Still the One. Michelle Major

box of dog biscuits. As she put the bag into the cargo area, something cold and wet nudged her thigh. She spun around.

      “Pita.” Lainey’s heart thudded against her rib cage. She dropped to her knees. “Oh, sweetie. How are you? How did you get here?”

      Glancing up, she had a brief glimpse of a dark head before Pita’s front paws slammed into her chest. She went over backward in a tangle of arms, legs and dog limbs.

      “Easy, girl.” Ethan’s deep voice cut through the quiet. He grabbed Pita’s collar and hauled the dog off her.

      Lainey lay flat on her back, legs splayed across the asphalt. Ethan loomed over her, fingers curled around the dog’s collar. Under the bright parking lot light, one corner of his mouth kicked up and his eyes danced, sending sparks flying in their deep centers.

      “I guess she’s better,” Lainey managed to say, wheezing a little as she tried to gather her wits. At least she had the good sense to close her legs.

      “Yep,” was his only answer.

      “How did you find me?”

      He shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d want to wait until morning, so I was driving out to Vera’s when I saw your car. Not a lot of fancy SUVs in Brevia.”

      She lifted a hand into the air. “You want to help me up?”

      He cocked his head to one side. “I kind of like you down there. I imagine you groveling for forgiveness at my feet.”

      “Fine,” she mumbled and looked away. She started to drop her arm, but he released his hold on the dog and grabbed her wrist. He hauled her to her feet so fast she stumbled forward into him. It was like falling against the side of a mountain.

      She pushed out her breath, not wanting to inhale his scent, and tried to step away. He held her close.

      “I fixed your dog,” he said, his voice rough against her ear. “I guess you owe me an apology and a thank you. How do you want to settle your debt?”

      A hundred wicked images flashed across her mind in the space of a second. A shiver of anticipation traveled the length of her body, starting at the top of her head and leaving a trail of goose bumps from the base of her neck to the tips of her toes. She shoved away from him and crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly aware that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

      His eyes gleamed black as night as he stared at her shirt.

      She dug in her heels and blurted, “I already apologized. I left you the letter. Right after …” Her voice faded as a murderous expression crossed his face. “I thought you would …”

      “I burned it.”

      The words slammed into her with the force of a hurricane. “Did you even read it?”

      He looked away for a few beats then jerked his head. “Before I burned it.”

      Her eyes widened. She’d poured her soul onto those pages, hoping he’d come after her. She’d spent days in that hotel room in Charlotte waiting for him, wanting to start over and make a life together. Hope had faded into uncertainty and finally a despair that had left her curled on the floor of the hotel bathroom, the blood vessels in her eyes broken from crying so hard.

      “Do you know what it took for me to tell you those things? You never …”

      “Do you know what it took,” he shot back, “for me to stand at the front of that church waiting for you? Half the town watched me get dumped on my wedding day.”

      Her anger melted away as fresh waves of guilt washed over her, filling her lungs until her entire body ached with it. “I didn’t dump you,” she whispered.

      “Pardon me if I don’t get the terminology right. What would you call it? Jilted? Screwed over? Left behind?”

      Is that what he thought? That by leaving she’d abandoned him? Maybe he couldn’t understand how it had hurt her to watch the pity in his eyes as he’d said he’d still marry her. She’d been so grief-stricken and ashamed, she couldn’t face him and the letter had seemed her only option.

      If he’d burned the letter after what she’d written, she knew without a doubt she’d done the right thing. All these years later there was no comfort in that fact.

      “Things happen for a reason,” she said, not believing it. Acid rose in her gut as she forced a smile. “The way I see it now, you should have been relieved. Didn’t I let you off the biggest hook in history?”

       Chapter Five

      She had him there, Ethan thought.

      Those were the exact words his buddies used when they’d taken him out to the local bar to get hammered after finding the ring and the note on the bathroom sink in the basement of the church that day.

      Ethan, drunk off his gourd and egged on by a friend, had burned it in a bonfire out at Stroud’s Run Lake. He’d cursed himself and his wicked hangover the next morning when he’d wanted to read her words again. He wasn’t about to admit that now.

      “You’re right,” he told her. “I just wish you’d figured it out before I put on the monkey suit.”

      “I wish a lot of things, Ethan.”

      The mix of sympathy and sadness in her eyes grabbed at his gut. He didn’t want her sympathy. “You did us both a favor, I guess. I was a lousy boyfriend and would’ve made a worse husband.”