Ransom

After securing her long braid with a rubber band, she opened the door and entered the living room. Blake had his back to her, blocking her view of the two people with him. But then he turned around and captured her whole focus.

He’d changed into green cargo pants and a cream-colored cable knit sweater. He’d also taken the time to shave, which accentuated the planes and angles of his face. His dark hair was still damp. Liz liked the way the ends curled at his nape. Weariness rimmed his dark eyes. He gave her a quick once-over.

She caught something akin to interest in his expression, which seemed to thaw the hard coldness of his eyes just a tad more. Her heart bumped against her breastbone as attraction zinged through her veins and made her knees weak. Her mouth went dry. Confusion swirled within her brain. She never went all mushy over a man. Only heartache lay in that direction.

Watching her sister fall in love over and over again with various men through the years and then witnessing the emotional upheaval when the relationship ended had drilled home to Liz what she’d learned from watching her father after her mother’s death. Love equaled pain.

Whether it was a bruised ego, as was often the case with Jillian, or a broken spirit like their father, giving one’s heart away meant losing a part of oneself.

Liz had no intention of losing herself for anyone.

“Good morning.” A hint of a smile touched his lips drawing her attention. He had such a nice-shaped mouth. She batted down that errant thought. “I hope you slept well.”

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