A Forever Kind of Love

She nodded. With a slight smile, she said, “It was good seeing you, Corey.” And she meant it. It was good to see him. Despite the agony Corey Anderson had unwittingly put her through, a part of her heart would always belong to him.

And if that wasn’t reason enough to get her butt back to New York, Mya didn’t know what was.

“Thanks again for coming to the funeral,” she said.

Against her better judgment, Mya leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. Then she quickly headed into the house, escaping temptation.

* * *

Corey watched Mya slip back into her grandparents’ house and had to force himself not to follow her. His skin tingled where her lips had touched, warming his body from the inside out.

How could she still have this effect on him?

His heart had started beating triple time when she’d walked through the doors of New Hope Baptist Church that morning. The small sanctuary seemed to have shrunk around him. Throughout the entire service, the only thing Corey could focus on was the woman who’d been a girl the last time he’d laid eyes on her.

There had been speculation over whether or not Mya would return to Gauthier for her grandfather’s funeral. Corey could not deny the bone-deep relief he’d felt the minute he set eyes on her in the church. He’d smiled at her—a smile she had not returned—and Corey figured that maybe fifteen years had not been enough time for Mya to get over what had happened the night of their high school graduation.

Not that he could blame her.

Regret lanced his chest as the image of her pained face jumped to the forefront of his mind. He would never forget the moment he’d looked up and found her staring at him through the window of his dad’s truck, where he’d sat half-naked with another girl’s legs wrapped around his waist. It was in that moment—when he knew he’d lost her—that Corey had realized just how lucky he had been to have her in the first place.

He had been a selfish, inconsiderate fool who deserved every dirty look Mya threw his way, even fifteen years later.

Corey had considered keeping his distance after the funeral. With half the town in attendance, it would have been easy to convince himself that there wasn’t an opportunity for any one-on-one time with her. But when had he ever chosen to take the easy path where Mya was concerned?

After that kiss, as innocent as it had been, Corey was happy he’d decided to seek her out. He rubbed his cheek, still experiencing the lingering effects of her soft lips on his skin. Despite how things had ended between them all those years ago, Mya Dubois could still affect him like no other woman could.

Chapter 2

A thick slice of sun slashed across the bed, warming her face and forcing one eye to open.

“Curtains, Gram. Curtains that close would be a nice touch,” Mya murmured into the pillow. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Someone had tried to paint over the brown water stain left from when the air-conditioning ducts had backed up, but Mya could still make out the faint edges. The stain had always reminded her of a bunny rabbit playing in the grass.

Mya reached for her eyeglasses from the nightstand. After sliding her feet into a pair of flip-flops, she didn’t bother to throw a robe on over her boy shorts and tank top. Now that Granddad was gone, there were only women in the house.

The aroma of sweet chicory coffee greeted her as she stepped into the hallway, along with the voices of her grandmother, Aunt Mo and her mother. Of course, Elizabeth was the loudest. Mya rushed through her morning bathroom routine and then headed straight for the liquid caffeine.

“Good morning,” she said as she entered the kitchen.

Aunt Mo was at the stove, stirring a pot of what looked like grits. Grandma and Elizabeth sat at the table. Her mother was dressed to the nines. Mya spotted a Christian Dior suitcase and a round hatbox just to the right of the door, and she nearly whooped with glee. She was more than ready to see Elizabeth board a plane back to San Francisco or Seattle or wherever it was she was living these days. Mya had stopped keeping track.

“You want breakfast?” Aunt Mo asked.

“No, thanks. The coffee’s enough for me.”

“You need more than just coffee,” her grandmother chastised.

“It’s better if she skips breakfast,” Elizabeth chimed in. “You don’t want to get fat. Right, baby?”

Deep breaths, Mya told herself. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

She grabbed a mug from the wooden mug tree and filled the cup almost to the brim. “Any sweetener?” she asked her aunt.

“I ran out of artificial sweetener last week,” Grandma said.

“Have you been eating sugar again?” Aunt Mo asked.

“Don’t start with me, Maureen.”

Her aunt plunked her free hand on her hip as the other continued to stir the grits. “That woman is too hardheaded for me.”

Mya winked at her grandmother as she walked past the table on her way to the smaller porch just off the kitchen. The morning was too pretty to take her coffee anywhere but outside. She sat on the wooden porch step and sipped her coffee, closing her eyes in pure ecstasy as the hot liquid slid down her throat.

“Thank God for coffee.” She sighed.

A motorized roar jolted Mya out of her relaxed, caffeine-induced bliss. She looked up to find Corey dressed in knee-length deck shorts—the kind with a dozen zippered pockets all over them—and a green T-shirt. He was pushing a lawn mower across the side lawn. He lifted his hand in a short wave, turned a tight corner with the lawn mower and headed back up toward the front yard.

“What the hell?” Mya muttered. She placed her coffee cup on the step and stomped across the yard.

“Corey!” she yelled.

He ignored her.

No, he hadn’t ignored her. Mya spotted the thin, white wires coming from his ears. She caught up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. The lawn mower sputtered to a stop as Corey let go of the handle. He turned, pulling the tiny speakers from his ears.

“Good morning,” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

“That question rhetorical?” he asked, motioning to the lawn mower. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be on a plane by now.”

“I fly out this afternoon,” Mya answered. “Now answer my question. What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “It’s Saturday. I always cut your grandmother’s grass every other Saturday.”

Wait. What?

He folded his arms over his green Gauthier High School Fighting Lions T-shirt and things started to click into place.

“You live here?” she asked. “In Gauthier?”

He nodded, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. Those eyes drifted a few degrees south and his smile widened. That’s when Mya remembered she was standing in the middle of the yard in boy shorts, a thin tank top and no bra. She crossed her arms over her breasts.

“When did you move back to Gauthier?” she asked.

Another shrug. “Last year.”

“Why?” She couldn’t keep the incredulousness from her voice. He’d retired from professional baseball a few years ago, but Mya knew Corey was still worth millions. Why would he choose to live in a small town like Gauthier when he could live anywhere he wanted to?