Page 1 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
PROLOGUE
“That’s for you to decide.”
Throwing the ball into her court was the equivalent of a magic trick. Instantly, the woman sitting across from him lit up from somewhere deep inside. The Miami coffee shop was getting crowded, but at that moment, he could see nothing except her beautiful face scrunched tight as she laughed.
“What if I say I want to run away to Denmark?” Her eyes went wide as she thought of another possibility. “Or move to coastal Africa and open an elephant sanctuary?”
He smiled, enchanted by the shift in her demeanor. There had been an underlying sadness in her eyes for the past few days, and the difference he was now seeing left him amazed.
Which was a disturbing thought, considering this woman was a stranger. He didn’t know her name. Her history. Nothing. And yet she was already past his defenses, settling into some buried part of him that had forgotten how to live, to laugh, and to love.
While trying not to cringe over the fact that he was thinking like one of those motivational signs his mother kept in the kitchen, he made a decision. Whoever put the sadness behind her eyes, whoever made her frightened enough that she felt the need to place her back to the wall and had her gaze darting to the door every so often, was as good as dead.
“Elephants don’t live on the coast,” he replied, hating to burst her bubble. “They’re further inland.”
She glanced down at his military fatigues. “Have you been to Africa?”
“Many times.”
Taking a sip of the coffee he’d ordered for her, she sighed at the first taste. Iced white mocha with vanilla crème and caramel drizzle. “You’ve lived an interesting life, I bet.”
“Not yet.”
“Not yet?”
It was time to turn on the charm, and he hoped to hell he remembered how to do it. A good long while had passed since he’d last had a conversation with a woman, let alone attempted to sweep one off her feet. “As of today, my life has only just begun.”
She giggled, tucking her long chestnut hair behind an ear. “Are you going to tell me your name?”
“Michael.” He held out a hand, and she shook it. “Michael Sinclair.”
“And just who is Michael Sinclair?”
Her voice held a flirty tone, and it was like a gentle caress down his body. “A small town boy who grew up to become a soldier.”
“There’s more to it. I can tell.” She studied him with an adorable tilt of her head. “Where are you from originally?”
Talking about his family and life outside of work was easy. It was the simplest part of him. “My parents own an insurance firm that they thought their kids would one day run, but none of us are even remotely interested in doing so.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
He forced himself to relax. Only fifteen minutes were left on the clock, and he didn’t need to make this weird.
“Two. My little brother is about to graduate from high school, and my older sister is a stay-at-home mom who helps run her husband’s cybersecurity firm.”
She looked impressed. “Your sister runs a cybersecurity firm? That’s pretty cool.”
Most people would agree, as long as they didn’t dig too deep into Kris’s past. Her husband had no clue how lucky he was to have her handling the tough stuff.
“Wait, so that makes you,” she arched an eyebrow and straightened as if in shock, “the middle child?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Which means you’re headstrong?” She raised a finger for each point. “Overly competitive? Highly independent?”
He couldn’t deny any of it. “Guilty as charged.”
“And openly admits it?” She tsked softly. “You, sir, are going to be trouble.”
