“No, this is great,” Bree said with a smile. “I like it here. Cozy but fun. It’s not a dive, but not fancy. Perfect.” She pulled off her hat and unbuttoned her heavy coat.
Sighing, Cassandra pulled off her hat and her black leather gloves and shoved them into the pockets of her forest-green wool coat. Bree was already subtly shoving her way through people to get to a visible spot at the bar. Cassandra unbuttoned her coat and followed her friend. There were two bartenders working—one at the far end, and one close enough to be in earshot of Bree, his back turned as he fixed a drink.
Just as Cassandra got through to stand at Bree’s side, the taller bartender turned around. Her heart stopped in her chest, then dropped to her stomach. It was Sean. Sean McKinnon, whom she hadn’t seen or been in contact with in over seven years, standing mere inches away. The man she once thought she’d marry… before he left her and broke her heart. Left her broken.
She could barely breathe. It was like the air in the room had dried up and vanished.
Drink in his hand, he froze where he stood. His deep blue eyes went wide and locked on her. Shock openly washed over his handsome face as it paled.
Bree was the one who spoke; the only one apparently capable of speech. “Oh. My. God.”
Cassandra’s heart took off with a gallop and her blood roared in her ears. She didn’t know what to say or what to do. Sean McKinnon was standing in front of her. They were separated only by the bar. It was unfathomable. Her mind went blank.
He broke the gaze first, setting the drink in his hand down for the man to Cassandra’s left. He placed both hands on the bar, as if to brace himself, and looked from her to Bree and back to her again before saying, “It’s really you.”
“I thought you lived in Los Angeles,” she choked out.
“I moved back two years ago,” he said. The familiar smooth tone of his voice, the cadence, the lyrical way his Irish brogue made his words sound like music, all pierced her heart.
They stared at each other in open astonishment before he said, “God, Cassie, I can’t believe this. I mean… what are the odds? New York’s a big city.” He gave a wistful grin. “It’s good to see you.”
Something bubbled inside her chest and her throat closed up. Oh, how she’d loved him. And oh, how he’d hurt her in the end. A torrent of emotions whooshed through her in crashing waves: anger, shock, indignation… and longing, tinged with plain old lust. He was so gorgeous. Maybe more so. Sexier than ever, that jerk.
“You look wonderful,” he said quietly. The corner of his mouth curved up in the lopsided grin that used to make her melt. It made her knees weak now, too. “Ya cut your hair. And it’s so straight.”
Unconsciously, her hand flew up to touch her hair. Back in college, when they’d been a couple, her wavy hair had flowed almost to her waist. Now, as an almost-thirty-year-old English professor, she’d made sure she looked the part: she’d had her waves straightened chemically, and cut it to rest on her shoulders. “Yeah. I cut it. A while ago. You did too.”
He grinned again. “Aye, no more pony tails.” His hair was still shaggy, but only reached his jawline now and no longer went past his shoulders. It was a little darker as well. Back then, she’d thought of his hair as being dirty blond, but now it was more like a golden brown. She remembered how his hair would lighten in the summer, the strands bleaching to a shimmering gold. A flash of running her fingers through it as he kissed her went through her mind… she felt her stomach do a slow flip and looked away, hoping her cheeks weren’t flaming like her insides suddenly were.
His blue, blue eyes flickered to Bree. “Still friends, eh? That’s nice. Hello, Bree.”
“Hi.” She glanced at Cassandra, then back to him. “Wow. Um… so. You work here?”
“I work here, and I own half the place.” His gaze stayed glued to his ex-girlfriend’s face.
“You don’t play guitar anymore?” Cassandra said in surprise.
“Oh, I play gigs. I even play here once or twice a week. But I needed something more solid, as well. Remember my best friend, Jimmy O’Reilly?”
