Meant to Be: Southern Heat Series (2 page)

BOOK: Meant to Be: Southern Heat Series
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Chapter Two

M
itch sat
outside Lexie’s home, struggling to put on his game face. When he’d finally pushed away the shock and pain of seeing Sydney again, the longing had returned, and the last thing he needed was to want Sydney again.

Over the years, he’d done everything he could to forget her. But the attempts to distract himself through work or women were unsuccessful. The bitterness always remained, and it didn’t take a shrink to recognize that it kept him from forming any real attachments to women. Although a few had tried to change his mind, Sydney’s lesson was too ingrained.

So were the memories of her. Jesus, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her honey-blond hair, so thick and golden, just thinking about it made his fingers itch to run through it. Her eyes were that amazing hazel color that changed depending on her mood. She was stronger than he’d recalled, too. The old Sydney would have shirked and retreated at his response. But her eyes had flared with heat, and she’d stood her ground. A shiver of excitement ran through him at the memory. He cursed his traitorous heart and libido. After a couple deep breaths, Mitch grabbed the bottle of wine and got out of his truck. At the front door, he knocked but didn’t wait for an answer.

“Hello?” He cracked open the door. “You two better be decent.”

“You bet we are.” Lexie made her way up the hall to greet him.

“No more kitchen games?” He grinned as he referred to the time he’d caught Lexie and Drake nearly naked on the table.

“Well, since you don’t wait for people to answer the door, no.”

“The solution is to lock the door.”

She gave him a hug and, even though she didn’t know the day he’d had, it helped to calm him.

“I’m finishing the fixings for burgers.”

“Burgers, huh? I brought wine. I guess I should’ve brought beer.” He followed her to the kitchen.

“Now sit and tell me what’s weighing on your mind.”

He studied her, wondering how she could tell. He supposed he wasn’t as collected as he thought. “Just the usual stuff.”

She handed him a cutting board, knife, and red onion. “Liar. You can take your negative energy out on this onion. Don’t chop. Make rings.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted.

“Spill.” She sounded a bit like their mom when she was determined to get them to talk, but since he valued his life, he didn’t mention the similarity to Lexie.

He sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“I don’t know why you always think you can keep your secrets. Eventually I’ll make you tell.” She studied him. “You look like you need a drink. I’ve got bourbon.”

Bourbon sounded perfect. He nodded.

“And then you tell me what happened.”

Setting the onion slices aside, he downed the two fingers of amber liquid she gave him and waited for it to burn away the bitter residue of his reunion with Sydney. Of course, it didn’t. He knew it wouldn’t. How many shots of bourbon, whiskey, or whatever else he could get his hands on had he tried to use to numb the pain over the years?

“I saw Sydney today.”

Her initial blank stare morphed into wide-eyed shock. “Sydney, as in former fiancée Sydney?”

He nodded, not surprised it took a moment for Lexie to remember her. He’d dated Sydney for four years in college, but she’d never met Lexie and only saw his parents a couple times during their visits to campus.

“Great day.” The southern expression of surprise and dismay whooshed out on a breath as she sank into a chair next to him. “Where?”

“Apparently she’s a new doctor at the hospital.”

“No! Here?”

“I saw her when Kevin was making his daily nookie visit to Jenny.”

“Why?”

“He says it’s because—”

“Not Kevin. Why is
she
here?”

He shrugged. “We didn’t get that far. Actually, I pretended not to know her.”

“That’s insulting.” But she said it like she was proud of him. “She call you on it?”

“Yes. And then Jenny asked if she knew the bitch who dumped me.”

Lexie snorted. “Did she?”

He nodded. “She said she knew her, but she didn’t admit how well. Jesus.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, craving another shot of bourbon but knowing he needed to keep his wits about him for a family meal. His parents, and he supposed Lexie too, thought he was overly cavalier with his life, especially with the ladies, and on occasion with the drink.

