Boardroom Bride and Groom. Shirley Jump

in Lawford, kissing each other goodbye over a cup of coffee every morning? Or would they have ended up exactly where they were—divorced, scarcely cordial colleagues? Nick still acting a lot like a college frat boy, Carolyn still the stiff Bostonian?

      “Those kids are going to need a truck to haul all this home,” Nick said, interrupting her thoughts.

      Carolyn smiled. “I think I saw some of those in aisle three.”

      “Don’t tempt me,” Nick said, and in his eyes, she read more than just the desire to buy a ride-on toy.

      There was a lingering desire for her. Still burning in his gaze. Emanating from his skin, his nearness. And who was she kidding? She still felt it, too.

      But the past was over. And for a good reason.

      They’d made a big mistake once. Only an idiot did that twice.

      “Well, I guess that’s it. I, ah, can run over to the department store and pick up some clothes and sheets, if you want to take care of this stuff,” Carolyn said, digging into her purse for money and then handing him half the cost of their purchases. Nick had agreed, since he had the bigger vehicle, to transport the toys to the picnic while she brought the other items. “See you tomorrow?” She tried to keep her tone as professional as it would be with a client.

      As she turned to go, Nick took a step toward her, bringing them within inches of each other. Heat tingled down her spine, igniting a fire that had been dormant for a long, long time. For a second, she wondered if he were about to kiss her. Some crazy part of her wanted him to do just that. The same crazy side that had acted without thinking back in college.

      Okay, probably not the best part of her brain to listen to.

      “Carolyn,” Nick said quietly.

      “What?” The word escaped her in a breath.

      “Don’t go. Not yet. Grab a drink with me. Catch up on old times.”

      Oh, how easy it would be to let herself get caught up in him again. But no, she was older. Smarter now.

      “Why, Nick? What’s changed, really? You never really got serious about us. And I was always going to put my career first. Never the twain shall meet, isn’t that what Shakespeare said?”

      “There was more to our breakup than just that, Carolyn. Much more,” he said, his eyes still on hers, his mouth inches away.

      Despite her words, for a second she wanted very much for the twain to meet. For this pounding need to be quieted.

      The rational half of her said this was desire, nothing more. At the same time, the feeling unnerved her, toppled her off her carefully planned and organized pedestal. She had no room in her days for a man like him—a man who would distract her, turn her from the very work that fulfilled her sense of self.

      She hadn’t the time then, she still didn’t have it now. Sharing a drink with him wouldn’t solve that dilemma.

      “You’re right,” Carolyn said. “And all those reasons are still there, Nick.”

      The temperature in the aisle dropped a few degrees. “As always, you make a compelling case, Counselor. Well, tomorrow then.” He turned to go, heading for the cash register.

      As she watched him disappear, Carolyn told herself she was glad she’d turned down Nick’s invitation. Because Nick Gilbert was a much-too-appetizing bowl of chocolate and cherry ice cream, and Carolyn was definitely feeling lactose intolerant.