Page 6 of Their Stormy Reunion

I’d researched the hell out of it. It was the real deal. She had impressive testimonials on her website from heavy hitters. Hell, there was even a magazine spread in Tech Leaders to Watch. The photos of her made my chest ache. She’d always been beautiful but now she radiated poise and confidence. She’d carved out a life for herself and didn’t look back.

That was my dirty secret. I stalked her company. Her success. Her life. She was my drug of choice, a craving that I couldn’t quit.

And now she was back.

It took a moment for me to realize that the side door was slowly opening. Fallon’s mom came out, clutching her sweater around her, then opened the front passenger door of the Audi. She turned and said something, then Fallon and Bob walked out. Bob was leaning heavily on Fallon.

Shit.

This was not good. Bob was a big guy and Fallon was small like her mother.

I didn’t think, I just acted. I was out of my truck and sprinting across the street before I knew what I was doing. All three people looked at me as I walked up to them.

Fallon noticed me first. I drank her up, not caring how I must look. But Fallon just stared back. No smile, no frown, no reaction, nothing.

“Michael!” Isla smiled. “What are you doing here? Did Fallon call you to help?”

Bob was grinning. “Fallon can’t do this by herself. It’s good you’re here. Her mother calls one of those transport companies to pick us up for my doctor appointments, but Fallon was sure she could handle this on her own. I knew she couldn’t. But now I see why she thought she had this handled. She called you.”

Fourteen years dropped away and I was a junior in high school all over again, listening to Mr. Vickers belittle his daughter, just like he used to. I looked at Fallon. She was much better at hiding it than she had back then, but underneath her icy expression, I saw the flash of pain.

“Yes, she called me. I’m sorry I was late,” I lied.

I walked closer to where Fallon was standing with Bob’s arm around her shoulders. “May I?” I whispered softly.

She inclined her head, her movements measured and restrained. I carefully eased Bob’s weight off her shoulders and shifted him to mine. He wasn’t light, but I easily transferred him to the passenger seat.

“Are you coming with us?” Isla asked. I read her hopeful expression.

“Of course he is,” Bob said, his grin smug.

Again, I glanced over at Fallon. I waited for her to say something. Her expression was carved from stone. I was doomed.

“I think Fallon’s got it from here.”

“But, it’s even harder to get Bob up to the entrance of the doctor’s office.” Mrs. Vicker’s voice wavered.

Aw, shit.

I turned to Fallon and lifted my eyebrows.

“Michael is following us in his truck,” she clipped out. I wondered whether she used this same tone of voice when she negotiated with clients.

“That’s right.” It was a good idea. Being in an enclosed space with Fallon definitely wasn’t a good idea until I had my head on straight. God knew when that was going to be.

“Drive slow so you don’t lose him,” Bob admonished his daughter. “No Chicago driving.”

Fallon nodded, then went around the front of her SUV, got into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. I knocked on the window. She rolled it down. I whispered ‘sorry’ low enough so her parents couldn’t hear.

She gave me a tight nod, then the window slid back up and she slowly pulled out of the driveway. I could see her white knuckles on the steering wheel.

When I heard Bob start to lecture Fallon on how to drive, I turned and jogged back to my truck. When I climbed into the cab, I let out a long breath. I had no idea how I was going to fix this. None. But just because I didn’t have a plan, didn’t mean I couldn’t win the battle. And dammit, I was going to win Fallon back, even if it killed me.

What in the hell had I done to deserve this? After three days, I was finally getting a grip on Mom and Dad—why did Michael have to show up? I snuck a peek at him as we sat across from one another in the doctor’s office waiting room. He was sitting with his ankle resting over his knee, leaning back in the chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. His henley shirt was dark green and it stretched across his broad shoulders. He must have gained forty pounds of muscle since I’d last seen him. I never knew I was into muscles, but I was now. Then there was the blonde scruff on his face. He used to shave on the weekdays but not on the weekends and I could still remember how that stubble would feel along the inside of my thighs.

Get it together, Vickers! Stop with the sex thoughts!

I looked back down at the tablet in my hand and stared at the e-mail that still wasn’t making any sense. I was smart, everybody told me so. That’s why they hired my company. So, I needed to quit lusting over a cheat, and stay on point. But why did he have to push my buttons like no man ever had? I felt sweat beading on the back of my neck. I needed bourbon and my vibrator, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to use my toy while I was at my parents’ house. Well, there was always the old-fashioned way, no batteries needed.