Where We Meet Again (Arrow Creek 1)

Page 2

from some internet website, that means you haven’t gotten some in fourteen years. Are you sure your vagina still works?”
My spine straightens in affront. “I’m getting coffee right now. In the middle of a coffee shop. In public,” I hiss.
“Maybe you should get yourself checked to be sure. By a hot doctor, perhaps?”
“Do you want me to grab you a drink or not?” The line creeps forward, making me customer number three.
“Mocha macchiato with a double shot.”
The conversation pivots to a normal topic.
“Oh! A Gerard Butler look-a-like OB-GYN. Can you imagine the size of his–??
“What?” She feigns innocence, but I’m not stupid. “I was going to say hands, you perv.”
My eyes roll at the back of the stranger before me. “See you in fifteen.”
“That would make a good movie though. Gerard Butler, the hot, mercurial OB. By day, he feels up vaginas and by night he fuc–?.
“Goodbye, Kiersten!” I censor her ridiculous fantasy. My cheeks flame hot, even though the rest of me is cold from my walk.
“Oh hey, what time is the party? And what should I get her? I suck at buying gifts.”
A topic I’ll happily discuss in the middle of a public place.
“This Saturday at noon. My place, as usual. What does any fourteen-year-old like? Makeup, books, music, clothes. Nothing dating related.” Dating advice from Kiersten is a disaster waiting to happen. My best friend is beautiful, kind, but uncensored. I don’t want to imagine the knowledge she’d impart on a fourteen-year-old. “I can’t believe how old she’s getting. I’m not ready for this age.”
“You’re a great mom. You can handle anything. Okay, see you soon, chick.” With that, she hangs up.
As I lower the phone from my ear, ready to indulge in a serious amount of coffee, an ominous vibe slithers around me. My skin prickles as I place my phone into my purse and glance up. Hairs raise on the back of my neck as a shiver races down my spine. The tall man in front of me turns to face the back of the line, angry eyes aimed at me.
All of a millisecond passes in breathless silence before I get my first look into the fourteen-years-older face of my childhood love, Lawrence Briggs.
Or as I’d always called him—Law.
Oh, God.
He’s as beautiful as I remember. Same dark, unruly hair and grayish-green eyes. Now that dark hair contains a few threads of gray near the temples and feathered creases outline his eyes.
He’s tall. So much taller than the last time I saw him. And built. Law was always strong, but more lean than buff. Now big, rounded biceps stretch the sleeves of his Henley.
My mental calculation of all his changes sever when he opens his mouth.
“Explains a lot,” he growls, not concealing the tone or volume of his voice.
Panic steals over me. I bob a glance around the room for assistance. Everyone conveniently rushes around or ignores my blatant plea for an intervention.
“I-I’m sorry?” Shivers strengthen into a full-on tremble.
“Fourteen years ago, you disappeared into the night without a trace. Nobody had a clue where you’d went. Hearing you now, it sounds like you got yourself a teenaged daughter. Explains a lot.”
My jaw drops. The inclination to deny, deny, deny, thrums through me, but playing dumb will get me nowhere. There’s not a chance in hell I wouldn’t recognize the man standing before me, just like he noticed me as soon as I stepped into line behind him. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if he clocked me the second I opened the door to this place.
My gaze falls to study my wet shoes. “You don’t know anything.”
“I never was a stupid kid,” he grinds out.