Page 9 of Triple Tidings
A low chuckle rumbles from deep in my chest. “I think I have a few years on you.”
More than a few, if we’re being realistic. I can’t bring myself to give a damn, though. Not when she’s looking at me like this, giving me hope my stumble last night didn’t have her writing me off completely.
Lacey giggles, reaching over the desk to help herself to a scone, brushing my arm as she does. She opens her mouth, obviously preparing to say something, but whatever it is falls away as her eyes dart to the door behind me.
“Welcome back!” she tells the newcomer, straightening up and offering them a warm smile. “I hope it wasn’t too cold out there.”
I feel a pinch of irritation at being interrupted, but that’s nothing—fuckingnothing—compared to the way my chest seizes as the sound of a cheerful, male voice comes from behind me. “Oh, it was. I’ve been in California for too long,” he replies with an easy laugh. “I swear, I was used to it once.”
Over a full decade has passed since I last laid eyes on the man who spoke, and still, I know who he is before he’s finished speaking.
All the air goes out of me as I turn, meeting the bright hazel eyes of the man who has just stepped inside The Chestnut Bed and Breakfast like the ghost ofChristmas fucking past.
That is, if the ghost was a twenty-something med student who taught me I like to get my cock sucked by men or women, or—I glance at Lacey, who is peering bemusedly between us—both.
I swallow, shaking myself as August seems to recover from his shock, too.
“Wells.” He lets out a quiet, shocked laugh. “Jesus. Hi.”
“Hi,” I echo gruffly, a little lightheaded by the surge of blood rushing to my face and my cock at once. Good grief, what the fuck is my problem? It was years ago. We had a fling, and it ended. August isn’t the first or the last person I fucked, so why is seeing him again prompting this bullshit reaction?
Behind me, Lacey’s clear, bright voice comes, laced with hesitance. “You know each other?”
“Yes,” August replies, tearing his eyes from me to offer her a slightly pained smile.
His voice is exactly the same, and it’s unsettling as hell.
I grit my teeth. “It was a long time ago.”
Lacey looks between us, and damn it, this was going well. I was having a conversation with the woman, and now… well. I really do need to get out of here.
Pushing off the desk, I shoot her a quick, tight nod. “Thanks for the scone, Lacey.”
I turn, resuming my long-forgotten path to the front door. As I pass August, though, his free hand darts out to grip my arm, effectively stopping me in my tracks.
Even through the thick layers I’m wearing, his touch seems unnaturally warm, and, unable to help myself, I look at him, taking in every line of his familiar features. August Vogel is older now, a little wearier, but he’s still the man I knew.
If I’m honest with myself, I did a lot more than know him.
“Can we talk?” he asks, keeping his voice low.
Talk? He wants totalk? What the fuck is there to talk about?
My lips twist. “I’ll pass,” I tell him flatly, pulling my arm free from his grasp.
Neither Lacey nor August says a word as I stride to the door, and I don’t look back at them as I pull it open and plunge out into the icy December morning. There’s nowhere I need to be, but I assure myself that there are always things to be done at the shop.
Things that don’t involve the woman I shouldn’t want, or the man I hoped never to see again.
Four
Lacey
Whenever I permitted myself to daydream about how that perfect man would walk into my life, it was always through the front door at The Chestnut.
I mean, it’s kind of romantic, right?
He’d come in, tired from traveling and looking for nothing more than a decent place to crash. Except, he’d open the door and spot me sitting at the desk, waiting for him, and suddenly, getting some sleep wouldn’t seem quite so urgent.
