other’s time trying to force it?”
“Well, jeez, Ellie,” Jayne said. “If you’d give me a little time, I bet I could find you—”
“No!”
“What about that guy you were with when you lived back east?” Regan asked. “Was he a lightning moment?”
“Nope. I loved him—before I knew what a piece of crap he was—but there was no lightning. No moment.” Ellie chuckled quietly. “Guess that should’ve been a clue right there, huh?”
“And there hasn’t been anyone else who…?” Thankfully, Maya’s snorting laugh stopped Regan’s question before she could finish asking it.
“Sometimes lightning ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.” She tipped her almost empty glass toward Ellie before cursing under her breath. “In my experience, lightning is nothing more than a warning sign of a big-ass storm brewing.”
“I wholeheartedly disagree,” Regan said with a grin. “There is, however, an exception to every rule, and I think your dickhead ex is just that.”
“What?” Maya laughed. “A dickhead or an exception to the rule?”
“Both, of course.”
The four of them clinked glasses a final time before settling their tab and heading out. As usual, Ellie walked Maya as far as her apartment, then headed down Victoria Street toward home. It wasn’t until she rounded the corner of her street that the vague feeling of unease hit her again.
What the heck?
The last of the hazy pink-and-gray dusk had almost given up to the growing darkness, but the streetlights were all on, and the McLarens’ beagle was barking itself silly, as it did every time they let it out in the yard. Across the street, Jackie was trying to herd her four-year-old twins into the house, and next door to them, big Dickie Garner sat on his front step, the burning tip of his cigarette glowing brighter when he inhaled.
Yup, everything was just as it should be. Her mom had even moved the porch chairs back to the way Ellie liked them.
“Hey, Mom.” She made sure to lock the door behind herself, then tossed her keys in the bowl on the table. “How was Gibbs tonight?”
“Even better-looking than last week.” Gail winked over the rim of her glasses. “Gabbie called. She’s got some time off, so I’m going to head out there on Thursday for a week or so. How was your evening?”
“Good.” Except for the part where she’d started to worry that the whole lightning thing might not happen for her—or, worse, that it already had and she was choosing to ignore it because of something in the past she was too stubborn to let go of.
But maybe she didn’t need the whole lightning thing. She couldn’t ask for better friends, she owned her own home, ran a successful business, and God knew there were plenty of guys out there looking for a date if she so chose, so really, she should be happy. And she was.
For the most part.
Maybe she should get a dog.
—
Brett waited just inside the door of Maya’s flower shop while she finished up with the guy at the counter.
“A dozen white?” she asked. “I’m sorry, we don’t have them in stock, as we don’t get a lot of call for white tulips—except during wedding season, of course.”
The guy nodded. “There’s no rush.”
“When would you like them?”
“Next week’s fine.” His voice was low, quiet. Smooth. Brett instantly didn’t like it.
“No problem. I get deliveries a couple times a week, so I can have them here on Monday or next Thursday.”
“Thursday’s fine.”
“Great. If you want to leave me your name and phone number, I’ll—”
“No, I’ll call back next week.”
“Okay, but I’ll need your—”
The guy turned and headed straight for the door, he and Brett giving each other a brief once-over before he exited and walked down the street. Medium build, shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, thin scar running along half of his chin, both ears double pierced, and purplish-tinted sunglasses. Not a local, at least not one Brett had ever seen, but there
“Well, jeez, Ellie,” Jayne said. “If you’d give me a little time, I bet I could find you—”
“No!”
“What about that guy you were with when you lived back east?” Regan asked. “Was he a lightning moment?”
“Nope. I loved him—before I knew what a piece of crap he was—but there was no lightning. No moment.” Ellie chuckled quietly. “Guess that should’ve been a clue right there, huh?”
“And there hasn’t been anyone else who…?” Thankfully, Maya’s snorting laugh stopped Regan’s question before she could finish asking it.
“Sometimes lightning ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.” She tipped her almost empty glass toward Ellie before cursing under her breath. “In my experience, lightning is nothing more than a warning sign of a big-ass storm brewing.”
“I wholeheartedly disagree,” Regan said with a grin. “There is, however, an exception to every rule, and I think your dickhead ex is just that.”
“What?” Maya laughed. “A dickhead or an exception to the rule?”
“Both, of course.”
The four of them clinked glasses a final time before settling their tab and heading out. As usual, Ellie walked Maya as far as her apartment, then headed down Victoria Street toward home. It wasn’t until she rounded the corner of her street that the vague feeling of unease hit her again.
What the heck?
The last of the hazy pink-and-gray dusk had almost given up to the growing darkness, but the streetlights were all on, and the McLarens’ beagle was barking itself silly, as it did every time they let it out in the yard. Across the street, Jackie was trying to herd her four-year-old twins into the house, and next door to them, big Dickie Garner sat on his front step, the burning tip of his cigarette glowing brighter when he inhaled.
Yup, everything was just as it should be. Her mom had even moved the porch chairs back to the way Ellie liked them.
“Hey, Mom.” She made sure to lock the door behind herself, then tossed her keys in the bowl on the table. “How was Gibbs tonight?”
“Even better-looking than last week.” Gail winked over the rim of her glasses. “Gabbie called. She’s got some time off, so I’m going to head out there on Thursday for a week or so. How was your evening?”
“Good.” Except for the part where she’d started to worry that the whole lightning thing might not happen for her—or, worse, that it already had and she was choosing to ignore it because of something in the past she was too stubborn to let go of.
But maybe she didn’t need the whole lightning thing. She couldn’t ask for better friends, she owned her own home, ran a successful business, and God knew there were plenty of guys out there looking for a date if she so chose, so really, she should be happy. And she was.
For the most part.
Maybe she should get a dog.
—
Brett waited just inside the door of Maya’s flower shop while she finished up with the guy at the counter.
“A dozen white?” she asked. “I’m sorry, we don’t have them in stock, as we don’t get a lot of call for white tulips—except during wedding season, of course.”
The guy nodded. “There’s no rush.”
“When would you like them?”
“Next week’s fine.” His voice was low, quiet. Smooth. Brett instantly didn’t like it.
“No problem. I get deliveries a couple times a week, so I can have them here on Monday or next Thursday.”
“Thursday’s fine.”
“Great. If you want to leave me your name and phone number, I’ll—”
“No, I’ll call back next week.”
“Okay, but I’ll need your—”
The guy turned and headed straight for the door, he and Brett giving each other a brief once-over before he exited and walked down the street. Medium build, shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, thin scar running along half of his chin, both ears double pierced, and purplish-tinted sunglasses. Not a local, at least not one Brett had ever seen, but there
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