If Only (The Willowbrook Series Book 1) by Ashlyn Mathews

Chapter One
    A funeral was the worst place for a reunion.
    Beneath her umbrella, Asa kept her head lowered, otherwise, she’d stare at the man standing in front of the casket. Beneath his black suit, his shoulders drooped. Cold rain fell, and Asa wasn’t sure if he kept his gaze downcast to shield his face or to hide his grief.
    Rhys Miles . The man who had hurt her with an insensitive comment during one of the most memorable nights of her life, and a man she had hurt in return with her own cutting words.
    The minister said a final prayer, and in unison with the other mourners, Asa whispered an “Amen” and gave the casket one final glance before she hurried away. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough.
    “You weren’t invited, Asa.”
    It would’ve been easy to dismiss his grief and walk away from him, the harshness in his tone a reminder of what had happened between them a year ago. But no matter how much Rhys disliked her, it wasn’t the right thing to do.
    Gripping the handle of the umbrella, she took a deep breath before pivoting to face the man who meant more to her than the good friend he used to be.
    “I loved your grandmother, and she cared about me. I have every right to be here.”
    Unlike the other mourners who came prepared with an umbrella in hand, Rhys appeared to enjoy the rain as he shoved his hands into his pant pockets and glanced up at the sky. Water dripped off his head and down the sides of his face, drawing her attention to his loosened tie and the hint of tan skin beneath the collar of his shirt before her gaze drifted back to the raindrops clinging to his lashes.
    If things were different between them, she’d share in his sadness and settle her head on his chest, over the spot above his heart. She’d run her fingers across the straight brows over his intense hazel eyes then down the chiseled plane of his face before she’d press her lips to his cheek.
    But their situation remained the same as it had for the past year. He avoided her. She tried to forget him. It hadn’t been easy. Asa waited for him to say something, anything. The rain continued to patter about them while his silence echoed in her ears.
    The umbrella, with its edges tilted upward, should’ve distanced them. Instead, it sheltered them from curious stares as the others filtered to their cars leaving her alone with him.
    Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned forward and crowded her space. “You might’ve been Jo’s neighbor, and yeah, she might’ve loved you like you were her own flesh and blood, but she damn well knew how I feel about you.”
    How I feel about you . His last words whispered hot on her forehead. Yes, Jo might’ve caught on to why he disliked and had avoided Asa whenever he was in town. But she and Jo had never discussed how Asa felt about him.
    What would she say to Jo? Yes, I’m in love with your grandson and have been since I was sixteen, and oh by the way, he hates me because I blamed him for the car accident that killed my father .
    No, she couldn’t tell his grandmother that piece of news. Biting the corner of her lips, she mentally counted to ten and tried to forget the hurt on Rhys’s face that day. The task proved difficult. She hadn’t been this close to him since they had slept together at a party almost a year ago.
    At the memory of that unforgettable night, her gaze strayed to the hollow at the base of his throat, lingering on a spot she had flicked her tongue over, the salty taste of him from their lovemaking still embedded deep in her memory. Through the smell of the water washing the sky clean, she caught a whiff of his deodorant. Old Spice . Sexy, familiar, and very much Rhys.
    Suddenly, without another word, he straightened and barged past her, leaving her alone to wonder whether their close proximity had affected him as much as it had her. In the quiet and solitude of the cemetery, the noise of an engine and the popping of a muffler had her turning to see Rhys driving off in