Wild in the Moment by Jennifer Greene Page B

and your last name is suddenly Campbell again.”
    â€œYup,” Daisy said, which seemed to cover everything.
    â€œYou got a divorce?”
    She couldn’t answer that question quite so lightly. “Yes. And I’ll tell you about it. And Violet. But right now I’m rushed—just please don’t say anything to Mom and Dad until I’ve had the chance to tell you two completely what’s going on first, all right?”
    â€œNo, it’s not all right. First I want to know—”
    â€œCamille, I can’t talk now, honestly. I swear I’m not evading a conversation. I’m just plain short on time. And I need more than two seconds to explain what’s been happening.”
    â€œOkay, but—”
    Daisy hung up. It was already ten minutes after seven. Being a few minutes late wasn’t criminal, but she’d asked Teague to meet her outside—which meant he was stuck out there on a frigid-cold night. She tugged on a jacket, locked the back door and charged down the stairs.
    She’d carefully thought through everything she was wearing, from the St. John’s sweater and slacks to using the last of her hoarded Cle Peau makeup. Daisy couldn’t imagine Teague remotely caring about designer labels—and right now, he had no idea that all these silly, impractical clothes were all she owned. She’d played the pricey look up, rather than down, to help create a distance between them. She didn’t want him to think of her as normal, as conceivably staying in White Hills, or that there was any potential between them.
    That was the theory. But she’d also hoped to have more time to plan how to handle this meeting, and instead felt rushed inside and out.
    The bottom door opened into the vestibule of the Marble Bridge Café—and then one more door led her out to the street, where a tall, dark-haired man in asheepskin jacket stomping his feet to keep warm stood. He spun around when he heard the door, then stopped dead when he saw her.
    The streetlamp glowed on his ruddy cheeks and snow-dusted hair, but he looked at her with a fierce glow in his eyes. A blister-cold night suddenly warmed. A lonely heart was tempted…or, Daisy corrected herself, a lonely heart would have been tempted by the promise in those wonderful, sexy, warm eyes if she didn’t know better.
    She wasn’t going to repeat the same mistakes. She couldn’t possibly have fallen in love at first sight—or first night—not the kind of love that could conceivably work. It didn’t matter what her heart told her. Her heart had been dead wrong before.
    â€œYou came from inside the café? It looked all closed up and locked down to me. I never thought Harry kept it open past the afternoon hours,” he said in confusion.
    â€œYou’re right, the café’s closed. I’m living in the apartment above it.”
    He glanced up. “I didn’t even realize there was an apartment up there.” He opened his mouth as if intending to question her further, but then he looked at her again. Really looked. She had the shivery feeling he would like to swallow her up, because his gaze seemed like a vacuum that sucked in every tiny detail and kept it. “You look terrific.”
    â€œWhy, thank you, kind sir.”
    â€œOnly, you look too darn terrific for any restaurant this town can offer.”
    â€œTrust me,” she said wryly, “you can afford me.”
    She recognized where he was driving—McCutcheon’s, the best restaurant in White Hills—and diverted him to a fast-food burger place instead. He looked tired,her one-time lover. Fit and full of hell and more than capable of causing her a great deal of trouble, but still, tired.
    â€œYour head’s okay? All recovered from that major bump?” she asked him a few minutes later—while stealing another of his French fries. It was the first time she’d seen him in