“Why is she here? Is it because of you? It has to be because why else—”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.”

“You’re not the least bit curious?”

“No.” Which wasn’t exactly true, but his curiosity ran more to how long she planned to stay.

“Curious about what?”

Mitch turned at the sound of his brother-in-law’s voice. “Drake, hi.” Mitch stood and shook Drake’s hand.

“Mitch.” Drake smiled. This happy, outgoing Drake was a stark contrast to the dark, broody man Mitch had met two years earlier. He’d seen the sparks of attraction between him and Lexie but wouldn’t have ever imagined his spunky, pixie-like sister and the tall, intense businessman from New York would make a life together. Then again, what did he know about love?

“How was work?” Lexie rose from her chair and gave Drake a hug.

Mitch both admired and envied the love between them. At one time, he’d thought he and Sydney had that kind of love. He’d been wrong.

“Same old, same old.” Drake kept an arm around Lexie. “I’ll need to go to New York next week.”

“Do you miss it?” Mitch couldn’t stop himself from asking. In many ways, Sydney and Drake were similar. Both came from rich, prominent families and big cities. But Drake had been willing to ditch it all to make a life in a little, rural Virginian town with Lexie. In the end, he was able to stay in the family business and work most of the time from home, with only occasional visits to New York. But would someone like Sydney be happy here?

“Only the pizza.” Drake grinned.

“Mitch had a hard day.” Lexie looked up at Drake. “He needs good news.”

Drake smiled down at her. “You don’t want to wait for your parents?”

“No. But.” She turned to Mitch. “You have to act surprised later.”

“Sure.”

Lexie grinned and, like always, it was infectious. “Drake and I are expecting.”

“Expecting what?” Mitch deadpanned.

“Ugh, you’re so dense sometimes, Mitch.”

He laughed as he pulled his pint-sized sister into his arms. “Congratulations.” Then releasing Lexie, he pulled Drake close for quick hug “Did it happen on the kitchen table?”

Drake’s cheeks reddened, but Lexie punched him. “You’re a pervert.”

“Hey, I’m not the one—”

“Don’t you want to know when the baby is due?” Lexie shook him.

“Yes.”

“In about six months. “

“That’s awesome. Uncle Mitch.” He tested the sound of it. “I think I like it.”

In the background, the door opened. “Hello?”

“That’s Mom and Dad. Mum’s the word.” Lexie was a small woman, but she wasn’t one to be crossed.

Mitch nodded. His life might be going to hell, but he’d live vicariously through Lexie and Drake’s happiness.

S
ydney made
her way into her apartment, one of four in a renovated Victorian home. She kicked the door shut and made her way toward the couch. She’d intended to plop down in an emotionally exhausted heap but, instead, detoured to the kitchen. Dealing with her day required wine. Copious amounts of it. She brought the whole bottle with her back to the couch along with an oversized wine glass. Taking a gulp, she sat back and tried to figure out what the hell she’d been thinking by moving to Charlotte Tavern.

“It’s not good to make any major decisions right after a traumatic event.” Her childhood friend Doctor Patrick Andres’s words came back to her. But it was that traumatic event that had her rethinking her life and her choices. She could have died after being attacked in the parking lot of her New York hospital. In the aftermath, all she could think about was Mitch and what might have been. He was the one regret in her life she couldn’t die without resolving.

When she learned about an opportunity for a sabbatical in Charlotte Tavern, Virginia, she took it as a sign that she needed to get her resolution. So she made the arrangements for leave, sublet her apartment, and moved to Virginia.

Overall, she liked the south. Southern hospitality wasn’t a myth. Everyone was friendly and accepting of her. Even when she went for her morning run, people she didn’t know smiled and waved. In New York, if she smiled and waved at strangers, they’d protect their wallets and run away.

