businessman. He wasn’t a politician. Why in the hell hadn’t he kicked Chuck out of his office when he’d first approached him with the idea?
“You’ll make a hell of a senator,” he’d said. “You can change the world.”
Lauder scoffed, remembering his friend’s words. Change the world. All he wanted to do was change North Carolina. Tackle homelessness, poverty, foster care. Definitely foster care. A severely damaged system, in his opinion. That alone still made this journey so worthwhile.
“When did this crusade to polish my image become an agenda? My wifeless, kidless image hasn’t been a problem before,” Lauder said.
“Before Edmondson started parading his trophy wife and his perfect little renditions of himself all around town in their color-coordinated outfits, smiling and waving like they’re on a parade float.” Chuck grimaced, then started again, “This is the south, L. The perfect family allusion works on multiple levels. You do want to win, right?”
“Yeah, but you want me to lie to get what I want.”
“You say it like it’s a new concept. Politicians have been lying since the beginning of time.”
“But I’m—”
“Not a politician,” Chuck said, continuing Lauder’s thought.
“Exactly. And that’s not how I want to build my campaign. Not on lies.”
Chuck rested his hands on his hips, lowered his head and sighed. “What do you want to do, L? You want to drop out of the race? Concede to Edmondson before there’s even been an election? Bow down to the same cocky bastard who said you didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell against him?”
Hearing Edmondson’s words hurled at him caused his jaw to clench now, just as it had when the self-entitled jerk had first spewed them to a room full of reporters.
Chuck leaned against Lauder’s desk and eyed him. “Tell me what you want to do, L? I’ll support whatever decision you make.”
Lauder stood with urgency. “I want to get a drink.” A second later, he ambled to the door.
“You don’t drink,” Chuck said.
“I’m about to start. That’s what politicians do, right?”
Several minutes later, Lauder stood in line inside the Drip Drop Coffee Shop, eyeing the board as if today would be the day he strayed from his usual order—iced cinnamon caramel macchiato. A creature of habit.
He slid his gaze from the board and skimmed his surroundings, snatching his eyes back to a table situated in a dimly lit section of the restaurant. Couldn’t be. His eyes narrowed on the brown-skinned woman beaming at something on her tablet screen.
A flash of light from the device highlighted her features and that scar. The one above her right eye. The one he’d given her so many years ago when he’d been attempting to hit a tree, but had dinged her instead. Every cell in his body fired all at once, sending a longing through him he hadn’t felt in years. Close to twenty to be exact, because that was how long it had been since he’d seen her. Willow Dawson. The only woman who’d ever claimed a piece of his heart.
* * *
Willow could feel the presence of evil before her eyes rose to face it. Without the man in front of her uttering a single word, she instantly recognized him. Lauder Tolson. Candidate for a North Carolina senate seat and her childhood nemesis.
Something fluttered in her stomach when she inhaled a whiff of his cologne. Ignoring the violation, she gave him a quick perusal, one that revealed a lot of change. This was not the gangly, pimple-faced boy she remembered. This was a full-grown man. Easily six-four and as solid as a brick wall—an extremely sturdy, wide-shouldered brick wall—with dark, daunting eyes that bore into her.
An unexplainable heat circled her neck, rose to her ears and settled in her cheeks.
“Weeping Willow.”
His smooth, deep timbre caused her skin to prickle. She prayed he hadn’t noticed. When his full lips curled into a lopsided smile, she almost forgot he’d broken her heart when they were younger.
Fighting the urge to show her teeth and growl, she said, “I hated that name then, and I hate it even more now.” Not only because it was mocking, especially coming from Lauder, but because it reminded her of a past she wanted to forget.
Lauder rested his hand on the back of the chair directly across from her. “May I?”
“I’d prefer you—” she stopped when Lauder eased down, blatantly ignoring her impending objection “—didn’t.” She sighed, pushed her tablet aside and leveled an emotionless, hard stare at him.
Her first mistake.
Despite whatever lingering distaste she held for the man, she couldn’t deny how good-looking he was. Even more attractive in person than on television, attempting to convince everyone that he was the right candidate to represent them. He’d definitely grown into a fine...very fine man. She wasn’t sure which was smoother, the molten chocolate latte she sipped on or Lauder’s deep chocolate skin. Neither was good for her, she reminded herself.
No, this was not the man—boy—she remembered.
“It’s been a long time,” he said, taking a sip from his cup.
Willow ignored how his full lips wrapped around the plastic lid. Unscrambling her lust-laden brain, she said, “Some would say not long enough.”
Lauder chuckled and smoothed a hand over his stubble. She noticed the absence of a wedding ring. But she already knew he was a bachelor, never married and no kids from the interviews she read online. The Lauder she’d once known had been an asshole. Lauder the politician held her attention. Especially when he talked about the big plans he had for the foster care system in North Carolina.
“Come on, Willow. It’s been close to twenty years. Are you still holding a grudge?”
Was he serious? After what he’d done to her? Did he think that even after all of this time she could forgive him? Tamping down the fury rising inside her, she flashed a broad smile. “A grudge? Of course not. How could I possibly resent the man who made my life a living hell?”
Which wasn’t all true. At one time, he’d made her happier than she’d ever been in her life. He’d made her feel wanted, which had meant so much to her since she’d grown up in foster care feeling unwanted all of her life. Then he’d shattered her heart.
Lauder’s expression turned sad. “People change. I’ve changed.”
“Really? Well, I wouldn’t know because you—” She stopped abruptly before revealing too much. What did it matter after all this time anyway? The past was the past, and she preferred to leave it right where it was.
“You should get to know me, Willow. I promise you’ll like this new and improved, much more mature version.”
Get to know... Ha! Was he serious? He couldn’t actually be suggesting they spend time together, could he? Beyond the five minutes she’d already endured? She studied the no-nonsense expression
