Page 5 of Her Senator's Second Chance

“Sure, come on by. I’m just putting away a few final items from the night,” she said, putting a jar of pickles back into the refrigerator.

“We will be right there.”

True to her word, Jenny arrived with Adam five minutes later. Natasha spotted headlights pulling up the drive to the front of the mansion.

Why did she suddenly feel her throat closing up at the thought of speaking to Adam again? She’d managed to successfully avoid him most of the day, speaking to Jenny only when absolutely necessary. As she watched him climb from his car, she had the urge to run upstairs to her bedroom and pull the covers over her head. But she didn’t. Because she was a grown woman and a business owner. And she’d run from Adam before. She wasn’t doing it again. Natasha lifted her chin and had assumed the poise of a southern lady by the time the knock sounded on her door.

She swung the heavy mahogany door open to see Adam standing in the porch light beside his sister. “Come in,” she said.

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” Adam said. As he stepped past her into the grand entryway, she caught a breath of his cologne. It smelled of sophistication and success. Definitely something expensive. Woodsy with a light hint of spice. A girl could get lightheaded inhaling too much of that.

A flash of a memory hit her all at once, so powerful it almost left her reeling. Her first kiss with Adam. It was sophomore year. They’d snuck into the Chemistry lab during lunch. It was one of those moments where time slowed down, where she remembered every detail for years. Because every second had been perfect.

Adam turned to look at her sharply, almost as if he could read her thoughts. His eyes connected with hers, and she clamped her mouth together, shoving back the errant emotions into the dark recesses of her mind where they belonged.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, her voice smooth and even. “Why wouldn’t it be?” She internally cursed herself. Was she really being that obvious? Or was Adam still in tune with her, even after all these years? No. That couldn’t be it. That line of thinking was ridiculous and led down a path she refused to explore.

“Well, if it’s all right with you, I’ll just head back into the room where I think I may have left my phone.”

“Right.” Natasha felt like a fool. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, and she was grateful she hadn’t bothered to turn on the chandelier over them. Keeping her back to him so he wouldn’t notice her red face, she led him into the lit hallway near the kitchen where she’d crashed into him earlier that day.

Jenny got to the room before he did, and she looked around the enormous guest room Natasha often used for brides, getting ready for their special day.

“I hear congratulations are in order for you,” she said to Adam.

He turned to look at her, and she braced herself against the intensity of his gaze. It was harder than she’d imagined to keep from looking away. But she held her gaze against his.

“How’s that?”

“Your upcoming marriage?”

“Oh. Yes, thank you,” he said.

That was it? Natasha remembered a time when conversation flowed freely between the two of them. It hurt to think they couldn't be friends anymore.

“I hear she’s quite the catch,” Natasha said. “You’re a lucky guy.”

A strange expression flitted across Adam’s face, and his mouth twitched, like he had something to say but was holding the words back.

His reaction caught her off guard. Why wasn’t he immediately agreeing with her?

“How long have you known her?”

“Frankly, I really don’t think it’s any of your business.”

Natasha blinked as his words smacked her in the face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My relationship with Darla is private.”

A mix of hurt and anger swirled inside Natasha. “I was only trying to be polite. If you want the honest truth, I care nothing about your relationship with Darla. You can see yourself out when you find your phone.” It was a lie and tasted bitter on her tongue the moment she spoke it. She twisted on her heel and stalked away into the kitchen. She needed to find something to clean or she would start throwing things. She grabbed a package of crackers and took it into the pantry to put it away.

“You don’t get to pry into my life. You’re not part of my life anymore.”

She whirled around to see that he had followed her into the gigantic pantry. She took a step away from him in shock. He was standing closer than she felt comfortable, and the proximity caused her pulse to race. She stared up into sharp blue eyes. So intense and full of an emotion she struggled to identify. Anger? Want?

Desire and pain warred within her. Why did his words hurt so much? She hadn’t spoken to him in years. She shouldn’t care if she was part of his life. But she did. Not that she would admit it to him.

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