by Brenda Novak
“Great.” He winked at her. “I’ll be your first customer.”
She knew he thought he was being charming, but she stiffened all the same. “Excuse me?”
He stared at her. “I said I’d become a client.”
“But…it’s not what you think.”
His smile faded at her affronted tone. “What do I think?”
“I’ll be running two legitimate businesses, Aaron. I don’t…I don’t party anymore. Or do anything else that might interest you.”
He scowled. “Because you know so much about what interests me after being gone for two years?”
“I know the only thing I’ve got that interests you. It’s all I’ve ever had. And I’m no longer willing to…to be one of your many sex partners. That’s not the life I’ve chosen for myself.”
“Many partners? Are we counting?”
She shook her head. “I’m not judging you.”
“How generous.”
That hadn’t come out right. She had no grounds to criticize anyone, and she knew it. “I’m not the same person I was, that’s all.”
A muscle flexed in his cheek. “You’re saying I took advantage of you before?”
He’d had a few brushes with the law, so his reputation wasn’t any more sterling than hers. The Fearsome Five, as he and his brothers had been called, were used to being blamed even for things they didn’t do—although she doubted that would continue. The last chief of police had recently been fired for misconduct; the new one didn’t seem quite so drunk on his own power.
“No.” She shook her head again for emphasis. “What happened before was entirely my fault. You never asked me to follow you around like a puppy or to crawl into your bed whenever I had the chance.” She laughed as she rolled her eyes. “It must’ve driven you crazy to have me hanging on your every word, your every move. I’m sorry I was so annoying.”
He didn’t laugh with her. “Yeah, that was pretty miserable.”
She could hear the sarcasm in his statement. He’d probably forgotten how much she used to irritate him, but she remembered. When her mother died, she’d instinctively gone to him for comfort, but he’d turned her away with a few sharp words for waking him in the middle of the night.
Still, she didn’t hold that against him. Not really. She just wanted the next man in her life to care a little more.
“I’m sure it was,” she said, taking his words as if he’d meant them literally. “But I won’t bother you this time around. I―I’m looking for other things.”
“So you’ve said.” Jaw hard, lips tight, he leaned one shoulder against the doorframe. Obviously, he wasn’t happy with the way this was going. She could tell because of the badass attitude he’d adopted. It might’ve made her uneasy—that cutting glare made most people nervous—but she couldn’t imagine he’d get angry just because she preferred to keep her distance. He’d never wanted her to begin with. So why would it matter now if she refused to have any contact with him? He could have practically any woman he wanted. Even those who pretended to be too good for him sometimes cast longing glances in his direction.
“And what, exactly, are these other ‘things’ you’re looking for?” he asked.
“A husband for me and a great, uh, stepfather for Wyatt. A committed relationship.” Which counted him out. “So…if you’ll excuse me…”
He didn’t react. He was too busy searching her face with those hazel eyes of his. Maybe he was hoping to find the old Presley, but she hadn’t been lying when she said that person was gone.
When she stepped closer, indicating that she expected him to get out of the way, he shoved off from the wall and waved her past him with an exaggerated flourish. “Be my guest.”
Gone was the flicker of excitement she’d seen when he first addressed her. His expression had turned implacable, stony. But she had no reason to regret her words. She’d only done what she had to do. And she’d taken responsibility for the past, laid nothing at his feet.
“Thank you,” she said softly, and walked into the front, although it felt as if she was dragging her heart on the floor behind her.
Now she wouldn’t have to worry about running into him in the future, she told herself. They could both work to avoid each other—cross over to the other side of the street, if necessary. That would make the next few weeks or months, however long it took him to move to Reno, easier.
So why did her eyes sting with unshed tears and her throat feel like she’d just swallowed a grapefruit?
