Hooked

wasn’t ready for this, for him, for any man. Her anxiety exploded
    Shoving his arm aside, she bolted halfway across the kitchen.
    In the space of the next heartbeat she felt relieved, embarrassed, and appalled at her behavior. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, wishing she could just disappear. When she opened them she was still there, still behaving like a moron. What was she so scared of? She was a grown woman, a corporate CEO, a cancer survivor . She had faced down far worse things than a little disappointment in an old flame’s eyes. Still, as she snatched up an empty mug, her hands were trembling. Taking a deep breath, she turned back and found him staring at her.
    “Steph,” he began, his voice low and soft with concern.
    “The coffee only takes a minute.” The strain in her voice was evident even to her own ears. “I love this coffeemaker. I wasn’t sure about the plastic K-cups at first—that environmental thing.” Silence hung heavy for a few breaths as his gaze searched her. Oh, God, please don’t let him see … There was a quiver in her voice as she finally admitted the truth.
    “I can’t— I don’t want to move too fast.”
    She held her breath, terrified of the censure she would see in his eyes if she looked up. After a long moment, he moved toward her and she braced herself, only to have him stop by her shoulder.
    “I believe I’ll skip the coffee tonight. It’s been a tough week. I think we could both use some rest.” Before she could shrink back, he dipped his head and planted a quick kiss on her temple.
    Frozen in place, she followed his exit by the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall. He paused to say something to Mickey, and the next thing she heard was the door closing. She dragged out a counter stool and sank on it in a heap.
    She’d really done it this time. No matter how hungry a man was for companionship, he would never hang around a woman who was freaked out by a little physical contact. The sad thing was, she’d just discovered that she still wanted that contact, needed it. Her sexuality was something she’d been reluctant to acknowledge, much less explore, since her operations. She closed her eyes and let the memory of their kiss flood her senses and filter through her emotions. There was bittersweet joy in finding that she could still feel like a woman in that way.
    “Like the song says,” she said to Mickey as he padded into the kitchen and jumped up to put his paws and head into her lap for a scratching, “‘I’m a genie in a bottle.’ And Finn Hartley just rubbed me the right way.”
    * * *
    Finn was driving too fast on I-75, white-knuckling the steering wheel, going over and over what had just happened with Stephanie. How could he have so totally misread her? She’d been a little cool at first, but after that bit with the dog hair she’d seemed to relax, and was downright fun during dinner and afterward. It wasn’t his imagination that she enjoyed kissing him every bit as much as he did her; he’d stake his life on it. Her smiles, her softening eyes, the incidental touches that conveyed affection…they all added up to a genuine feeling. She did care for him. He hadn’t misread her, damn it.
    The sight of red and blue flashing lights on the shoulder ahead brought him back to the present, and he took his foot off the gas to slow down as he passed the traffic stop. That break in his thinking soon allowed him to approach the situation more clearly from another angle. She’d talked about her dog and her company, her sisters and their broods…avoiding all talk of her social life. Was that because she didn’t have one, as she’d said? Or was there something more? What caused that vulnerable look she wore when she thought no one was watching? What had happened to her?
    He was going to find out. He had plenty of flaws, God knew, but he was nobody’s fool when it came to fishing. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t going to let it keep him from a second chance with the one who got away.

Chapter Seven
    Sunday morning found Steph in her sister Beth’s big country kitchen, turning pancakes as all seven of her nieces and nephews and their four parents groaned with pleasure and professed undying love for her. When the kids were suitably stuffed and pushed out into the backyard, and the husbands were shuffled out to the garage for a look at Griff’s new lawn mower, Laurie and Beth cornered her with their arms crossed.
    “So you have a hot date