Chapter 4
JODIE
Holy shitballs. Kieren is working here.
The man who’s been haunting my dreams, the man I never thought I’d see again is actually here in the same building as me.
In the long eighteen months since we met, I’ve imagined this moment many times. And in every scenario, I was cool as a cucumber and looking fabulous. I imagined thanking him for his service and then saying something smart and witty and dismissive before turning away.
In no scenario was I on my first cleaning job, looking like a hot mess from Layla keeping me up all night, and pushing a cleaning trolly.
My pulse is racing like it’s in the Kentucky Derby as I push my cleaning trolly into the kitchen. Gripping the sides of the counter, I try to get my weak knees under control.
Damn that man. He looks as good as I remember. My body is heated all over, and there’s a dampness pooling in my panties.
Grabbing a glass, I run a cool drink of water and gulp it down. But it does nothing to quench the heat between my legs.
“Jodie.”
Kieren’s deep rumbling voice from the kitchen door makes my body tremble, and my knees almost give in.
With a deep breath, I turn around slowly, hoping he can’t see the effect he’s having on me.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he says.
On closer inspection, Kieren looks rough. The thick hair I remember running my hands through is shaggy and peppered with silver. There’re dark circles under his eyes, and he stinks like a brewery.
He’s obviously still spending his nights drinking in bars and picking up women.
A prickle of disappointment starts at the base of my spine. I swallow it down, annoyed with myself.
What did I expect from a guy who I met in a bar?
I shrug my shoulders and hold my arms out.
“Here I am.”
Kieren stares at me, his eyes unashamedly roving over my body, drinking me in. He looks as thirsty as a man lost in the desert.
“You left without leaving a note.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s referring to the last morning of our hookup.
We spent an amazing weekend together, and on the final night, we slept together. It was my first time—my only time—though Kieren doesn’t know that.
How could I tell a guy who picks women up at a bar that it meant so much more to me than the casual fling we agreed on? I got scared of my feelings for a man who was so obviously a player, so I left before he could leave me, leaving a scribbled note and no phone number.
But I can’t tell him any of this.
I just shrug again. “It was a fling, Kieren. I barely remember it.”
Oh god, I’m such a bad liar, but I keep my gaze steady and am satisfied to see his expression falter.
“It wasn’t just a fling for me.” He takes a step closer, and I back away from his intensity until my butt hits the counter. His look is so sincere that I almost believe him. But isn’t that what players say when they want another hookup?
“I was deployed the day after you left. There was no way to reach you. You didn’t leave a number.”
It’s true. I remember how powerful it felt to be the one to leave first, to walk out of his room while he was still asleep without leaving any way for him to contact me.
I regretted that bitterly a few weeks later.
“It was a long tour and my last one. I got back nine months ago and I’ve been looking for you ever since.”
He takes my hands in his, and a jolt of warmth skips through my veins.
“You’re all I’ve thought about. This is our chance, Jodie.”
I try to look away, but I’m mesmerized by his intense gaze and the things he’s saying and the way he’s grasping my hands like his life depends on it.
I feel dizzy, and I’m not sure which way my heart is facing anymore. Every word Kieren says is what I dreamed he’d say to me, what I longed to hear during those long, lonely months when I found out Layla was on the way.
I went searching for Kieren. I tried to find him to tell him about the baby growing inside me. But his apartment was locked up, and no one answered the door any of the dozens of times I knocked.
His neighbors looked me up and down like I was trash asking about him.
I assume he must have all sorts of discarded woman come looking for him.
One neighbor took pity on me and told me Kieren had been deployed but no one knew where.
I contacted the local Army base, but they wouldn’t give me any information.
My anger grew inside me alongside my baby. I felt discarded. I felt like a fool. I knew it was just a hookup, but I still imagined Kieren turning up and telling me something different.
There were long, lonely nights when I cried, hugging my growing belly, imagining Kieren turning up and telling me everything was going to be okay.
But he never did.
I had my baby. I learned to get by on my own. I learned that men really are only after one thing, that you can’t rely on them, and the only person you can rely on is yourself. And my sister.
I snatch my hands away from Kieren and force my voice into something light.
“It was a fling, Kieren, just a fun weekend. Thank you for that.”
Hurt crosses his face. I guess I just shot down his hopes for another hookup.
Before I can lose my resolve, I push my cleaning cart out of the kitchen. I have a daughter to think about now, and I will not fall for the charms of an older ex-military hero again.