The One That Got Away Read Free Page B

utterly cross?
    Because
you are not what you used to be. Because he reminds you of better
times.
    Cammy’s
heart fluttered under her miserable thoughts. She opened her eyes and
scooped up the box. Yeah, that was why. He looked gorgeous, unchanged
from years ago, except for being bigger—bulkier, and definitely
more handsome. Though how he got more handsome was beyond her, he had
always been—and still was, apparently—the best-looking
man she had ever seen. His dark eyes but light hair were still the
same. He looked shaggy and unkempt, so like the teenager she used to
know—and love.
    She,
on the other hand, was no longer anything like the girl he had known.
    “ Not
a good start to the day.” Cammy lifted the box onto the counter
top and caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. God, she
looked a mess. Scruffy hair, no makeup, and… Her eyes dropped
to her scarf. She unraveled it and winced as her scars became
visible. Pink and white against her slightly tanned skin tone—Cammy
hated them, hated what they looked like, hated what they did to her
personality. Hated what they reminded her of.
    Thank
God I had my scarf on.
    How
would she explain them to Will? Her mind flashed the image of his
surprised smile. He still had the same twinkle in his eyes, the
playful expression that he had reserved solely for her. He had been
such a quiet boy, shy from the way his father had brought him up, but
with her he had always sparkled and laughed.
    She
could tell he was happy now, and she couldn’t help but
wonder—with a painful, heavy feeling—if that was due to a
woman. Was he married? Cammy took a deep breath to ward off the ache
that bit the back of her throat at that thought. It had been ten
years, and looking like he did, he was bound to be settled.
    Stupid
Cammy…
    The
full force of what her life was hit her like a freight train, right
in the heart. She was alone, with not many friends. Her parents had
passed away a few years back. All she had now was the country pub,
and a healthy bank account. Not what she had dreamed of—that
was for sure.
    Had
she been waiting for him? The idea seemed ridiculous now: waiting for
ten years—ten whole years—for someone to come back into
her life and sweep her off her feet.
    She
looked back up into the mirror and grimaced at what she saw. A woman
alone, scarred and bitter, because she had given her heart to someone
at the age of eighteen—and had never got it back.
    Pathetic…

    *
* * *

    Will
stepped out of his car and looked up at the gold-lettered pub sign.
The old Peacock was just the same as every English pub, with its
large bay windows, pretty brickwork and heavy oak doors—except
for one thing. Cammy.
    When
Will had gone back to his bed-and-breakfast hotel he had asked about
the bar, hoping to get some information on Cammy and why she had the
keys to the place. It turned out Cammy was the owner, and had been
for six years.
    To
say this surprised Will was an understatement. She had always been a
dreamer, a person Hell-bent on escaping this small village, not
buying the heart of it and setting down roots. Buying a pub was for
chatty, nosy people, not timid women who struggle in social
situations.
    Who
was Cammy these days? The things he had learned about her didn’t
fit the image he had held in his mind all these years.
    The
woman from the B-and-B had said Cammy was quiet, and always working.
She had laughed when he had asked if she were married, as if it was
an in-joke Will was not privy to. “No. No, Camilia isn’t
married—and I don’t think she’s the sort,”
she had said.
    Not
the sort?
    She
had been ten years ago; she had talked about her wedding day, and
kids. Why had all that changed?
    The
woman in the B-and-B had been a hub of information, about Cammy and
just about every other business owner. She had bleated for hours over
everyone, and it had been a struggle to steer her towards more talk
of Cammy. Will had to admit he was desperate to know more—a