She was standing in line, face hot and pulse racing, when Kyle and Riley stopped Aaron as he strode toward the front of the store. They greeted him, and he responded, sounding perfectly fine. Her rejection hadn’t stung at all—which proved he’d never really cared about her to begin with. He’d used her, but the way she’d thrown herself at him made it equally her fault.
“Hey, Presley’s here,” Kyle said. “Have you seen her?”
She curled the fingernails of her free hand into her palm, praying she wouldn’t have to hear Aaron’s response. But there was no missing it. She couldn’t have kept herself from listening even if she’d had the power to do so.
“From a distance,” he said.
There’d been very little distance between them when he saved her from falling over those books, but she didn’t begrudge him a white lie. She just wished the line would move faster so she could get out of the bookstore.
“She’s opening a yoga studio one store down from Callie’s photography studio,” Riley informed him. “She’ll be doing massage there, too.”
There was an undercurrent in that statement, as if they all considered it pretty amusing. No doubt everyone was wondering if there’d be additional services she couldn’t advertise. But that was her fault, too. It would take time to live down what she’d been like before.
“One-stop shopping,” Aaron said dryly.
Assuming he was playing into those suspicions, Presley flinched.
“She’ll have no trouble coming up with paying customers,” Riley said. “Not the way she looks these days.”
“She looks about the same to me,” Aaron said, and moved away.
He was leaving. Presley’s internal “Aaron radar” tracked him to the door. Then, in spite of her efforts to keep her eyes on the person in front of her, she glanced over to catch a final glimpse of him—and found him looking at her again. This time his expression wasn’t inscrutable as much as it was bewildered. But that hurt-little-boy pout disappeared beneath a mask of indifference as soon as he realized she was watching, and he stepped out.
It was a shocking experience that jump-started Brenda Novak’s bestselling author career. “I caught my day-care provider drugging my children with cough syrup and Tylenol to get them to sleep while I was away,” Brenda says. “It was then that I decided that I needed to do something from home.”
However, writing was the last profession she expected to undertake. In fact, Brenda swears she didn’t have a creative bone in her body. In school, math and science were her best subjects, and when it came time to pick a major in college, she chose business. Abandoning her academic scholarship to Brigham Young University at the age of 20 in order to get married and start a family, Brenda dabbled in commercial real estate, then became a loan officer.
“When I first got the idea to become a novelist, it took me five years to teach myself the craft and finish my first book,” Brenda admits. “I learned how to write by reading what others have written. The best advice for any would-be author: read, read, read….”
Brenda sold her first book, and the rest is history. Her novels have made The New York Times, USA Today bestseller lists and won many awards, including three Rita nominations, the Book Buyer’s Best, the Book Seller’s Best and the National Reader’s Choice Award.
Brenda and her husband, Ted, live in Sacramento and are the proud parents of five children—three girls and two boys. When she’s not spending time with her family or writing, Brenda is usually working on her an
nual fund-raiser for diabetes research—an online auction held at her Web site (www.brendanovak.com) May 1 - May 31. Her youngest son, Thad, has diabetes, and Brenda is determined to help him and others like him. She also enjoys traveling, watching sporting events and biking—she rides an impressive 20 miles every day!
New York Times Bestselling Author
BRENDA NOVAK
Welcome to Whiskey Creek–
Heart of the Gold Country!
When Presley Christensen returns to Whiskey Creek with her little boy, she has completely changed her life. She’s made peace with her past and now she’s back in the small town that was the closest thing to “home” she ever knew—the town where she can be with the sister who’s her only family.
There’s just one catch. Aaron Amos still lives in Whiskey Creek, and no matter how hard she’s tried, Presley hasn’t been able to get over him. But she can’t fall back into his arms…or his bed. She’s come too far to backslide now. And there’s a secret she’s been guarding—a secret she’ll do anything to protect.
Come Home to Me
Available March 25, wherever books are sold!
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ISBN: 978-1-4603-3424-9
BIG GIRLS DON’T CRY
Copyright © 2005 by Brenda Novak.
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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