more. Her body was screaming for passion—excitement. Like a pink neon sign flashing in her brain: Hot Sex . Yet, it wasn't her nature to take part in that without love, or at least something akin to it.
Someone tapped on her shoulder, and she turned around. "Hey," Corryn said, blowing some long, dark wisps out of her big, dark eyes and away from her face, which was pretty even when it was frowning. She was five-two like Billy, but Corryn was slim and petite like their mom.
Corryn looked up and around the crowd. "Two seats just opened up at the bar. Wanna sit over there?"
"Sure," Billy replied. She followed her sister to the bar, and they both hopped onto their stools.
"Sorry we had to meet here," Corryn remarked as she slid off her tailored leather jacket.
"Why? I don't mind this place."
"No, it's great, except it's a pickup joint, the music's too loud, and half the guys are muscleheads." After she folded her jacket and set it neatly on her lap, she shifted to get comfortable on the stool.
Billy brushed off her sister's cynicism and tried to make eye contact with the bartender, who ignored her for a few laps around the bar before finally approaching. "Ladies, what can I get you?" Up close, Billy noticed that he was cute in a hulking, musclehead kind of way. He also had that perfunctory Boston-bartender attitude down: barely a smile, acting like he was doing them a favor.
"Raspberry liqueur, vodka, and Diet Sprite with crushed ice," Billy said.
"Make it two," Corryn interjected as she toyed absently with the clunky silver heart that hung around her neck. Incidentally, it was the only thing her ex-husband, Kane, had given her that she'd kept—the only thing that didn't somehow reek of their marriage.
"So how was your day?" Billy asked.
"Not bad," she replied with a shrug. "I showed a luxury condo to a punk band."
"Hmm."
"And apparently the Patriots lost last night, so Annette was in a shitty mood." Annette Beefe was Corryn's boss at Blue Sky Realty, whose garish Patriots parka was practically sewed to her body. "What about you? Anything new?"
Billy was about to tell her about seeing Seth when the bartender slid their sparkly pink tumblers forward. After he turned to another customer, Corryn took a sip of her raspberry crush. "Enh, this is weak," she said, making a face. "Sorry, what were you saying?"
"Well... I saw Seth today," Billy said.
"Uh-huh— wait. You mean Seth as in Seth from four years ago?" After Billy nodded, Corryn's eyes widened. "Oh, my God! Okay, back up; I need major details."
Billy explained about Seth's return to Massachusetts, his reason for coming to Bella Donna, and the pleasant chat they'd had that afternoon. After she was finished, Corryn pointed out that she'd omitted the most important part. "So how does he look?"
"Great," Billy admitted, and took a drink. As the tangy, bubbly liquid slid down her throat, she tried not to dwell on how great. Unsurprisingly, though, it didn't work, and a soft sigh escaped her lips.
Seth still had that warm, sexy grin, those sultry hazel eyes, and that easy, unassuming handsomeness that could stop her heart.
"Come on, there must be something wrong with him," Corryn said, reaching inside her jacket pocket for a cigarette. Then she froze—as she always did when she remembered there was no smoking in bars—and sighed irritably. It wasn't a particularly new rule, but alcohol always triggered her nicotine craving. "How's his hair?" she asked.
Hmm... she could say it looked gorgeous, darkly golden, and feather-soft to touch, but she knew that wasn't what her sister meant. "Not receding," Billy said with a smirk.
"His waistline?"
Billy shrugged. "He looks like he's in great shape"—mouth-wateringly great, and felt like it, too—"even better than when we were going out."
"Well that's annoying."
"Valid," Billy mumbled, grinning in spite of herself. "So, basically, we're talking no comb-over, no belly that could be detected, and no weak chin,
Someone tapped on her shoulder, and she turned around. "Hey," Corryn said, blowing some long, dark wisps out of her big, dark eyes and away from her face, which was pretty even when it was frowning. She was five-two like Billy, but Corryn was slim and petite like their mom.
Corryn looked up and around the crowd. "Two seats just opened up at the bar. Wanna sit over there?"
"Sure," Billy replied. She followed her sister to the bar, and they both hopped onto their stools.
"Sorry we had to meet here," Corryn remarked as she slid off her tailored leather jacket.
"Why? I don't mind this place."
"No, it's great, except it's a pickup joint, the music's too loud, and half the guys are muscleheads." After she folded her jacket and set it neatly on her lap, she shifted to get comfortable on the stool.
Billy brushed off her sister's cynicism and tried to make eye contact with the bartender, who ignored her for a few laps around the bar before finally approaching. "Ladies, what can I get you?" Up close, Billy noticed that he was cute in a hulking, musclehead kind of way. He also had that perfunctory Boston-bartender attitude down: barely a smile, acting like he was doing them a favor.
"Raspberry liqueur, vodka, and Diet Sprite with crushed ice," Billy said.
"Make it two," Corryn interjected as she toyed absently with the clunky silver heart that hung around her neck. Incidentally, it was the only thing her ex-husband, Kane, had given her that she'd kept—the only thing that didn't somehow reek of their marriage.
"So how was your day?" Billy asked.
"Not bad," she replied with a shrug. "I showed a luxury condo to a punk band."
"Hmm."
"And apparently the Patriots lost last night, so Annette was in a shitty mood." Annette Beefe was Corryn's boss at Blue Sky Realty, whose garish Patriots parka was practically sewed to her body. "What about you? Anything new?"
Billy was about to tell her about seeing Seth when the bartender slid their sparkly pink tumblers forward. After he turned to another customer, Corryn took a sip of her raspberry crush. "Enh, this is weak," she said, making a face. "Sorry, what were you saying?"
"Well... I saw Seth today," Billy said.
"Uh-huh— wait. You mean Seth as in Seth from four years ago?" After Billy nodded, Corryn's eyes widened. "Oh, my God! Okay, back up; I need major details."
Billy explained about Seth's return to Massachusetts, his reason for coming to Bella Donna, and the pleasant chat they'd had that afternoon. After she was finished, Corryn pointed out that she'd omitted the most important part. "So how does he look?"
"Great," Billy admitted, and took a drink. As the tangy, bubbly liquid slid down her throat, she tried not to dwell on how great. Unsurprisingly, though, it didn't work, and a soft sigh escaped her lips.
Seth still had that warm, sexy grin, those sultry hazel eyes, and that easy, unassuming handsomeness that could stop her heart.
"Come on, there must be something wrong with him," Corryn said, reaching inside her jacket pocket for a cigarette. Then she froze—as she always did when she remembered there was no smoking in bars—and sighed irritably. It wasn't a particularly new rule, but alcohol always triggered her nicotine craving. "How's his hair?" she asked.
Hmm... she could say it looked gorgeous, darkly golden, and feather-soft to touch, but she knew that wasn't what her sister meant. "Not receding," Billy said with a smirk.
"His waistline?"
Billy shrugged. "He looks like he's in great shape"—mouth-wateringly great, and felt like it, too—"even better than when we were going out."
"Well that's annoying."
"Valid," Billy mumbled, grinning in spite of herself. "So, basically, we're talking no comb-over, no belly that could be detected, and no weak chin,
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