John felt the scorching heat of red anger on his cheeks. Oh, boy, how he remembered the steam in their arguments. He pounded the counter twice, hard enough to make all the pencils bounce.

He put his elbow on the counter, lowered his forehead into his hand and took a few deep breaths. Boy, did she look good. Twenty-seven was pretty and nubile, but there was something about a few years on a woman. A couple of kids, a little maturity, and something a bit more steady settled around the chest and hips. She had changed from lovely to lush. What kind of dummy would fight with her? He could have been a nice guy and maybe asked her out. They were, after all, both single now.

Was he crazy? Wasn’t that what had started all this? Dating? The two of them came from two completely different worlds.

“John?”

He looked up. “I…ah…locked my keys in my car… I must not have been…you know.”

A small laugh woofed out of him. He should have known. “You weren’t paying attention. You were thinking about the mating cycle of the whooping crane or iambic pentameters.” Or me. Could you have been thinking about me, Leigh? “Don’t worry, I can get anything open.”

“And I’m sorry about what just happened. The fight. I really didn’t think that would happen,” she said. “Anymore,” she added.

“You weren’t the only one at fault,” he said. “Leigh, maybe we’d better get together, meet for a drink or dinner or something. We have this really messed-up karma, me and you, and if we don’t get some of this straightened out, we’re going to meet again in the next life as deadly enemies. Which would be okay if we ended up on opposing football teams, but if we’re twin sisters or something, it could be disastrous. Maybe we ought to get it all talked out so we can press on as… friends. Huh?”

“Yes,” she said in a breath, relieved. “Yes, that’s what I wanted to do from the start—to make up and be friendly somehow. But you’re the married one now.”

“Me? No, I’m divorced, too. I’ve been divorced practically since I got married.”

Her shocked expression was unmistakable. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It was over before it started. We only lived together for a few months. Ski season,” he added quietly, with the good grace to be somewhat embarrassed.

“Children?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Well, you said you didn’t want children, so you’re probably all right about that.”

“I didn’t want them back then. I was twenty-seven and self-centered. I was a skier with no ambition, for gosh sakes. I never thought about anything or anyone but myself. Surely you remember that.”