Fool Me Once (First Wives #1)

“He really is genuinely sorry for his douchebaggery,” Avery added.

“And you would know this how?” Lori asked her.

Avery looked at the faces around the room. “I might have had a couple conversations with the man since he messed up.”

“You’re talking to him?”

Shannon raised her glass. “I’m guilty, too.”

“Oh my God.”

Trina lifted a finger but didn’t make eye contact.

“Seriously, guys. He made a fool of me, of all of us.”

“Do you love him?” Shannon asked.

She started to deny it.

“Do you miss him?” Avery asked.

Lori lifted her chin but didn’t answer.

“Would you be happier with him in your life?”

Lori looked at Trina, and her resolve started to crumble. “The point is moot. He hasn’t even tried to contact me.”

“Would you give him a chance if he asked?”

“A chance would depend on what he said. This hurts too much to go through twice.”

“If he messed with you twice, we would run him out of town,” Trina teased.

“This isn’t Texas.” Shannon cut off a chunk of cheese and stood. “But I’ll endorse that rule.”

Trina took her glass, which was sitting on the table, and stood.

Next, Avery unfolded from her chair and put her pen and paper down.

“Where are you guys going?”

Avery pointed toward her front door. “Out . . . side. I heard a knock, did you hear a knock?” she asked Trina.

The three of them scrambled to the door.

Reed.

His hair was too long, and he’d grown out the hair on his chin and lip just enough to . . . just enough to make her heart skip a little more than it usually did when she saw him. He wore a button-up shirt, slacks, and a splash of humility as he leveled his eyes to hers.

She set her glass down before she dropped it, and wiped her hands on her jeans.

Avery moved past Reed. “Make it count.”

He nodded and thanked all three of them before closing the door.

“You orchestrated this?” she asked.

“I had to try something. I can’t close my eyes without seeing you. I swear I hear your voice ten times a day. I stare at the pictures of you on my phone while I’m at stoplights.”

Lori felt a smile inch onto her lips.

“It’s not funny . . . I’ve gotten two tickets for distracted driving just this week.”

Now she laughed.

He dodged a grin and dropped to his knees in front of her. He placed his hands on her legs, the warmth caught her breath. “I screwed up, Lori. What I did was unforgivable. No matter how I pushed the facts around in my head, I never came out on the side of right. And I know I don’t deserve you.” His voice cracked.

Moisture filled her eyes.

He caught her hands in his. “But I love you. And I can’t breathe another day without trying to get you back. I started with Avery. She seemed the most against me. Then I called Trina. My apology to Shannon might have resulted in some kind of blood pact to name my firstborn after her.”

Lori smiled through her tears.

“I love you. I’m not giving up until you give me a second chance to prove we belong together. If you tell me to leave, I’m just coming back tomorrow, and the next day. I’ll start leaving notes and flowers.” He smiled into her eyes. “I’ll probably be taken to jail for stalking you, but it will be worth it if you give me a chance. One chance, please.” He kissed the backs of her fingers.

She released his hand and brushed aside his hair.

He leaned into her touch, and she leaned in with her lips.

Reed caught his breath and gasped before wrapping both hands around her head and sealing their second chance with a soul-shattering kiss.

Lori leaned back, took a breath. “One.”

He kissed her again.

She pulled back again. “Complete honesty.” She stared into his soul through his eyes.

“Deal.”

“All right.” She smiled.

He lifted her off the couch until her body was molded to his. “You won’t regret this, Lori. We’ll be fighting over turkey legs when we’re seventy.”

She choked on a laugh. “A turkey has two legs.” But good Lord, how she wanted to plan on growing old with this man. Tears ran down her cheeks.

“What is it, baby?”

She tried to hold in her tears. “I w-want to fight over turkey legs.”

Reed pulled her into his arms and let her cry. “Then we’ll throw one away and fight over the one that’s left.”

With her head buried in his shirt, she clawed at the back of him, soaking him in. “I don’t even like turkey.”

Reed’s chest started to quake until his laugh took on its own life. He picked her off the ground and spun in a circle.





Epilogue


Reed played with the tie around his neck, did the around thing, the under thing, and then the give up thing. “Babe?”

“It’s not that hard!” Lori said from the kitchen.

“Yes it is,” he muttered as he pulled it from his neck, turned the light off, and followed her voice.

He made it two steps into the room and froze. Lori in Christmas red with a crisscross of spaghetti strings where the back of the dress should be rendered him speechless. Tiny white lights glistened off the sparkle in the material and the diamond earrings that dropped from the lobes of her ears.

“No it’s not,” she said, turning toward him. “What?”

He had to catch his breath. “You’re stunning.”

Her heels clicked, and the material of the dress clung to her breasts in a wispy caress. Delicate fingertips took the tie from his hands and worked their way up his chest. “How can I deny you with your compliments?”

The scent of perfume stole his thoughts.

“There.” She patted his tie after pulling it close to his neck.

“How many single men will be at this party?” He wrapped both his arms around her waist, played with the back of her dress, teasing her skin.

The Harrison Christmas party would house more brass than the White House. Their wealth and stature didn’t concern him at all, what did was the amount of men who would be tripping over themselves to get to her.

“Not too many. Most of Sam and Blake’s close friends and family are all married or otherwise engaged.”

That made him feel a little better.

“What is it?”

“My inner caveman is raging.”

Her eyes drifted down.

“You’re insatiable, woman. That isn’t what I meant.”

She ran her hands up his shoulders and left them there. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated.

“Complete honesty.” Those two words had become their mantra for the past three months. The only time he’d pleaded mercy was when she asked if a dress she wore made her look fat. I’m not answering that question ever. That is a woman’s trick question, and if a man ever tells you otherwise, they’re high. She’d started to argue, and he stepped up and did what every man should when a woman asks that question. He slid beside her, pulled the dress off, and let his body show her how the dress made her look. Now, whenever she wanted to be late to work, she asked if something made her look fat.

“Reed?”

“I don’t want any of the men at this party believing you’re available.”

“I’m not available.”

“You know what I mean.”