Page 8 of Second Chances
"Oh, I wasn't planning on it."
"Cheese gives him wicked farts."
And with that, the image of the suave mountain man evaporated from Megan's mind.
"I'm at 17 Sugar Peaks Way."
"Oh, okay. I will be there to get him in a few minutes."
Megan could've sworn that the man's voice went cold as soon as she told him the address. She downed the rest of her wine, angry with herself for thinking about another man, albeit a made up one, when the ink wasn't even dried on her divorce papers, hell the ink wasn’t even wet yet.
She poured another glass of wine and curled up in front of the fire with Timber. She sat absentmindedly playing with the dog’s fur until the doorbell rang. Disappointed to be losing her friend, she shuffled over to the entryway. She pulled open the door and was caught completely off-guard. The man standing in front of her wasn't exactly the man she had just conjured up, he was better. “Hi,” she stammered as the wine glass slipped from her hand.