“Of course I do.” Cassandra recalled the blond instantly. He and Sean had been like brothers growing up together back in Ireland. Jimmy had moved to New York first, at nineteen, with Sean following less than a year later. They’d even shared an apartment together down in the Village. Jimmy was laughter and good times, whereas Sean was intense and thoughtful. She’d spent a good amount of time with Sean’s best friend. “How is he?”
“He’s good. When I came back to New York two years ago, we partnered. This bar—he owns half, I own half. We’re in it together.” He couldn’t take his eyes from Cassandra, even when the guy on Bree’s right asked for a beer. It was like he was in a trance. It unnerved her.
She swallowed hard and said, “Well then, we should let you should go back to work.”
“Will you stay a while?” he blurted. “I… it’d be nice to talk to you.” His marine blue eyes captured hers and held. “It’s been a long time. I’d love to catch up. Please, Cassie.”
She and Bree exchanged a quick glance. “Up to you,” Bree murmured.
What am I, crazy? I should walk away right now, Cassandra thought. The same way he walked away from me when I begged him not to. But the look in his eyes was so earnest, so raw and open… he was obviously glad to see her and didn’t want her to leave. His twinkling blues were practically pleading with her.
And who was she kidding? She wanted to talk to him, to sit and stare at him, try to wrap her head around this incredible chance meeting. How many times had she wondered where he’d ended up, what he was doing? How many times had she wondered what he looked like now? She wanted to sit and memorize every feature.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “I guess. I mean, we’ll be here for a little while.”
“Fantastic,” he breathed, grinning brightly. “Ehm… so, what are you two drinking? It’s on me.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Bree said.
“Sure he can,” Cassandra said, the slightest edge to her tone. “It’s the least he can do.”
Sean met her eyes, and the grin faded. “It is.”
“Sam Adams for me, then,” Bree said. “Thanks.”
“And you, love?” Sean asked Cassandra.
She gasped softly, taken off guard by his casual use of his old endearment for her. Cassielove, he’d call her, making it one word. Or just Love… all the time. Always.
He realized it immediately and paled a bit. “Sorry, Cassie. It just slipped out…”
“It’s okay,” she said quietly. Remembering, she added, “I’ll have the black stuff.”
The sexy grin returned and his eyes sparkled. “Ah, that’s a good girl.” He turned away to get their drinks.
Bree grasped Cassandra’s arm. “Holy crap. Are you okay?”
“No,” Cassandra said. Aftershock was setting in. Waves of disbelief made her insides wobble and her legs tremble. “I’m in shock. I can’t think straight.”
“We can leave right now,” Bree said. “Oh God, you’re shaking.”
Cassandra hadn’t realized she was until Bree said so. A deeper tremor rocked her body.
Bree squeezed her friend’s arms and rubbed them, meant to soothe. “You want to take off, we’re outta here. Seriously, Cass. Whatever you want to do, we do it.”
“I don’t know what I want. I… I just can’t believe it,” Cassandra breathed. She stared back at her friend. “I mean, like he said, what are the odds? New York is how big? This is insane.” She glanced at Sean, halfway down the bar at the tap, pulling a pint of Guinness. Sean McKinnon, right there in front of her, mere feet away. Unbelievable.
Find out what happens next in All I Want for Christmas
Buy now!
The Summer in New York Series
If you enjoyed His Love, you’ll love the other Summer in New York stories!
His Touch by Patty Blount
His Kiss by Jolyse Barnett
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br /> His Love by Jennifer Gracen
About the Author
Jennifer Gracen hails from Long Island, New York, where she lives with her two sons. After spending her youth writing in private and singing in public, she now only sings in her car and is immersed in her passion for writing. She loves to write contemporary romance for readers who look for authentic characters and satisfying endings. When she isn’t with her kids, doing freelance proofreading, or chatting on Twitter and Facebook, Jennifer writes. She’s already hard at work on her next book. Jennifer is a member of the Romance Writers of America and is active in the Long Island Romance Writers, as well as being a member of CTRWA.
More from Jennifer:
Visit her website at JenniferGracen.com
Follow her on Facebook and Twitter@jennifergracen
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