Flirting with Destiny. Christyne Butler

by piece. His hand gently glided over the smooth fuselage even as his stomach tightened into familiar knots.

      Mac had allowed Dev to help with the restoration after he’d become his sponsor, and had taken him for his first flight the day Dev had celebrated twelve months of sobriety. He’d also been the one who got Dev interested in flying helicopters and was there the day he’d earned his pilot’s license.

      Not that Dev ever planned to be in the air again.

      Refusing to allow his thoughts to head in that direction, he kept walking, ignoring the pain, until he could’ve sworn he heard—

      Wind chimes?

      Yes, that’s exactly what it sounded like, along with music that should only be heard in an elevator.

      Wondering if Mac had left the radio on—though his buddy was more a fan of classic rock and roll than this stuff—Dev stepped into the back area of the hangar where Mac kept an office on one side and an all-in-one exercise machine on the other.

      The sight of a very shapely feminine backside perched in the air stopped him in his tracks.

      Hel-lo!

      Dev took in the position of the arms and legs that went with the sexy backside. The woman was twisted tighter than a pretzel. Then she slowly untangled herself to stand straight and tall. Still facing away from him, she showed off miles of toned muscles thanks to a skimpy tank top and leggings that hugged her curves in all the right places.

      And was that a tattoo on her shoulder?

      Not wanting to startle whoever she was, Dev cleared his throat. Nothing. Was the music too loud for her to hear him?

      He tried again but all she did was gracefully move into another position that left her balancing on one leg, arms stretched high over her head. She tilted her head back, a ponytail of dark hair brushing between her shoulder blades.

      Impressive. If he tried that, even when he’d had two good legs, he’d be flat on his butt in two seconds.

      Figuring the intruder was harmless, Dev took a few more steps and then leaned back against Mac’s desk. Crossing his arms over his chest, he ignored the pain the move brought and decided to enjoy the show.

      He let his gaze travel the length of her, surprised when he felt his body responding in a way it hadn’t in months.

      Not that he’d spent much time with the opposite sex since the crash, but this stranger was intriguing him in ways the blonde barmaid hadn’t even come close to.

      Who was she?

      Mac had a daughter from a long-ago marriage. Still, this woman was too young. Dev guessed she was in her late twenties, a few years younger than him.

      She couldn’t be a girlfriend, could she? The last he knew, the feisty Ursula, owner of the local beauty parlor his mother visited every week, was the current object of Mac’s affections.

      Maybe she was another lost soul looking for redemption?

      His buddy had helped many members of the local Alcoholics Anonymous chapter over the years, often letting those who needed a place to crash stay in the otherwise empty cabin.

      But Mac always kept his assistance to the male species. It was just simpler that way.

      Surprised that the idea of her possibly being off-limits bothered him, Dev tucked away his growing interest. Time to make his presence known once and for all.

      Looking away from her bare feet, he cleared his throat one more time and said, “Miss, I don’t mean to scare you—”

      She whirled around, and suddenly a barrage of foam bricks flew at him, pelting him on his shoulders, the last one bouncing off his chin, cutting off his words.

      More surprised than hurt, he easily deflected the next two bricks aimed at his head. Jerking away from the desk, he cursed under his breath as the familiar fire ripped down his leg and he wobbled like a newborn.

      “Hey! Knock it off!”

      * * *

      Tanya Reeves stood, arm cocked, her breaths coming hard and fast, ready to hurl her last yoga brick at the tall stranger’s head. Her heart pounded in her chest, the hard-earned peace and tranquility from her yoga session blown to bits the moment she’d turned and found him behind her.

      “Who are you?” she demanded, between huffs. “What are you doing here? Don’t you dare come one step closer.”

      “I haven’t taken a step yet.”

      She dropped the brick and grabbed her cell phone from the cushioned bench attached to the nearby weight machine. “You better not. I’m dialing 9-1-1 right now.”

      “It’s not going to do you any good.”

      She scooted back a foot and took a stance, pushing her sweaty bangs out of her eyes. It’d been a few years since her last karate class, but she could still deliver a roundhouse kick with the best of them.

      Of course, this guy had to be almost six feet tall. Better shoot for the chest. “Yeah, well, we’ll see about that.”

      The man perched himself against the desk again, his arms at his sides, fingers curling around the scarred edge. The corner of his mouth quirked into a slight grin.

      A familiar grin?

      “There’s no reception in here,” he continued.

      She looked down at her phone. No bars. Damn!

      “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”

      Yeah, if I had a dollar for every time I’d heard that. A snort of disbelief escaped before she could stop it.

      “I take it from your response you don’t believe me.”

      Tanya relaxed, but kept a safe distance away. She was probably overreacting, but life had a way of teaching hard lessons. “I might if I knew your name and what you’re doing here.”

      His smile grew, easy and natural, warming his icy blue eyes and sending her heart back into a rapid frenzy.

      Because his eyes looked familiar, too?

      No, that couldn’t be it. It had to be because he was tall, gorgeous and casually sexy in jeans and a button-down blue-striped shirt, pulled tight across nice shoulders.

      Her gaze dropped to his feet.

      Yep, cowboy boots, too.

      Quickly blaming her renewed shortness of breath on her weakness for men in cowboy boots, Tanya looked him in the eye again, offered a raised eyebrow and waited.

      “I’m a friend of the man who lives here,” he finally said. “The name’s Murphy. Devlin Murphy.”

      Devlin?

      And just like that, the memory of a stolen night a decade ago in Reno came back to her. After all these years, who would’ve thought the first person she’d run into in this town was the same drunken fool she’d shared what had been an almost-perfect evening with?

      A fool who clearly had no idea who she was.

      Chapter Two

      “Your turn.”

      Tanya blinked, chasing away memories of bright lights, crowded casinos and dark nightclubs where the same strong arms of the man in front of her had once held her close. “Huh?”

      “It’s only fair that you tell me your name now.”

      She wondered for a moment if he’d remember her. Until Devlin had said his name, she hadn’t realized who he was, but she blamed that on turning in the middle of a side stretch and finding a total stranger watching her.

      No, not a total stranger.

      Yes, actually he was.

      Ten years was a long time,