Star Kissed: A Crane Series Romance Read Free Page B

three people and awkwardly apologized before he figured out that the same rules of the road apply on the running paths. Left-hand side.
    “Sorry,” he said after the last crash.
    “No worries, mate,” came the cheerful reply.
    Everyone in Sydney seemed cheerful, from the staff at the airport to Bronwyn to the woman in the corner store. Everyone but him. It was more difficult than he’d imagined to come to this place, to the very company where so much had been stolen from him. It wasn’t just his woman, but the future he’d so carefully mapped out, his sense of himself as a man certain of his place in the world and certain of the woman by his side. Jen.
    She’d come here a matter of months ago with his ring on her finger and a caterer already chosen for their wedding. Then she’d met Cameron Crane and next thing he knew, she was dumping him on his ass. He’d acted like a man, of course, and pride had brought him through the first awkward meeting with her when she and Crane had flown to San Francisco for meetings. He’d even held it together through the excruciating face-to-face with Cameron Crane himself.
    Jennifer had stripped him of a lot, but at least she’d left him his professional pride. She’d asked him to come here because he was the best. He was here for the same reason, and to prove to her, Cameron Crane, and anyone else who cared, that he was unmoved enough by the breakup to come and do a job for his ex-fiancée’s new boyfriend. They hadn’t been right for each other, Jen had told him, but Mark didn’t see it that way. They were both decent, hard-working people. They liked the same restaurants, both loved theater. She didn’t care for baseball, but since he was a fan she’d made an effort, and he’d done the same for her with ballet.
    Now, instead of a wedding and a life plan, he had nothing. No. Not true, he reminded himself. He had freedom, and a new cynicism that showed him the error of his former ways. If he’d learned anything in the past few months it was that nice guys like him really did finish last. Well, no more. No more Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Responsible, Mr. Sensitive to a woman’s needs. He’d been tossed over for a marginally evolved, hairy brute with a boxer’s nose and a swagger. If that’s what women really wanted, Mark Forsythe was going to give it to them.
    And what better place to start than this land of rugged, fierce individualists. And the women! He’d heard about the women. Gorgeous, free-spirited gals who sunbathed topless and partied as hard as the men. He was going to get him some of that. Every night a new woman. Maybe a handful. And when he was through, Jen and his tame dreams would be as much a part of the past as his ambition to be a fireman when he was eight years old. He’d outgrown that silly red plastic fireman’s hat with the stick-on gold badge, and he’d outgrown the idea of marriage and settling down. Jennifer Talbot had done him a favor by dumping him. Yes, she had.
    As he ran the kinks out of his body and the fuzziness from his mind, Mark began to see the humor in the current situation. A gorgeous woman wanted to spend some time with him, and he was doing his best to throw her out. He wasn’t a fool—most of the time—and since his recent breakup, he’d grown increasingly cynical about women and their motives, about love, and most especially, about marriage. He’d eat this woman’s dinner, let her stay the night, and then tomorrow he’d start on an aggressive plan to turn himself into the hard-bitten playboy that women seemed to prefer. He’d probably have a lot of fun along the way, too.
    He ran three miles or so. He passed families with kids in strollers, and tried not to notice. He passed lovers, arm in arm, giggling softly about their private jokes, and scowled. And he passed a couple of guys like himself. Unencumbered, free to wander with a Saturday morning latte, or run, or do whatever the hell they felt like. His people. He began to