The only thing she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do in the six weeks she’d been in town was see Mitch. She’d found his number and address in the phonebook the first day she moved in. Calling would have been easier, but she knew they needed to talk in person, if she had the guts to see him. She’d driven by his home so many times, she was afraid someone might report her as a stalker. Sydney wasn’t fearful of many things. Not anymore.

She’d spent a year as a doctor in a refugee camp in Jordan, where she witnessed the incredible courage and dedication of the Syrian women she worked with. It was hard to be timid about life in a place like the United States where she had a successful career and a support system after meeting people who purposefully left their homes with only the things they could carry to live in tents in a different country. Many who’d made the long trek on foot were pregnant women. They taught Sydney what it meant to be strong.

After the attack, her confidence wavered, but she was determined to not let it hinder her life. More than anything, she’d been afraid that Mitch wouldn’t respond well to seeing her. A fear that came true. Her stomach clenched at the memory of it. How he’d looked at her with such bitterness and then pretended not to know her.

Sydney finished her wine and poured another glass. Maybe Patrick was right. She should have thought through her decision more carefully. She could have arranged a visit instead of a move. She groaned at the stupidity of her impulsive decision. She was now stuck for another ten months in a town where people were nice, unless they didn’t like you. And from Jenny’s comment about Mitch’s “bitch ex,” Sydney was pretty sure she’d be ostracized when they learned she was that bitch.

She eyed the wine bottle, concerned there wouldn’t be enough, when her phone rang. Excitement and panic flared. Was he calling? She dug her phone from her purse.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Syd.” Julia Andres, her best friend and Patrick’s sister, greeted her. Sydney chastised herself for thinking it could be Mitch. How would he have even gotten her number?

“Oh, hey.”

“You alright?”

“Nothing time and wine won’t heal.” Sydney topped off her glass and leaned back, grateful for the haze from the wine and the call from her friend.

“I take it you finally saw him?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Sydney didn’t like reliving the scene in her mind. The idea of speaking it out loud was unbearable. Still, she needed a friend. “He pretended to not know me.”

“Ouch. That’s a jerk thing to do.”

“I think he was just taken off guard.” Why was she defending him? He had been kind of a jerk. Granted, she’d started it ten years ago, but still.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing, really. A nurse at the hospital was trying to set us up. He apparently has a reputation as a ladies’ man, but she’s happily married and wanted to play matchmaker.”

“Does she know about you and him?”

“She didn’t at the time. It won’t be long before she knows I’m the one that hurt him, at which point, I may be run out of town.”

“How much of that wine have you had? You’re not usually so melodramatic or defeatist.”

“Not enough.” She rubbed the spot over her heart that had never quite stopped hurting since she and Mitch split.

“I’d tell you to come home, but I know you’re not a quitter. So, how about I come see you?”

“Really?” Sydney prided herself on being a strong, independent woman, but right now the idea of a shoulder to cry on sounded perfect.

“Yeah, of course.”

“What about your job at the gallery?”

“You know I only do that to appease my parents. I haven’t gotten paid since the economy tanked. But my parents are happy knowing I have something to get out of bed for.”

Sydney laughed. They both grew up in affluent New York families, but while Sydney had always been driven, Julia would have been better off living in the 19th century, where her skills as a pretty, rich hostess would have served her better. Patrick was more like Sydney, determined to accomplish things in the world. He’d completed two doctorates and now worked as a forensic psychiatrist.

Growing up they’d been inseparable. Their parents called them the three musketeers, which, as an only child, Sydney loved. As children, they’d decided that Patrick and Sydney would get married so the three of them would always be together. Sydney and Patrick had gone so far as to date in high school and his first years in college. But Sydney left that fantasy behind the day she met Mitch McKenna her freshman year at Princeton.

Since graduating from college and ending things with Mitch, the three musketeers were back together. At one point, Patrick attempted to re-establish their romantic connection, but Sydney hadn’t returned the sentiment. Thankfully, he seemed to have moved on.

BOOK: Meant to Be: Southern Heat Series
8.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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