Free Excerpt from Never, Ever
A sizzling, thrilling romantic suspense, billionaire, second chance novel.
Now Available on Amazon Vella
First 3 chapters always free. Read it one bite at a time!
I shifted my bag to my left shoulder. “Good night,” I said, wandering toward my car.
“Good night, and...”
He stopped, so I stopped.
The soft roar of the highway traffic in the distance seemed to draw his attention as he looked beyond me. Then he shifted his gaze back to me.
“I lied, you know. I’m not sorry I kissed you.” He walked to me, and my bag and coat suddenly seemed too heavy to hold. “I’m sorry this isn’t happening somewhere else, some other time.”
He moved closer, and I dropped my keys, then bent, picked them up, and dropped them again.
“Some other time?” I asked. The moonlight kept one side of his face in shadow. “What other place, what other time?”
“A university.” He seemed pleased with this, even a little excited.
“And?”
“I’m an artificial intelligence professor.”
“And?”
“You’re a teacher.”
“What would I be teaching?” Liking the playfulness of him, I took slow, tiny sideways steps to my car, as if choreographing a mating dance.
“What would you like to teach?” he asked.
“Physics. I loved physics and chemistry, but my mother thought I should be practical, be a grade school teacher or a nurse.” I reached my car and unlocked it. “I chose business, which wasn’t as bad as physics in her mind. At least I could have a better chance of finding a man in a business setting.”
He took my things and put them in the back seat of the car, then walked around me. I opened the car door, and we stood on either side of it. He looked at me, first my eyes, then my mouth. A tingle spread through me, shaking my chest and breath.
“Physics. Never expected that.”
“I see. And then what?” I moved a few inches closer without planning to, playing with the rubber insulation on top of the door.
“I’ve been in love with you for a long time, but I’m afraid to tell you.” His voice deepened, almost a whisper.
In love. I tried to ignore those two words. They were imaginary, after all.
“But we can’t date colleagues. Colleges are as bad as big corporates.”
He put his hand on the top of the door, inches from mine, so I moved mine. “This isn’t easy. So, I’m not a professor, I’m a guy you meet on a train.”
“Sounds like a Hitchcock.”
“Crisscross. Strangers on a Train. I’ve always loved Hitchcock. But, if we meet on this train-not to plot to kill someone, but a long train ride, would you have dinner with me?”
“Another time, another place.” I nodded. “Like the movies.”
He shook his finger at me. “You’re avoiding. So, if these two met on a long train ride, and he asked her out to dinner, what would she say?”
He had me now, his eyes locked on, and I couldn’t and wouldn’t look away. “Yes, the physics professor would have dinner with him.”
His voice was raspy. “And, after the train ride, after dinner, would she see the professor again?”
I rocked side to side, then looked up at the cloudy night sky. “I don’t know, I don’t know how brave she is.”
He looked puzzled, and I realized the answer hadn’t fit the question, that I hadn’t mentioned the part about an awful marriage and an even worse divorce. I spun my keys, moving them around in my palm. “She hasn’t had good experiences at dinners. And relationships. And she needs her job.”
We smothered the raw emotions again, but in letting them show just that little bit, we had given them a hand-hold, a tiny shelf to grasp and survive the deadly ravine beneath us.
He whispered, “Another time, another place.”
I climbed into my car and did not remember the drive home. But I would never forget this night with Murphy in the dark.
Experience Vella, the new Amazon platform for serial story telling. Discover a whole new world of reading your favorite books, like Never, Ever, the thrilling romantic suspense waiting for you.
First 3 chapters always free. Read it one bite at a time!
I shifted my bag to my left shoulder. “Good night,” I said, wandering toward my car.
“Good night, and...”
He stopped, so I stopped.
The soft roar of the highway traffic in the distance seemed to draw his attention as he looked beyond me. Then he shifted his gaze back to me.
“I lied, you know. I’m not sorry I kissed you.” He walked to me, and my bag and coat suddenly seemed too heavy to hold. “I’m sorry this isn’t happening somewhere else, some other time.”
He moved closer, and I dropped my keys, then bent, picked them up, and dropped them again.
“Some other time?” I asked. The moonlight kept one side of his face in shadow. “What other place, what other time?”
“A university.” He seemed pleased with this, even a little excited.
“And?”
“I’m an artificial intelligence professor.”
“And?”
“You’re a teacher.”
“What would I be teaching?” Liking the playfulness of him, I took slow, tiny sideways steps to my car, as if choreographing a mating dance.
“What would you like to teach?” he asked.
“Physics. I loved physics and chemistry, but my mother thought I should be practical, be a grade school teacher or a nurse.” I reached my car and unlocked it. “I chose business, which wasn’t as bad as physics in her mind. At least I could have a better chance of finding a man in a business setting.”
He took my things and put them in the back seat of the car, then walked around me. I opened the car door, and we stood on either side of it. He looked at me, first my eyes, then my mouth. A tingle spread through me, shaking my chest and breath.
“Physics. Never expected that.”
“I see. And then what?” I moved a few inches closer without planning to, playing with the rubber insulation on top of the door.
“I’ve been in love with you for a long time, but I’m afraid to tell you.” His voice deepened, almost a whisper.
In love. I tried to ignore those two words. They were imaginary, after all.
“But we can’t date colleagues. Colleges are as bad as big corporates.”
He put his hand on the top of the door, inches from mine, so I moved mine. “This isn’t easy. So, I’m not a professor, I’m a guy you meet on a train.”
“Sounds like a Hitchcock.”
“Crisscross. Strangers on a Train. I’ve always loved Hitchcock. But, if we meet on this train-not to plot to kill someone, but a long train ride, would you have dinner with me?”
“Another time, another place.” I nodded. “Like the movies.”
He shook his finger at me. “You’re avoiding. So, if these two met on a long train ride, and he asked her out to dinner, what would she say?”
He had me now, his eyes locked on, and I couldn’t and wouldn’t look away. “Yes, the physics professor would have dinner with him.”
His voice was raspy. “And, after the train ride, after dinner, would she see the professor again?”
I rocked side to side, then looked up at the cloudy night sky. “I don’t know, I don’t know how brave she is.”
He looked puzzled, and I realized the answer hadn’t fit the question, that I hadn’t mentioned the part about an awful marriage and an even worse divorce. I spun my keys, moving them around in my palm. “She hasn’t had good experiences at dinners. And relationships. And she needs her job.”
We smothered the raw emotions again, but in letting them show just that little bit, we had given them a hand-hold, a tiny shelf to grasp and survive the deadly ravine beneath us.
He whispered, “Another time, another place.”
I climbed into my car and did not remember the drive home. But I would never forget this night with Murphy in the dark.
Experience Vella, the new Amazon platform for serial story telling. Discover a whole new world of reading your favorite books, like Never, Ever, the thrilling romantic suspense waiting for you.
