And Then Came You Read Free Page B

world she
hadn’t
expected was Jeff Hendricks. Her lying, treacherous, backstabbing, no-good, son of a bitch ex-husband.
    Now maybe people will listen to me when I talk about signs of foreboding
.
    For one wild, weird moment, Sam was eighteen again. Pain glanced through her body like sunlight bouncing off a mirror. His ink-black hair was still just a little too long, grazing the top of his shirt collar. His deep blue eyes were fixed on her and the mouth that had once done some amazing things to her body was nothing more than a grim slash across his features.
    He didn’t look any happier to see her than she was to see him. Small comfort.
    So why was he here?
    “A while?” she echoed finally. “Not long enough.”
    “Good to see you, too,” he said tightly.
    She still hadn’t let go of the doorknob and she thought about giving it a hard push, slamming the door in his face, and pretending she’d never opened it. As if he could read her mind, he spoke up again quickly.
    “We have to talk.”
    Sam laughed shortly. Couldn’t help it, really. It blew out of her throat and scraped the air. “Oh, that’s a good one, coming from you.”
    When she’d tried to talk to him nine years before, he hadn’t even bothered to answer her letters.
Now
he wanted to talk? She didn’t think so.
    He sighed, then swept the edges of his brown sport coat back and shoved both hands into the pockets of his slacks. If he started jingling the coins in his pockets, she just might hit him.
    “I don’t like this any more than you do,” he said.
    “Sam?” Jo’s voice, coming from the kitchen. “Who is it?”
    She stiffened. Her sisters wouldn’t be real pleased to see the man still referred to in the Marconi household as the Bastard standing on the porch. Best to just get rid of him before a bloodbath could erupt.
    Man, how could a day go from crappy to downright rotten in the time it took to open a door?
    “Nobody,” she called back and wished it were true. Instead, her day was still racing downhill and the speed was blinding.
    Stepping out onto the porch, Sam pushed past him, pulling the door closed behind her. It was as if the morning rain had never happened. The sky was a blue so clear it almost hurt to look at it and the wind carried the fresh scent of the sea. From down the street came the sounds of kids playing at the park and she caught a whiff of smoke in the air, telling her that Mr. Bozeman was firing up his back-yard grill.
    Everything was as it should be.
    Normal.
    Except for the fact that a man from her past was suddenlycrowding her present. Dammit, a woman shouldn’t be distracted when trying to deal with someone like Jeff. She needed all cylinders firing. All thrusters up and moving.
    All bullets primed and pointed.
    Sam walked across the porch and stomped down the five steps to the brick walkway leading to the street. She didn’t bother to look behind her. She knew Jeff was following her. Not only could she hear his footsteps on the worn brick, she
felt
him.
    And how weird was that?
    He reached out, grabbed her arm, and pulled her around to face him. A bolt of something hot and completely inappropriate sliced through her like lightning spearing through storm clouds. For one heart-stopping second, she was eighteen again and feeling that electric charge that only happened when Jeff touched her.
    It had always been that way between them. Right from the first. And in that eternity-filled second, she remembered everything she had spent nine years trying to forget. Heat poured through her, boiling her blood and clouding her brain.
    Instinctively, Sam yanked free of his grasp and took a step back. “Do
not
touch me.”
    “Sorry.” He lifted both hands in mock surrender and nodded agreement to her terms. “It’s just—” He stopped, glanced around, then shifted his gaze back to her. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”
    Something cold and tight squeezed Sam’s heart, but she steeled herself against it.