roll.
Davidson’s Luxury Cars met him at the airport and handed him the keys to a spanking-new silver Mercedes. Inside, it was equipped with an impressive navigation system. He punched in the hospital’s address and in seconds had directions.
A large blue sign with a picture of a peach welcomed him to Atlanta.
“A Georgia peach,” he whispered with a soft smile as he allowed his thoughts to conjure up an image of Brooklyn: the sweetest peach he’d ever known.
Suddenly, aware of the sea of brake lights in front of him, he, too, began to slow down. But then there was a loud crunch and his car jerked forward.
His gaze swung to the rearview mirror and back at the red car that had struck him. Great. Just what he needed. At this rate, he’d never make it to the hospital.
Brooklyn swore vehemently at her continued streak of bad luck as she veered her car off to the side of the road behind the silver Mercedes. Once they’d stopped, she heaved a depressed sigh as reality and the consequences of her reckless behavior sank in; two speeding tickets and a fender bender weren’t going to win her any awards with her insurance company.
“I love my life,” she mumbled with sarcasm and leaned over to the glove compartment to withdraw her insurance card. Next, she retrieved her purse and got out her driver’s license. She reached for her cell phone to make the dreaded call to the police, but stopped when the door to the Mercedes opened and a tall man stepped out.
There was something familiar about the broad span of his shoulders that accelerated her heartbeat and thinned her breath. And when he turned to face her, she wasn’t at all sure that she was awake.
Isaiah stepped toward the car, but when his gaze lifted to the driver, he stopped.
There had only been a few times in Brooklyn’s life when she’d felt engulfed in a vortex of surrealism—discovering her father was Santa Claus, walking in on Evan and Macy in bed together, and watching Isaiah materialize right before her eyes.
“It can’t be,” she whispered and blinked, but when her eyes fluttered open again, Isaiah still stood staring backat her. Slowly, she reached for the door, utterly clueless as to what she was about to do or say.
For what seemed like eternity they simply stared at each other.
Isaiah regained his senses and moved closer to her car, but both asked in unison the question that was the foremost in their minds.
“What are you doing here?”
Brooklyn grew uncomfortable at the smile slowly blooming across Isaiah’s face. Her surge of excitement was instantly at war with an equal surge of shock and dismay. Her gaze took in every detail of his features and compared them with what was already downloaded in her mind. Everything about him was just as she remembered.
Her brain declared each tingle coursing through her as a treasonous act of betrayal—including her accelerated heartbeat.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” he said with an air of wonder.
She stepped back. “That was the plan,” she answered before taking the time to censor her words.
He flinched as though she’d punched him. His steely-gray eyes held a level of caution. “That wasn’t exactly the response I was hoping for.”
Alarm coursed through her. “You came here looking for me?”
Isaiah frowned and stepped back as though he’d encountered a stranger. “You hit me, remember?”
She didn’t have a response to that, but she still couldn’t let go of her suspicion. Brooklyn wasn’t a gambler, but she was willing to bet that the odds of this bizarre meeting were a million to one.
“I don’t understand,” she said in a rush, her confusion refusing to let up.
“I don’t either. Maybe it’s fate?”
A red flag waved before her eyes and she determinedly shook her head to break the spell his beautiful eyes had cast upon her. “I’ve got to get out of here.” She turned and jumped back into her car.
Perplexed, he rushed to the driver’s side and
Davidson’s Luxury Cars met him at the airport and handed him the keys to a spanking-new silver Mercedes. Inside, it was equipped with an impressive navigation system. He punched in the hospital’s address and in seconds had directions.
A large blue sign with a picture of a peach welcomed him to Atlanta.
“A Georgia peach,” he whispered with a soft smile as he allowed his thoughts to conjure up an image of Brooklyn: the sweetest peach he’d ever known.
Suddenly, aware of the sea of brake lights in front of him, he, too, began to slow down. But then there was a loud crunch and his car jerked forward.
His gaze swung to the rearview mirror and back at the red car that had struck him. Great. Just what he needed. At this rate, he’d never make it to the hospital.
Brooklyn swore vehemently at her continued streak of bad luck as she veered her car off to the side of the road behind the silver Mercedes. Once they’d stopped, she heaved a depressed sigh as reality and the consequences of her reckless behavior sank in; two speeding tickets and a fender bender weren’t going to win her any awards with her insurance company.
“I love my life,” she mumbled with sarcasm and leaned over to the glove compartment to withdraw her insurance card. Next, she retrieved her purse and got out her driver’s license. She reached for her cell phone to make the dreaded call to the police, but stopped when the door to the Mercedes opened and a tall man stepped out.
There was something familiar about the broad span of his shoulders that accelerated her heartbeat and thinned her breath. And when he turned to face her, she wasn’t at all sure that she was awake.
Isaiah stepped toward the car, but when his gaze lifted to the driver, he stopped.
There had only been a few times in Brooklyn’s life when she’d felt engulfed in a vortex of surrealism—discovering her father was Santa Claus, walking in on Evan and Macy in bed together, and watching Isaiah materialize right before her eyes.
“It can’t be,” she whispered and blinked, but when her eyes fluttered open again, Isaiah still stood staring backat her. Slowly, she reached for the door, utterly clueless as to what she was about to do or say.
For what seemed like eternity they simply stared at each other.
Isaiah regained his senses and moved closer to her car, but both asked in unison the question that was the foremost in their minds.
“What are you doing here?”
Brooklyn grew uncomfortable at the smile slowly blooming across Isaiah’s face. Her surge of excitement was instantly at war with an equal surge of shock and dismay. Her gaze took in every detail of his features and compared them with what was already downloaded in her mind. Everything about him was just as she remembered.
Her brain declared each tingle coursing through her as a treasonous act of betrayal—including her accelerated heartbeat.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” he said with an air of wonder.
She stepped back. “That was the plan,” she answered before taking the time to censor her words.
He flinched as though she’d punched him. His steely-gray eyes held a level of caution. “That wasn’t exactly the response I was hoping for.”
Alarm coursed through her. “You came here looking for me?”
Isaiah frowned and stepped back as though he’d encountered a stranger. “You hit me, remember?”
She didn’t have a response to that, but she still couldn’t let go of her suspicion. Brooklyn wasn’t a gambler, but she was willing to bet that the odds of this bizarre meeting were a million to one.
“I don’t understand,” she said in a rush, her confusion refusing to let up.
“I don’t either. Maybe it’s fate?”
A red flag waved before her eyes and she determinedly shook her head to break the spell his beautiful eyes had cast upon her. “I’ve got to get out of here.” She turned and jumped back into her car.
Perplexed, he rushed to the driver’s side and
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