Chapter One
Shayla stood on the porch of Vance’s home, shaking with nerves. She hadn’t seen him for twelve years. Each day away from him had caused her heart to ache. Stomach in knots, Shayla thought again about how much time she’d wasted, and all because of one man’s hatred. Her father had done everything in his power to keep her away from Vance Jennings, but those days were over, and Shayla aimed to set things right. If Vance slammed the door in her face, so be it, but at least she had to try.
She took a deep breath and rang the bell. After a few seconds, the door swung wide. A shiver ran the length of her spine at the sight of Vance standing in front of her in a heather-gray T-shirt and well-worn jeans. She’d always had that reaction to seeing him. Why should the years apart change anything? Vance Jennings had the looks of a charmer, only with a rougher edge, as if he’d had more than his fair share of hard knocks and had come away with more than a scratch or two. She took a moment and looked him over, all but breathing in the perfection of him.
His hair was as dark as the night itself, shiny and thick and long enough to be irresistible, even if it did need a good comb-through. The glow from the light behind him cast iridescent colors throughout the thick mass. Her gaze traveled over the angles of his face, noting every taut plane, the stubble covering his chin, and especially the generous line of his mouth. God, not even an artist could draw a mouth as soft and inviting as Vance’s. The man was just so damn kissable. Always had been. Shayla sighed as she realized how much harder this meeting was going to be than she’d originally thought.
She noticed the way he watched her. Like an angry panther, his eyes were always so intense, and they seemed to see right into her soul. When he looked her over from head to toe, Shayla stiffened. Sure, the years had been kind to Vance, but what would he think of her after all this time? She’d filled out, pretty much all over. Gone was the skinny young girl with stars in her eyes.
Enough, she chastised herself. She wasn’t here to visually devour the man. She was supposed to explain why she’d dumped him like so much garbage and walked out of his life over a decade ago. Should be a ton of fun.
“Shayla,” Vance gritted out. He blinked a few times, and Shayla wondered if he was as baffled as she was by her presence. And the way he said her name, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, didn’t give Shayla much confidence either.
“Hi,” she said, smiling in an effort to hide her anxiety.
Vance frowned. “It’s been a long time, Shay.”
Don’t I know it? A gust of cold January wind hit her in the face, and Shayla stiffened. “May I come in?”
He hesitated, but Shayla couldn’t blame him. After what she’d done to him, he had every right to slam the door in her face. When he stepped back and let her into the foyer, Shayla counted it as a small victory. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” she said, then cringed at the sound of her own voice. She was talking to him as if he were a perfect stranger. As if they hadn’t once been in love.
Vance shut the door and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Nope.”
“Oh, well, that’s good,” she said as she looked down at the floor and hitched her purse up her arm. Where was she supposed to begin? Even though she’d rehearsed this a million times, Shayla was suddenly at a loss for words.
“You might as well get to it.”
At the sound of Vance’s deep voice, Shayla looked up. Their gazes connected, and she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her throat closed up and her heart rate sped. When her face felt as if it were on fire, Shayla groaned. Oh please, not now. She simply could not have a panic attack now. When her lips began to tingle and her eyes felt as if they were bulging out of her head, Shayla knew that was exactly what was happening.
Vance stepped forward and took hold of her shoulders, his expression filled with concern. “Hey, you okay?”
Shayla couldn’t get her mouth to work properly, so she shook her head instead. Her hand went to the front of her turtleneck sweater and yanked in an attempt to get air into her starving lungs. It didn’t help; nothing would. She felt Vance tugging her coat off, and within seconds, he had her sitting on the couch.
Vance crouched in front of her. “Easy now,” he murmured. “Just relax and take a few deep breaths.”
She did as he instructed, and when her face started to cool down, she knew the anxiety was beginning to pass. A large palm pressed to the back of her neck and rubbed. For a moment, Shayla let herself sink into the warmth of having Vance’s gentle palm against her skin. After so many years without his touch, she wanted to soak in every second. Too soon, he was moving away. He sat in the chair across from her, his expression unreadable.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m not sure what happened there.”
He cleared his throat and sat back. “Now that you can breathe, care to explain why you’ve decided to show up on my doorstep after all this time?”
Here goes nothing. “I wanted to clear the air,” she blurted out.
Vance’s gaze shot wide. “Are you for real?”
Oh yeah, there’s that Vance Jennings temper. “I know I don’t deserve it,” she said, “but please listen to me.”
Vance shrugged. “Why would you think I’d even care? It’s been twelve years, Shay. A lot of time has passed.”
She held up her hands, palms out. “You’re right, there’s no reason you should give a fig, but aren’t you a little bit curious? Didn’t you wonder why I wrote that letter telling you we needed some time apart?”
“No,” he bit out, “because I already knew why.”
Her own temper flared. He was so sure he had all the answers, but Shayla knew better this time. “Oh really?”