Christi stopped a few feet away and tried to fill her uncooperative lungs. “Hello, Jack.” The greeting came out a bit husky, thanks to the tail end of the cold she’d been fighting for the past week.

His smile evaporated, and twin crevices creased his brow. “I’m sorry . . . have we met?”

Still no glimmer of recognition.

“It’s been a while.” She drew a shaky breath and removed her sunglasses. “Christi Reece.”

As the name of the woman who’d once stolen his heart—then trampled on it—reverberated in the quiet, peaceful air of the town he now called home, Jack’s lungs locked.

Christi Reece, here?

Impossible.

Yet as he scrutinized her, reality smacked him in the face. Her hair was shorter and not as blond . . . and a decade of living had snuffed some of the youthful glow from her complexion, added a smudge of shadow beneath her lush lower lashes. But the brilliant cornflower blue of her eyes remained undimmed, and those full lips that had caressed his with eager abandon looked as soft as ever despite a slight droop at the corners.

It was her, even if her voice was deeper than he remembered.

His stomach bottomed out, and he swallowed past the sudden bitter taste in his mouth.

Why, after all these years, had she invaded his turf? Tainted the new life he’d created far from his Midwest roots? Resurrected the memories he’d banished of the day his world had crumbled?

He gritted his teeth, his appetite vanishing despite the savory aroma of Charley’s tacos wafting up from the bag clenched in his fingers.

“What are you doing here?” The question came out harsher and more resentful than he intended . . . but so be it. The sentiment was spot-on.

She tucked a lank strand of hair behind one ear. “I came to see you. To t-talk to you.”

He frowned at the subtle stammer. Christi Reece, nervous?

Major disconnect.

With her wealth and privileged upbringing, she’d always possessed an overabundance of confidence and composure. What was going on?

But curiosity wasn’t sufficient motive to extend this conversation or probe for particulars.

“I have nothing to say to you.” He pulled out his shades, slid them on, and prepared to make a fast exit.

As if sensing his intent, she took a step closer, palms extended in a placating gesture. “Look, I know I hurt you. I know what I did was wrong. Worse than wrong. It was unconscionable. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t regretted my behavior. If I could fix the damage, I would.”

He steeled himself against the trace of tears in her voice. “What happened between us is ancient history. If you came here for closure, consider it done.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

“Wait! Please!”

Please?

He faltered midstride.