Second Time Lucky. Debbi Rawlins

She slid onto a stool and studied the tented menu of exotic drinks.

      The three of them sharing two adjoining rooms with a small parlor had sounded great in theory. It meant they had only two bathrooms, and while that setup had been fine in college, she was so not used to sharing anymore. But it was only for a week, and she wasn’t planning on spending much time in the room. Especially if spring-break Jeff showed up.

      And if he didn’t…oh, well. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t be bummed if their Facebook shout-out went unanswered. Even if Jeff did show up, he might not be as tall as she remembered, or broad and hunky with thick sun-kissed hair. She couldn’t recall if he’d told her what his major had been, or if he’d shared his interests or much of anything else. They’d both been tipsy that night they met at the pool party—him more than her—and there had been a lot more kissing than conversation.

      The swarthy, smiling bartender approached to take her order, and she settled on a blue fruity concoction, based solely on the pretty picture, and then swiveled around to gaze toward the beach. Aside from more couples stretched out on beach towels, there were a few groups of guys, but they looked young. One dude wearing a pair of red floral swim trunks and no shirt caught her attention. He was standing at an outside table where the bar met the sand. He had the same build as Jeff, except this guy’s hair was a bit darker and shorter.

      “Here you go,” the bartender said, and she twisted around to find the tall, frothy drink garnished with a cherry, pineapple wedge and yellow paper umbrella. “Do you want to sign this to your room or keep a tab open?”

      “I’ll sign for it now.” She grinned at the fancy cocktail. She wouldn’t be caught dead ordering something this froufrou in Manhattan.

      She plucked the cherry first and popped it into her mouth before using both hands to pick up the odd-shaped glass. The only other people sitting at the bar was a couple huddled at the far end who’d been talking to the bartender. As she struggled with her first sip, determined to leave the pineapple wedge undisturbed, she noticed a man pulling out a stool at the other end of the bar close to the wall. Tall, short dark hair, cream-colored shirt.

      Frowning, she set the glass back down. Even though she hadn’t actually gotten a good look at him, there was something oddly familiar about the way he moved, the way he…

      Her heart somersaulted.

      David.

      Ridiculous, of course. It wasn’t him. Couldn’t possibly be. Not in this universe. Damn it. She had promised herself she wouldn’t think of him once on this vacation, and she’d blown it in the first two hours.

      For peace of mind she had to take another look. Trying to be inconspicuous, she used her cocktail napkin to wipe up an imaginary spill and slid a sidelong look at him.

      It couldn’t be. Except…it was.

      Holy crap.

      David smiled, and lifted his hand in a wave.

      She blinked. Hard. He was still there. She’d never seen him in anything but a suit before. Certainly never seen him smile like that. David Pearson actually looked a little nervous. But that was impossible. In fact, this was nuts. What could he possibly be doing here?

      “Mia?”

      She blinked again, felt the heat of someone close behind her. A hand touched her shoulder, and she slowly turned.

      “Mia, right?” It was red-swim-trunks guy.

      She stared blankly at him, her mind still on David.

      “It’s Jeff.”

      “Jeff. Right. Of course.” She looked into his familiar blue eyes and forced a smile.

      He gave her a lopsided grin, ducked and zeroed in for a kiss on the mouth.

      She turned her head just in time. The wet sloppy smooch landed on her cheek. His beer-saturated breath nearly knocked her over.

      “Sorry,” he mumbled, taking a second to right himself. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up. I couldn’t believe it when I read your post on Facebook. That was wild.”

      Mortified that David had seen what had happened, she leaned back, trying to put some distance between her and Jeff, who took the hint and sat on the stool beside her, fortunately not too close and blocking her view of David.

      “When did you get here?” she asked, scrambling to concentrate.

      “Yesterday morning. Me and two of my buddies. We got too much sun yesterday and spent more time than we should have at the bar today.” He smiled sheepishly. “You just get in?”

      “A couple of hours ago. My friends are still unpacking.”

      The bartender came for Jeff’s order, and she was relieved when he asked for a soft drink. Though she was disappointed that mentioning her friends hadn’t prompted him to volunteer whether his two buddies were the ones Lindsey and Shelby were expecting. She glanced at his friends and pretty much figured it out on her own. They didn’t look the least bit familiar, and boy, were they not the right type.

      Her gaze went back to Jeff and she found his bloodshot eyes fixed intently on her. “You look the same,” he said, sounding relieved. “Your hair is shorter.”

      “Yours, too.”

      “Yeah.” He self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck. “Good ol’ corporate America.”

      “Jeff.”

      His friends hollered from across the bar, and when he turned to acknowledge them, she shot a look toward David. His seat was vacant, his glass half-empty. Her gaze shifted in time to catch a glimpse of his back as he left the bar.

      “Look, we’ve rented surfboards,” Jeff said, signaling for his check. “You wanna come?”

      “Maybe another day.”

      “How about dinner?” Jeff lightly touched her hand and gave her the boyishly charming smile that had gotten to her six years ago. “You have plans yet?”

      Her wistful gaze drifted helplessly toward the stool where David had been sitting only seconds ago. What was he doing here? It made no sense. Whatever the reason, it couldn’t have anything to do with her. He probably hadn’t given her a moment’s thought since she’d left. As soon as it was announced that she’d given her notice, nearly everyone had tried to talk her into staying with the firm. But not David. He hadn’t said a single damn word. This was simply a coincidence. A bizarre crazy coincidence. “No,” she said finally. “No, I don’t have plans.”

      “I’ll make reservations someplace nice, and call your room when I get back. Okay?”

      “Sure. I’m looking forward to it.” She didn’t even mind when he kissed her cheek.

      DAVID HOPED HE WASN’T hanging around the lobby like an idiot for nothing. He checked his watch, then for the second time in five minutes, looked at his BlackBerry for messages, while mentally cursing his own stupidity. For God’s sake, he knew why she was here. He’d overheard the ladies talking in the break room about Mia and her friends’ plan to organize a reunion or some such thing relating to their senior year spring break.

      Frankly it had sounded odd to him, not at all like something Mia would be involved in. He thought back to his own spring break, the last one before going to law school, and smiled. He and three friends had gone to Barbados for the week, where there had been a lot of women, too much drinking and not a shred of common sense among them. Twice they’d had to buy their way out of sticky situations with the local authorities.

      Though nothing to be proud of, he wouldn’t have traded that wonderful, reckless carefree week for anything. Everyone needed that rite of passage. A few months later, he’d been firmly embedded in law school, studying his ass off, and doing the Pearson name proud. He hadn’t veered off course since, and he certainly wouldn’t pull an adolescent stunt like trying to recreate the week.

      Hard to