Page 5 of Flashback
3
Mazey paused on the sidewalk to scan the street, a smile curling her lips.
She’d come into town an hour early for her lunch date with Alyssa to have some time to walk around and check out some of the shops in the place she’d decided would be her home.
She’d begged off meeting her friend the day before and taken her first full day in Sunnyville to settle into the house. By midday yesterday, she’d had everything in its place or put away—and that included putting a couch, a bed frame, and a small table and two chairs together. She hadn’t kept any furniture from her old apartment, her old life. She’d sold everything, or given it away, along with a great deal of her personal effects.
A fresh start was what she wanted, so a fresh start was what she’d have.
Everything in her new life was new, including a lot of her clothes. She’d donated all the outfits she’d bought with Stuart’s approval or in the hope of having it. She’d kept the comfy jeans and sweats he hated. Smiling wide at the thought of his face if he could see her wardrobe now, she felt nothing but pleasure where once she would have been horrified.
He would be disgusted by the holey jeans and faded threadbare T-shirt she wore at the moment—in public no less! Not to mention the heart attack he’d have if he knew she’d made a quick stop at Ikea before leaving LA to purchase the bare essentials in home furnishings so she wasn’t sleeping or sitting on the floor.
There wasn’t a designer label in sight anywhere in this new life she was building. He’d be appalled, and Mazey was thrilled with the idea of causing him such distress.
And what did that say about her that she enjoyed that thought so much?
She hadn’t wanted anything but to escape Stuart and the explosive end of their relationship before now. All she’d wanted was to get away and forget it all.
She wanted to strip herself of the flash of her previous life and start a new one. One without the dark cloud of betrayal and deception coating everything. One without the unnecessary accessories someone else told her she should have—should want.
Instead, she would concentrate on her new job then the purchase of her new home. A house.
And yes, itwouldbe a house.
She was done living in apartments or in any way, shape, or form in a manner someone else dictated.
Sucking in a deep breath, Mazey reminded herself that she didn’t have to worry about pleasing someone else anymore. She didn’t need anyone’s approval, no one would—or could—tell her how to live her life, and as she gazed down the street, she knew to her bones moving here had been the right decision.
Sunnyville would be her home—washer home.
Everything she’d seen so far appealed, especially the nods and smiles she received from complete strangers as they passed her on the sidewalk. You didn’t get that living in LA.
Yeah, this had definitely been the right move.
Turning on her heel, she took a step and collided with a hard body. The only way to describe what happened next was to say she bounced like a tennis ball off a brick wall and hit the ground ass first.
Unfortunately, her bouncing skills ended on the pavement. Pain shot through her butt cheeks, up her spine where it gripped her ribs and shoved the air from her lungs.
“Shit! Are you all right?”
With no breath to push through her vocal cords, all Mazey could manage was a nod. Her vision was a little fuzzy, and other than a dark looming shadow, she couldn’t make out the owner of the deep voice leaning over her.
“Are you sure? Here let me help you up.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just hooked large warm hands beneath her elbows and lifted her to her feet. “Steady?”
Another nod and a sucked in breath, and she was almost at the point of being able to speak when her eyes refocused and the man with his hands on her bare skin became clear.
Except that couldn’t be what he looked like because she’d never seen anyone that good looking in real life. Unless she counted the occasional spotting of a Hollywood celebrity in LA, which she didn’t.
Blinking up—and it was up because this guy had to be at least six-four to her five-three—Mazey wondered if maybe she’d hit her head.
“Hey!” He gave her elbows a gentle squeeze. “Are you okay? I didn’t see you hit your head but...”
Swallowing hard, Mazey attempted to form words, except what came out wasn’t what had formed in her head. “Did I just bounce my way into the land of giants?”
He laughed. A deep rumbly sound that made his chest shake and her nerve endings vibrate. “No. Did I bump into an escapee from the land of fairies?”
Her mouth dropped open. At five-three, she wasn’t exactly the tallest woman in the world, then again, she wasn’t exactly the shortest either. “No, we’re both still in Sunnyville.”
