Return To Me. Shannon McKenna

who can kick his arrogant ass on an hourly basis,” Cora said grimly. “But I’m not good enough friends with Ellen to tell her that. Maybe you could.”

      “I already tried,” he said. “She doesn’t want to hear it from me.”

      Cora’s hand jerked, sloshing her margarita over the tablecloth. “Oh, crap. Speak of the devil. Too late to run for the ladies’ room.”

      Simon turned his head. Sure enough. Brad peered through the restaurant window. His gaze locked with Simon’s, glittering with rage.

      “Oh, crap, crap, crap,” Cora moaned, as the restaurant door swung open. “This is going to seriously screw with my digestion.”

      He was big. Simon ticked off details with a detached professional eye. Bigger than he’d been in high school, but it was pumped-up gym bulk, not streamlined fighting muscle. Big, clenched fists, muscles twitching in his jaw, neck muscles contracted.

      An inconvenience, but not a problem, the well-honed data processor in Simon’s head concluded. Unless he pulled out a gun, which was unlikely. “Hi, Brad,” Simon said. “Been a while.”

      Brad’s eyes slid to Cora. “Well, well. Look at this. Didn’t waste any time, did you, Cor?”

      She gave him a dazzling smile. “Oh, I never, ever do, Brad. You know me. Seize the moment, that’s my motto.”

      His eyes flicked back to Simon. “I heard about you slinking around town today.”

      “What constitutes slinking?” Simon asked.

      “You should have stayed away,” Brad said. “Nobody wants you here, Riley. Burning property makes enemies.”

      Simon sawed off a hunk of steak, put it in his mouth, chewed it.

      Brad’s face tightened. “Listen to me. Get out of Ellen’s house. Then get out of town. I don’t want you near her. I will go to any lengths necessary to make you leave. Do we understand each other?”

      Simon chomped a wedge of garlic bread. The restaurant was silent but for the sound of his bread crunching.

      “Answer me when I speak to you!” Brad snarled.

      Simon took a leisurely swallow of beer.

      Brad’s mouth tightened. “OK, fine.” His voice was menacing. “You brought this on yourself, just like you did back in high school.”

      Simon slid out of his chair as Brad grabbed his arm. He seized the flesh between Brad’s thumb and forefinger and flipped his wrist over, torquing it in one sinuous move. He applied pressure to the twisted tendons until Brad doubled over, gasping. “Let’s take this outside.”

      “Let go of me, you worthless piece of shit,” Brad hissed.

      Simon applied more pressure. Brad sucked air as Simon herded him around the tables of diners. Cora ran ahead, and yanked the door open. Her eyes were big and worried. Simon let Brad pitch forward.

      Brad sprawled over the hood of his Porsche and scrambled to his feet. He cradled his wrist. “If you’ve broken my wrist, I’m suing!”

      “I didn’t break anything,” Simon assured him. “Put ice on it.”

      “Besides, you started it,” Cora said. “I saw you. Big bully.”

      Brad’s eyes swept over the skin-tight jeans, the cleavage, the dangling earrings. “Who’s going to believe the town tramp?”

      Simon feinted towards him, and Brad stumbled back. “Don’t speak to her that way, or I really will give you something to sue me for.”

      “Keep away from Ellen, or I will ruin your life,” Brad snarled.

      “I’m shaking,” Simon remarked. “Absolutely terrified.”

      Brad shot Cora a final, contemptuous glance and climbed into his car. The tires squealed as he took off.

      Simon started to shake with leftover adrenaline. It was no surprise how unwelcome he was in this town, but that didn’t make it easier to bear. He realized that Cora was speaking, and yanked his attention back to her. “Sorry, Cor, what did you say?”

      “I said thanks for sticking up for me.”

      “Same to you,” he said.

      She stuck her hands with some difficulty into the pockets of her tight jeans. “Where’d you learn to do that kind of thing?”

      “What kind of thing?”

      “The way you handled him. That fighting stuff. Very cool.”

      “Oh, here and there. I learned some in the service, and some on my own. Kung fu, aikido and karate, mixed together.” He met Cora’s heavily made-up eyes, and felt a rush of affection for her. Cora was a nice woman, good-humored and honest. She didn’t deserve the grief this place had given her. She deserved it far less than he did.

      “I’m sorry Brad was ugly,” he said. “I wish you hadn’t heard that.”

      Her smile was pinched. “I’m used to it. I wish I could say that I don’t care, but it would be a big fat lie.” She tilted her head to the side and studied him. “Why couldn’t I have gotten hung up on you instead of Brad? You’re just as good-looking. Maybe even better looking, in a totally different way. And you’re a much sweeter person.”

      Her words gave Simon a nervous twinge, but Cora’s eyes were guileless and direct, not flirtatious. “Actually, I’m not,” he said. “Sweet, I mean. I’m not much of a prize. More trouble than I’m worth.”

      “Bullshit,” she said. “You’re holding out for a curly haired blonde with long legs and big brown eyes, right? I’m on to you, dude.”

      A wave of misery came over him. He looked down at the sidewalk.

      Cora put her hand on his shoulder. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dig. You know, this is like that Shakespeare play we studied in English, remember? The two couples who get lost in the woods, and the fairy screws up and puts the magic flower juice on the wrong people’s eyelids so everybody falls in love with the wrong person?”

      “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” he said. “You’re right.”

      “What a godawful mess,” she said. “I should get my head shrunk.”

      “He’s the one who needs it, not you, Cor,” Simon protested. “He treats you like—”

      “I know, I know. But he was the first guy I ever slept with. He made a big impression. I’ve had nicer guys, but they fizzled. But hey. My dad was a jerk, too. So I’m attracted to men who treat me badly. How kinky is that? I should be on Jerry Springer.”

      Her forced attempt at humor was painful to watch. “You deserve better,” he told her. “You deserve the best, Cor.”

      “Don’t worry about it. I’ll work it out.” She smiled at him, a little too brightly. “How about we call it a night? Give me a ride home, OK?”

      “OK,” he agreed gratefully.

      He paid for their unfinished meals.

      Cora slid off the bike when he braked in front of her double-wide at Twin Lakes. She slapped him hard on the back. “Good luck.”

      Simon lifted an eyebrow. “For what?”

      “Figure it out, Einstein.”

      When Ellen finally heard the rumble of the motor, she jumped out of bed so fast she almost tripped over her own feet. Her heart thudded as she shucked the summer nightdress, yanked on her cut-offs and a T-shirt, slipped into her thongs. She had to cross paths with him before he went upstairs. Their last interchange had been awful. This sick feeling in her belly wasn’t going to let her sleep. She was halfway down the stairs when she realized that she’d forgotten her bra.

      Oops.