The dreaded six-letter word that Colton had never thought he’d hear again to describe their relationship.
Two days later, Vivian had left town on the back of Jack Hunter’s motorcycle, leaving devastation in her wake.
It wasn’t just about losing a woman he’d cared deeply about, a woman who had been one of his best friends. It was about the hole in his life, the unfinished chapter in the book. They’d started something, and before it could be finished—
Vivian was gone.
With another man.
And damned if that pain didn’t still twinge.
“Why did you do it, Vivian? And don’t give me the answer you think I want to hear.” He met her gaze. “This time, I want the truth.”
“I had plans, Colton, you knew that. I was going to make it big in California and Jack was going that way. So…” She shrugged again, as if this was all no big deal, water under the bridge.
Let it go, forget it. It’s over.
We’re over.
That’s what she’d said back then. We’re over, let it go. Just like ripping off a bandage, she’d ended the relationship they’d had—if he could have even called what was happening between them a relationship.
Just like five years ago, Vivian wanted Colton to let the subject drop. Except he couldn’t, not this time. Because the questions had been raised, and they refused to die without an answer.
The real answer, because he suspected he wasn’t getting that. What was she hiding? Why?