AN EXCERPT OF HARD LOVE
Water continued to bounce off the city streets as a sea of umbrellas flanked the outside of the doors. I popped mine open just in time to see a cab stop in front of the mystery woman. She opened the door, and as she moved to get in, some jackass in a trenchcoat slipped inside and closed the door. What a douchebag.
She yelled something in what sounded like French, her middle finger thrust high in the air, followed up with, “Asshole!” I couldn’t help but laugh. When she turned to look at me, droplets of water ran down her face, taking some of her eye makeup with them. Even with black smudges, she was beautiful . . . and very familiar.
“Margo?” Her eyes narrowed for a minute as she studied me. “Margo Perry?”
Her perfectly shaped lips fell open. “Noah?” When I nodded, her lips curved up in the prettiest way, and in an instant, I pictured not only kissing them, but doing other things to them as well. The last time I saw her, she was barely an adult, now she was all woman. I couldn’t help but pull her in for a hug. God, she felt good. Her soft breasts, pushed up against my chest, were the best greeting ever.
“Come on.” I placed my hand on the small of her back, making sure I kept the umbrella over her head. “I have a car here.”
Arthur opened the door for us and I slid in right behind Margo. She was spectacular. No trace of the awkwardly cute, gawking teenager remained. Nope. Margo was stunning, and now I was the one gawking.
“Thank you so much for the ride. This weather sucks and that guy was a dick.” Her face flushed at my surprised expression. “Pardon my language.”
“No, you’re right, he was definitely a dick.” Once more, she smiled; my new goal in life was to bring that look to her face as often as I could.
“It’s so weird that you’re here. I was just thinking about you.” She was? That was a good sign. “You look fantastic, Noah, but you always did. If possible, you might look better now than the last time I saw you.”
Me? I let out a chuckle. “I’d say you hold the award for that. The last time I saw you . . .” An image of her in an oversized hoodie, baggy jeans, black-rimmed glasses, and hair in a nest of curls that birds would have loved to live in, popped into my head. “You didn’t look like this . . .”
“That’s because I was seventeen. You, on the other hand, were much older.”
“I was only twenty-two! I’m not that much older than you.”
“Back then you thought you were.”
“So you were thinking about me?”
“Yes.” Her face turned a pretty shade of pink at her admission. I knew that Margo had a crush on me, but she was just a kid when we first met—a high schooler, and I was in college. In other words, no way in hell would I have even considered her dateable. But knowing I had been in her recent thoughts made me happy.