wounded beyond belief.
She’d thought she was over it, but then the Harkins Construction sign had popped up next door. The developer’s long-range plan to demolish this entire block that included her grandmother’s house was bad enough, but having Jess be a part of it added insult to injury. She wondered if he even remembered that her grandparents had owned this house.
She might not have told him. They’d been too busy making out in his old Ford Galaxie to talk about family history. She remembered feeling in control of her life again, recovered from the blows of losing her grandmother and the house she’d loved. She’d been sure she could make it all happen—become a disc jockey just like her grandfather, stay in Tucson where her friends were and lose her virginity to Jess on prom night.
But Jess, her first love, the boy she’d counted on to be crazy about her in the same way her grandfather had been crazy about her grandmother, had declined to cooperate with that last part. Once again she’d experienced that horrible loss of control over something important to her. She never wanted to feel that vulnerable again.
“I can see why you don’t want anybody knowing he used to be your boyfriend,” Ava said. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep quiet.”
“I appreciate that more than I can say.”
“No problemo.”
“Thanks.” Katie had no choice but to trust Ava with the volatile information. At least they hadn’t gotten into the nitty-gritty of her sexual history with Jess—or rather, her lack of a sexual history. “Well, I’m outta here. See you at six tomorrow at Jose’s. You know where it is, right?”
“Of course.”
“Maybe we can sit outside on the patio.”
“If I get there first, I’ll snag a table for us.” Ava sounded overjoyed to be included, so maybe she would resist the urge to gossip.
“Sounds good.” Katie headed for the door, an antique that had been hand-carved in Mexico. Her grandfather had hauled it back from Nogales in the back of his pickup, along with several carved interior doors, as a special present for her grandmother. He was always doing things like that to show how much he loved her. And she’d been the same—baking his favorite desserts and haunting garage sales to find the old LPs he collected. They’d had something special going on.
Before Katie could reach for the knob, it turned with a soft click. A thrill of premonition ran down her spine as the door opened. A second later she was looking into a pair of angry brown eyes that brought a jolt of recognition. Her heart raced exactly as it used to back in high school.
Jess Harkins had caught tonight’s show.
2
JESS HADN’T SEEN KATIE in the flesh in years…thirteen, to be exact. But he’d passed her picture hundreds of times while driving around town. A giant version of her gazed down from at least three billboards that he knew of. He’d had a few wet dreams involving Billboard Katie, and he probably wasn’t the only guy.
Billboard Katie reclined on a red velvet couch while wearing tight black pants and a black blouse with a plunging neckline. Her blond hair hung from a center part and framed her face, which wore an expression that promised incredible sex. If she’d looked at him like that on prom night, he wouldn’t have been able to resist her, but at eighteen she hadn’t had the sophistication to pull it off.
Real-life Katie wore a sedate gray pantsuit and her hair in some girly arrangement on top of her head. There wasn’t a hint of sexiness in her expression. Alarm would be more like it. Good. She should be alarmed.
A few minutes ago she’d sounded so carefree that he’d almost lost the urge to create a potentially ugly scene. A window at the front of the building had been left open, and as he’d approached, he’d recognized Katie’s voice as she’d made plans to go out for margaritas tomorrow night.
Then his name had come up and the volume of the conversation had dropped considerably. Knowing she was discussing him with the receptionist had riled him up all over again.
But now that the moment was at hand, finding the right words was more difficult than he’d expected. He should have anticipated that. Making speeches had never been his long suit. Katie, on the other hand, had always been extremely verbal—she’d been senior class president and captain of the debate team.
But now the opening sentence had to be his. “We—” He stopped to clear his throat, irritated with himself for having to do that. “We need to talk.”
“So talk,” said a spiky-haired woman sitting behind the receptionist’s desk. “Don’t mind me.”
Jess had completely forgotten someone else was there until she’d spoken. Apparently Katie still affected him to the point that he blocked out everything but her. That was an unwelcome discovery. He wanted to keep the upper hand in this interaction, and going gaga over Katie wouldn’t help.
Katie glanced at the receptionist. “Ava, this is Jess Harkins, an old friend from high school. Jess, this is Ava Dinsmore, our intern from Pima College.”
“Nice meeting you,” Jess said.
“Same here.” Ava studied him with interest.
“I think I left some files in the conference room,” Katie said to Ava. “Would you check and see if they’re there?”
“I’d be glad to, but I’d better watch the phones. We always get a bunch of calls for Jared’s show on Friday nights.”
“Good point. Then I’ll go check. Jess, why don’t you come on back with me so we can discuss this on the way?”
“It won’t take long.” Jess looked into Katie’s eyes and was rocketed back thirteen years.
She’d been his first love, and he’d had so little to give her back then. He and his mom had moved their meager belongings from Globe to Tucson his senior year in high school. He’d been the new kid, the one with no money and big dreams, a quiet guy who’d been fascinated with Katie’s gift of gab and her blond good looks. He’d envied her sense of belonging.
When she’d taken an interest in him, he’d been thrilled. They’d been a good combo because she’d done enough talking for both of them. To compensate for not saying much, he’d written her poems.
One he happened to remember now had compared her eyes to every blue thing he could think of, including his favorite stonewashed denims. God, he’d been pathetic. And a lousy poet. But her eyes still had the power to make him lose his train of thought.
“Just come with me,” she said. “I need to take those files home tonight and we can talk on the way, kill two birds with one stone.”
“That’s not necessary. I just—”
“I think it is.” She turned and started toward a hallway.
He wasn’t about to deliver his ultimatum to her back, so he had no choice but to follow her like an obedient lapdog. This was not going the way he’d scripted it in his head. He was forced to pass the receptionist, who took no pains to disguise her curiosity.
“I think she still likes you,” Ava said
