the abandon of the lips moving over hers, the heat rising up between them. But everything else seemed part of the newness of him—the way his height sent her head back, the buttons of his suit pressing against her abdomen, the boldness of his fingers along her back, sparking flames in her.
These filled her senses, and she became lost in them.
Wait. What was she doing?
Startling her again, he pulled away.
“That’s the way it always was for us,” he said, letting her go and stepping back.
Regina felt like she’d been caught in a lie, one he’d forced her to tell, and her anger sprang back to life. How could she let herself get caught in the moment? And how dare he put his hands on her after he had disappeared—ditching her, ditching them, ditching everything?
No way was it going to go down like that.
She stepped up to him, poking her finger against his chest and raising her head for the attack. But she didn’t know what to say. Her head had not cleared; she hadn’t been able to remember her logical arguments about why what had just happened didn’t change anything.
Little footsteps clacked toward the front, and both of them stopped in their tracks.
Tenisha appeared, smocked in the jumbo trash bag that Regina had tied at her neck and around her waist. And thank goodness. The bag was covered from top to bottom with splotches of paint, swipes from the brushes and handprints of various sizes.
Tenisha hesitated when she saw a man there.
“Come, sweetie. What is it?” Regina coaxed, giving her full attention to the child and relieved to have a moment to collect her thoughts.
Nigel stepped back around the counter, his eyes fixed on the little girl.
Behind Tenisha trailed a path of paint that was dripping from the ceramic bisque platter she was carrying. It was shaped like a butterfly, its various quadrants plastered with pastel shades of glaze.
“I’m finished with mine. Kyle is still working on his.”
“Did you get the bottom, honey?”
“Yup. Look.”
She turned it over for Regina to inspect, all the while smudging little fingerprints of paint from one color to another.
Regina took her back to the table in the classroom.
“Let’s just set it here to dry for a few minutes before we add a topcoat.” She turned to the little boy, still vigorously applying paint to the baseball-shaped bisque platter he was working on. “How is yours going, little one?”
“Uh-huh.”
Regina could see that Kyle was fully engrossed, and so she turned back to Tenisha.
“Once we add the topcoat, we can put these in the kiln and head upstairs to have something to eat. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“You sit here and keep Kyle company while he finishes his. Is that okay?”
“Okay.”
Regina turned and walked back to the register. Nigel had popped up thinking...whatever he was thinking, but it wasn’t going to work on her.
“I’ve had enough, Nigel. There is no us, and there will be no us.”
When the corners of his lips twisted into a smirk, Regina’s temper stirred again, and she seethed. She’d wanted to be calm, but he wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Get out. Get out, and don’t come back here.”
“Reggie, I—”
“No. Get out.”
When the chime at the door sounded, neither one looked over.
“Get out,” she said again.
Neither moved.
“Hey, hey. Is anything wrong here?”
Regina knew Jason’s voice immediately and was relieved when he came over to stand next to her. He was over six feet four inches, and he worked out religiously. It was clear to all three that Nigel, despite his new height and weight, couldn’t take Jason even if he tried. There was nothing left for him to do but withdraw.
Only he wasn’t going to back down easily. He held his ground and gave a brief nod to the other man, as if sizing up his competition. Yes, he must be a formidable adversary in the business world.
“Nothing’s wrong. This man is just leaving,” said Regina.
Nigel didn’t move right away, and when he did, it wasn’t in the direction of the door. He casually searched one of his inner coat pockets and took out a silver case—a business-card holder.
“You asked if I have a card.”
He took out one of the cards and stepped up to the register, handing it in her direction.
When Regina didn’t move to take the card, he laid it on the counter. She glared at it as if it had leprosy and then glared at Nigel.
“I’ll get that item out to you as soon as possible,” she said in a professional tone, stifling her hostility.
Nigel bent his upper body toward her.
“This isn’t over, Reggie.”
She picked up the business card and put it in the pocket of her jeans.
“It will be soon enough.”
* * *
Regina watched as Nigel slowly walked out of the studio. She was completely shaken.
Jason, holding Kyle on his hip, sat down at the workstation in the back of the shop.
“You need to talk?”
“No. Yes.”
Regina walked over to the table, glancing in on Tenisha before sitting down. Tenisha was blowing on her plate to get it to dry, and Kyle squirmed down to go get his piece.
“It can wait until tomorrow.”
“I got time now.”
“No. Really. It will be better said tomorrow.”
Kyle returned with his baseball platter. “I made this for you, Daddy.”
“I can see that you did.”
Jason smiled down at his son and took the plate from him before lifting him back onto his lap.
“Here,” said Regina. “Let me have the platter so that I can topcoat it and get it in the kiln.”
“But I made it
