Page 11 of Another June with You

“Oh, okay.”

“Yep, just me and my computer and a few memory cards worth of pictures from brunch.”

When he looked at her again, her lips were curved up and her eyes twinkled mischievously.

He wanted to hate her, to yell at her, to tell her how much she had hurt him, but when she looked at him like that, all he could do was grin. He was completely powerless against her.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

His mind was blank. There was no plan. He hadn’t meant to ask her.

“Dinner?” His eyebrows raised a little in question.

She nodded once. “Dinner.” A slow smile spread across her face. “And I’ve got another idea.”

He couldn’t help but grin. She’d always been the best at spontaneity. Some of their best times together had been when they’d run off somewhere together for a day. No set plans. Just the two of them driving around in his truck, stopping who knows where.

“Should I be worried? I mean, we’re not gonna end up in the U.P., are we?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I love the U.P.”

“I know you do, that’s why I asked.”

He had thought if he ever saw Shannon again, he’d feel nothing but hurt and betrayal and anger toward her. Those feelings were definitely still there. It would take more than seeing her for a day for him to forgive and forget. But that gravitational pull was still there too. The force that had always kept him orbiting around her—the brightest light in the center of his universe. Until she wasn’t. His heart clenched a little thinking of how dim his life had been for the past ten years without her.

Despite the hurt he still felt, there was also a strong desire to get to know her as she was now, to learn how the past decade had changed her. And maybe that would lead him to the truth about their sudden, unexpected breakup.

He’d have to bow out of the cookout, but Chase would understand.

“Do you mind if I change first and pack a bag with some bear spray?” she teased.

His eyes followed her as she moved into her bedroom, and his mouth went dry when she glanced back over her shoulder and slowly closed the door between them.

He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair as he inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. How in the world was he going to get through an afternoon of sitting next to her? Her and that darn vanilla?

To distract himself, he wandered around her living room, looking at the books on her shelves—photography books, photography magazines, photography manuals. Seeing her do her thing at brunch had filled him with so much pride. She had started her business like she’d wanted, and she was darn good at it. He’d seen her website. He knew her work, and he knew it well. But he’d never admit that to her. He’d never tell her how he had stalked her online over the years or about the multiple emails he had drafted to her but never sent.

Framed photos were arranged on the top of her book shelf—Shannon with her family, with friends, with other guys. He wondered if one of them was her boyfriend, and his chest tightened at the thought. If she’d met someone, he couldn’t fault her for it. Ten years was a long time, and he wanted her to be happy. He’d just always assumed her happiness would include him.

The door squeaked when it opened, and Shannon stepped into the living room wearing a simple white v-neck t-shirt with a pair of khaki capri pants that hugged her curves just right.

He thought his mouth had been dry before, but now it was as arid as the Sahara.

She gave him a cute little smile as she walked to the shoe rack by the door and bent down to put on some strappy brown sandals. Her long, wavy hair fell all around her in a cascade of black silk with milk chocolate highlights.

His eyes fixed on her ankle as she worked on the buckle, and he had to turn his gaze to the ceiling to keep from following the curve of her leg all the way up to her backside.

He escaped to the kitchen and opened her refrigerator in search of water. It surprised him to find it filled to the brim with greens—lettuces, kale, broccoli, green beans, zucchini, cucumbers, celery, even green apples. There were the usual staples as well—milk, eggs, cheese, butter—but so much green.

Shannon cleared her throat. “Make yourself at home.”

“On a bit of a health kick?” he asked as he peeked around the door at her.

“Did you need something?” She raised an eyebrow at him as she stepped closer.

“Water.” He was burning up from her nearness, despite the fact that he was standing in front of the open refrigerator.

She walked to the cupboard, retrieved a glass, and filled it from the tap. “Water.” She held it out to him with a smug look on her face. “It comes from a thing called a faucet,” she teased.

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