Page 1

CHAPTER 1

HANNAH

I’d never been a betting woman. In fact, I was risk averse. Especially in my personal life. But I would have put good money down on the possibility of ever crossing paths again with Ross London as zero to minus infinity.

Like never ever again, as long as we both shall live.

And yet, in the hope that the apparition headed my way would turn out to be nothing but an illusion, I blinked rapidly, desperate to clear my vision.

No. Such. Luck.

So, with a confidence I struggled to hold on to, I maintained eye contact with my onetime nemesis, Ross London, who showed absolutely no sign of surprise at seeing me. But his brothers who’d followed him certainly did.

All three London brothers at one time had kept the truancy officers and teenage girls of Pineville consistently occupied. Two out of the three men had ended up living respectable lives. Happily married and settled. The third, I had no idea. Respectable? I doubted it. Settled and married? Lord help the woman who had tied herself to the youngest brother.

Appetite now ruined, I lowered my favorite sandwich back onto the plate. I’d met my brother for lunch at our favorite deli, an event that some would say was historic in and of itself considering his packed work-slash-womanizing schedule.

Unfortunately, my brother was of no help. Jett continued to devour his Reuben, and my level of pissed-off increased. He’d spent the last ten minutes talking non-stop about his expansion plans for his tattoo parlor. Not that I expected him to pick up on my shift in energy. But it would have been nice for once.

And some warning that his long-lost best friend was back in town would have been better.

“Masters, guess we don’t need to meet up later? Man, it’s been too long.” Ross had broken away from his brothers and stopped next to our table. Like, right next. His hard to miss large hands spanned his hips as he settled his stance. And oh-m-gee, his even harder to miss thickly muscled thighs were smack dab at eye level, along with the bulge in his jeans. An area that I had spent way too much time in high school wondering if he’d been a sock stuffer.

Nope. That area was pure Ross. And now, just like then, it became impossible for me to look away. Damn. Heat infused my cheeks. As nonchalantly as I could, I sipped my ice water and prayed for a distraction.

It’d take just about anything right now. But no one came to my rescue.

How many years had it been since I was this close to Ross? Had I ever been this close to him? Biting my tongue, I held back a groan, or was that a moan? My thoughts swirled in panic as that old frustration and, okay, attraction overwhelmed me. An attraction I thought I’d effectively shoved into a vault sixteen years ago.

Hiding my reaction to Ross each time he visited our house, or every day in high school, had become second nature to me. Even as I’d secretly hoped he liked me. But that girl was gone, and as the seconds passed with no drool trickling down my chin, I silently congratulated myself on remaining in control. Until a waft of his aftershave hit me.

The same damn aftershave he wore all those years ago. A dangerous mix of earthy spice and man. Because there’d been nothing boyish about Ross in high school. He was, and probably still is, six feet three inches tall. Back then, he’d been made of lean muscle mixed with a pent-up rage born of a chaotic home life, producing a bad boy no girl could ignore. Including me.

Unfortunately, I’d been a favorite target of his and not in a good way. He’d been my teasing tormentor, and lord help me, my secret crush throughout high school.

Memories continued to swirl as Jett shot out of the booth, bear-hugging his long-lost best friend. A friend he apparently had plans with later but neglected to tell me or inform me that Ross had returned to Pineville after almost sixteen years.

Ross might have been Jett’s best friend, but he’d been my worst enemy. Facing the man once again who made my high school years utterly confusing as I battled daily between my teenage lust and pure hatred for him twisted my insides. I needed to get out of here.

But then I remembered the odd occurrences when I’d catch Ross staring at me almost quizzically, as if I was a problem to be solved. On those occasions, my imagination ran wild; and I’d pretend he saw me as a ripe apple ready to be plucked. And yeah, I really wanted him to pluck me.

My daydreams, however, never ended well. Ross would shake his head, unleashing an epic put-down on either my choice of outfit or my obsession with art and painting. I had no trouble snapping right back at him, usually about his poor choice in girlfriends.

When I would complain to Jett, he’d defend Ross, saying his friend was only looking out for me when it came to boys. As if Ross was supposed to be another brother or my protector or something.

But as bad as it was, nothing kept me from imagining Ross late at night as I hugged my pillow, pretending it was him.

But most of all, I wished he hadn’t been my brother’s best friend.

“Bro, it’s damn good to see you. Sit down. You remember my sister, Hannah, right? Sis, you don’t mind if he joins us?” Jett turned to me, a huge grin on his face.

Still clueless. Guess I’d done too good a job hiding the inner anxiety storm raging inside me. What was even worse was the look on Ross’ face as both men waited for my answer. There was no hatred, only intense interest. The kind I would have swooned over in school.

Then I did what I hadn’t done since high school. My mouth moved, but no sound came out, and I froze.

CHAPTER 2

ROSS