her stomach, propping herself on
her elbows to look at him. “Just like that?” she’d asked
incredulously. “You’d really give up your career and move to L.A.
for me?”
He’d laughed, had touched his knuckle to the
tip of her nose. “I can do my job there. And yes, I’d do it for
you,” he’d said, and slipped his hand around her nape, pulling her
forward. “I’d do anything for you.” And he had kissed her until she
really believed he would do anything for her.
She wondered if he was remembering the same
moment. Probably not. He probably hadn’t remembered it a week after
he’d said it. Just a lot of bullshit from a player.
She looked at him again,
the face that had betrayed her, stunned her, wounded her so deeply
that she was almost buried beneath her own bitter sorrow and
suddenly blurted, “Michael, what the hell are you doing here? How
did you end up here, of all places?” she exclaimed, her hand waving
at here . “You
never said anything about wanting to be in movies. You’re in
finance, for Chrissakes—so what the hell, you’re a stunt guy? Are
you the fourth stunt guy now? The fourth stunt guy? How is it possible
that you are a stunt guy?”
“Well,” he said, wincing a little as his
gaze dipped to her lips, “It just sort of happened.”
“No, no, no, something
like that doesn’t just sort of happen,” she said, stabbing her
hands in the air for emphasis. “And even if it did, how would it
happen on my film?”
“My guess? Karma.”
He had to be kidding. He
would chalk this up to something as stupid as karma after what had
happened between them? Try the devil. Or a hole in the cosmos.
Anything but karma. “ Karma ?” she echoed incredulously.
“You think this is karma?” And did he have to look at her lips like
that? “This isn’t karma, Michael, this is just . . . just really
really . . . un-freakin’-believable.”
For some reason, Michael chuckled. “You know
what, Leah? You look amazing.”
Leah instantly put a hand
to her hair. “I usually look so much better than this,” she
muttered and happened to glance down at her PF Flyers. Oh Jesus,
what lame run-into-your-ex shoes. They just screamed
loser .
Not to mention the T-shirt
cropped at the waist that said Tampa
Bay in cursive letters across her chest.
She’d never even been to Tampa Bay—she’d picked this up at a thrift
shop along with the PF Flyers.
“I don’t know how much better you could
possibly look, because you look fantastic.”
He said it so sincerely
that the warmth of the compliment seeped under her skin, and she
couldn’t help smiling a little. “Thanks. Ahem . So, do . . . ahem . . . ah . . .
sodoyou.”
Now his brown eyes were shining in a way
that was making her feel slightly woozy. She wondered how he could
possibly have that effect on her after what he’d done to her and
after all this time. Yet the pull was powerful enough that she felt
a slight panic and abruptly stood up. “So listen, I gotta get back
to work.”
“Are you sure?” he said, standing, too.
“Just take it easy, sit this one out.”
“No, really, I’m okay,”
she said, now suddenly feeling frantic to get away from him. “So
thanks for helping me and . . .” What? And
WHAT? And nothing . There was nothing she
wanted to say to him. She gave him a dorky little wave and jogged
back to her group, hating him for showing up here after all these
years. Damn him.
Once again, Michael Raney had ruined
everything.
Chapter Five
SEEING Leah Kleinschmidt knocked Michael
flat on his ass—he’d thought so much about her, had lamented
leaving her more times than he could count—but this was so
unexpected and so shocking, he was not prepared to face her.
Not like this.
Unfortunately, it was too late, because he
had seen her, and now he had to get his shit together, because he
had to work, and before he did anything else, he had to kill Jack
for this little surprise.
Not before he got an explanation of how
her elbows to look at him. “Just like that?” she’d asked
incredulously. “You’d really give up your career and move to L.A.
for me?”
He’d laughed, had touched his knuckle to the
tip of her nose. “I can do my job there. And yes, I’d do it for
you,” he’d said, and slipped his hand around her nape, pulling her
forward. “I’d do anything for you.” And he had kissed her until she
really believed he would do anything for her.
She wondered if he was remembering the same
moment. Probably not. He probably hadn’t remembered it a week after
he’d said it. Just a lot of bullshit from a player.
She looked at him again,
the face that had betrayed her, stunned her, wounded her so deeply
that she was almost buried beneath her own bitter sorrow and
suddenly blurted, “Michael, what the hell are you doing here? How
did you end up here, of all places?” she exclaimed, her hand waving
at here . “You
never said anything about wanting to be in movies. You’re in
finance, for Chrissakes—so what the hell, you’re a stunt guy? Are
you the fourth stunt guy now? The fourth stunt guy? How is it possible
that you are a stunt guy?”
“Well,” he said, wincing a little as his
gaze dipped to her lips, “It just sort of happened.”
“No, no, no, something
like that doesn’t just sort of happen,” she said, stabbing her
hands in the air for emphasis. “And even if it did, how would it
happen on my film?”
“My guess? Karma.”
He had to be kidding. He
would chalk this up to something as stupid as karma after what had
happened between them? Try the devil. Or a hole in the cosmos.
Anything but karma. “ Karma ?” she echoed incredulously.
“You think this is karma?” And did he have to look at her lips like
that? “This isn’t karma, Michael, this is just . . . just really
really . . . un-freakin’-believable.”
For some reason, Michael chuckled. “You know
what, Leah? You look amazing.”
Leah instantly put a hand
to her hair. “I usually look so much better than this,” she
muttered and happened to glance down at her PF Flyers. Oh Jesus,
what lame run-into-your-ex shoes. They just screamed
loser .
Not to mention the T-shirt
cropped at the waist that said Tampa
Bay in cursive letters across her chest.
She’d never even been to Tampa Bay—she’d picked this up at a thrift
shop along with the PF Flyers.
“I don’t know how much better you could
possibly look, because you look fantastic.”
He said it so sincerely
that the warmth of the compliment seeped under her skin, and she
couldn’t help smiling a little. “Thanks. Ahem . So, do . . . ahem . . . ah . . .
sodoyou.”
Now his brown eyes were shining in a way
that was making her feel slightly woozy. She wondered how he could
possibly have that effect on her after what he’d done to her and
after all this time. Yet the pull was powerful enough that she felt
a slight panic and abruptly stood up. “So listen, I gotta get back
to work.”
“Are you sure?” he said, standing, too.
“Just take it easy, sit this one out.”
“No, really, I’m okay,”
she said, now suddenly feeling frantic to get away from him. “So
thanks for helping me and . . .” What? And
WHAT? And nothing . There was nothing she
wanted to say to him. She gave him a dorky little wave and jogged
back to her group, hating him for showing up here after all these
years. Damn him.
Once again, Michael Raney had ruined
everything.
Chapter Five
SEEING Leah Kleinschmidt knocked Michael
flat on his ass—he’d thought so much about her, had lamented
leaving her more times than he could count—but this was so
unexpected and so shocking, he was not prepared to face her.
Not like this.
Unfortunately, it was too late, because he
had seen her, and now he had to get his shit together, because he
had to work, and before he did anything else, he had to kill Jack
for this little surprise.
Not before he got an explanation of how
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