Page 10 of Vincent
"You used to have the same problem when you were in high school and even in college," he recalled with an absent look on his face. "You would braid it for a week and decide that it did not suit you. That's the only time I've ever known you to be indecisive."
She hid her surprise and delight at how much he remembered about her from the past.
"It drove you crazy," she said with a laugh. "One day you would see me with braids, and the next, I was without."
"One day you decided to wear a wig." A laugh escaped him that had her poking him in the ribs. "It was funny as hell. It was long and completely not your style."
"The guy I was going out with liked it."
"The guy was a moron who would have said anything to get into your pants," he growled.
She tilted her head to stare at him. "You said the exact words to him."
"He needed to know that I saw right through him." He turned to look away at the flowers blooming at the edge of the lake and concentrated hard on the scent of them filling his nostrils and not her scent. She was wearing something subtle, a perfume that suited her.
He was bringing up things from their past. For the first time in years, he wasn't dwelling on the bitterness of his loss. He was with a friend, someone who had been there for him in the past.
"Why didn't you call, Thea?" he asked again, turning his head to look at her.
She shrugged. "I figured you wanted space."
"I missed you. Missed your dry sense of humor and sharp tongue." He started to reach out to touch her cheek but held back. "You always told me the truth."
She turned away from his hypnotic eyes. "You had Lizzie for that; you certainly didn't need me. We had separate lives."
He touched her then, his hand reaching out to grip her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Was there someone in France?"
Her brows arched at his intrusive question. "Forgive me, I'm overstepping."
"No, you're not. Yes, there was someone. His name was Francois and he was sweet." A smile touched her lips.
Something unfamiliar jammed into his chest, something he did not want to put a finger on. "What happened?"
"We were not suited." She did not tell him the rest, that Francois wanted marriage and children, but her heart was otherwise engaged.
"I see." His hand dropped from her chin. He should be going. That had been his intention when he walked out of the function, to go home to his son, but being here with her, it relaxed him.
He found out that he liked talking to her. That had always been the case. They had always fallen into conversations easily and had told each other everything.
That had changed when he met Lizzie. She had been threatened by his relationship with Thea, he recalled, and had pointed out that it wasn't right for him to be spending so much time with another woman. When he tried to explain that Thea was his best friend, that had made it even worse.
"I'm supposed to be your best friend. You said you loved me-"
"I do."
"Then choose."
And he had. He had cut her off, severed contact with his best friend. She had never even told him she was leaving town. He had found out after and just left it at that.
He was the one to break the silence again. "You're a success."
"I would like to think so." Her eyes drifted to the building where people were no doubt looking for her. She should go back in but had wanted some time and space to think. Her brother would be calling down her phone in a few minutes.
But oh, how she wanted to stay right here with Vincent. She loved seeing him looking so relaxed and almost carefree. He reminded her of the Vincent she had known in the past. She wanted to crawl into his arms and feel his lips on hers. Feel his body on hers.
His cologne was spicy and so him. His navy blue sports jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, the cut superb. The breeze had messed with his ink black hair so there were strands falling over his forehead.
"What's next?" His question jarred her out of her longing.
