Winning Back His Wife (Camp Firefly Falls Book 1) by Gwen Hayes, Zoe York Read Free Book Online Page B

happened to be cute. A breeze picked up, blowing her bangs out of her face, and she saw him.
    He was surrounded by his buddies, but his eyes were glued to her. Total prep. Not her type. Not even a little, but he was probably cute. Too far away to really tell.
    As soon as she thought the words, he was moving toward her. His friends tried to get his attention, but he ignored them like she had some sort of magnet drawing him closer. One called out, “Michael? Dude, where are you going?”
    It was too late to re-gloss, so she licked her lips and hoped for the best. Now would be a really handy time to have a girlfriend with her. She’d never had to do a cold-call on her own before. But this was college, not high school, and she was a woman now.
    Sort of.
    “Heather? Is it really you?”
    He knew her? Did she know him? His friend had called him Michael. She blinked hard and tried to place this gorgeous too well put-together guy with a memory. Any memory.
    Lightbulb.
    “Michael? Michael from camp?”
    Wow, when he smiled at her, flashing a dimple, she was fourteen again. Feeling the butterflies first and then the agonizing ache when he hadn’t come back the next year.
    “Do you go here?” he asked. “Of course you do. Dumb question. Why else would you be on the Green today?” He stepped back. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
    She pushed the hurt down. They’d been kids. He’d had no idea that she’d pinned so many of her romantic dreams on the summer that he hadn’t come back for.
    “Yeah. Weird right?” He looked so grown up. But why wouldn’t he?
    “You look…” Michael let his gaze wander down her legs and back up. “Really great. Wait, that sounded bad, didn’t it? Like I’m commenting on your body because your skirt is so short. I mean, it’s not too short. I’m not trying to say anything derogatory about what you’re wearing. It’s just different than how I remember you. You know. From when we were kids.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. Which sort of looked freshly pressed. “And your boots look like you mean business. I should shut up.”
    “Probably.” She looked down at her Docs and laughed. “You look different, too.”
    “You could at least try to say something embarrassing so that I’m not the only one with my foot in my mouth.” He grinned at her. His jaw was so square now. And his cheekbones could slice a roast. She'd say either of those things if she could speak at all, but her mouth was suddenly dry and her heart was beating too hard in her chest to allow words to form.
    She remembered that first kiss. How sweet he’d been. How after she finally got over the heartache of losing him forever, she’d been glad that her first kiss had been so special. She had probably given him a piece of her heart that day. She’d probably never get it back.
    She swallowed hard. He had no idea how big her teenage feelings had been. It would be best to keep it that way. “I have to admit, it’s kind of nice to know guys like you can get flustered.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “Guys like me?”
    His clothes, the faint scent of his cologne, the way he carried himself, and the pack of friends he’d separated himself from told her he ran with the popular, rich kids. The jocks. The ones who didn’t date the theater girls. Which was fine with her because she’d honestly never had much to say about football or whatever it was they talked about.
    She changed the subject. “You never came back to camp.”
    His eyes flashed with something. Longing? Sadness. “Yeah, my parents…they had other plans for me.”
    The awkward silence became, well, awkward. “I think your friends are waiting for you,” she offered by means of a way out for him.
    He didn't even look back at them. He was too busy looking at her. “Were you?”
    “Was I what?”
    Another smile, this one softer. One corner of his mouth tipped up higher than the other. “Waiting for me.”
    His words hit a soft spot in her heart