Page 68 of Mile High Salvation

A pink and blue pinata the shape of a baby rattle waits for me at the customer service counter, and I gently pry my finger into one of the seams to see the appropriate-colored candy inside and then squeeze it back together, hoping none leaks out. It’s the same color as the body of the pinata, the trim being the other color, so nobody’s going to notice anyway.

With my supplies, I drive to Taryn’s, nervous as hell but so excited.

I park in the Lockwoods’ circular driveway and retrieve the items from my backseat. Carter greets me and takes the large pinata from me.

“I better string this up before people start arriving,” he says. “Thanks for picking it up.”

“Sure, no problem,” I reply, closing the door with my hip.

“If you could put the cake on the kitchen island, that would be great.”

“Sure,” I say, carefully carrying the giant pink box into the kitchen.

There’s a ridiculously huge spread of food on the island and some on the dining room table. Geez! How many people are they expecting?

I shove a plate of cold cuts aside to place the box.

“Oh, good, you got it!” Taryn says, coming into the kitchen wearing a long beige strapless maxi dress. She’s barefoot, and her bump sticks out a little.

“You look adorable,” I say, hugging her.

“So do you,” she replies, pointing to my red floor-length spaghetti-strap dress. It’s a casual type, so I paired it with black flats. I was tempted to wear pink or blue, but thought that would have given too much away.

“I think this should probably stay refrigerated,” I say, pointing to the cake.

“Good point.” She opens the fridge and begins to make room for it.

The front door alarm softly beeps and I hear, “Hey, sis.”

I freeze and my stomach turns over.

Turning around, I see Eric coming from the entryway hall and into the kitchen in a light-blue button-down and black jeans. “Where should I put—”

He holds a bottle of whiskey and stops talking when he sees me. My heart lurches in my chest as we lock eyes.

Oh, my God. He looks amazing. So sexy. I want to launch myself into his arms and kiss him everywhere.

Of course, I don’t do any of those things.

Beautiful blue eyes that haunt my dreams stare back at me. Sandy hair in a nice, neat haircut. The hint of a beard trying to grow in, a little gray peppering the light-brown graces his face.

We stand in silence, so long and so heavy in the air, that even Taryn turns around at the tension cutting the air like a knife.

“What...” She eyes the both of us. “Oh.” She forces a smile. “Put the booze on the table.” She inclines her head at the dining room table.

He doesn’t look at me again as he goes into the dining room.

I suck in a breath I’d held, and say, “Excuse me.”

I speed-walk into the guest bathroom and close the door. I slam the toilet lid down and sit, my face in my hands.

What I really want to do is scream. My body reacted to him immediately, and then I froze up because I couldn’t think of a single fucking intelligent thing to say. Would “hi” have been too difficult, Christa?

My head swirls with so much emotion. Seeing him was harder than I thought. I didn’t think he could still have this effect on me, but he did, and now I don’t know what the hell to do with it.

I take in deep, slow breaths, telling myself it’s okay. That I merely have to get through today and then I can go back to my silent wallowing.

A knock sounds at the door, and I freeze. “What?”

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