He's Still The One. Cheryl Kushner

He’s single. He’s breathing. He’s straight. He’s here.”

      “That’s low, Kate, even for you.” Zoe shuddered, determined not to try and follow what passed for Kate’s logic. Let Ryan O’Connor back into her perfectly ordered life? No way. Never. She wasn’t that desperate, wasn’t ever going to be that desperate, for a relationship.

      She held up her glass. “No, iced tea the way Mom makes it is perfect for me, but I know the sugar she dumps into it is bad for me.” Her voice caught in her throat. It was important Kate understood her feelings and didn’t do something Zoe would live to regret. “I’m not one of those women who need a man to make her complete. I’m happy with my friends and my family.”

      “Ryan’s always going to be a part of our family. Even though we’ve been divorced longer than we were married. You were good friends once. You can be friends again.” Kate reached for Zoe’s hand and gently squeezed. “At least talk to him. Clear the air between you.”

      When hell freezes over. “Soon as I see him.”

      “Promise. It’s important to me.”

      Zoe sighed. The always tenacious Kate wasn’t going to let go. “Okay. One little talk. Just for you.”

      Kate wrapped her in hug. “You won’t regret it.”

      I already do. Zoe knew she owed it to Kate to be the best maid of honor she could be. She’d be careful so that she wouldn’t run into Ryan. If she did, she would be—she wracked her brain for a word—pleasant, she’d be pleasant.

      “And then,” Zoe said brightly, “I won’t have to see him for the next two weeks, until I’m forced to stand across the aisle from him on your wedding day.”

      Meanwhile, she wouldn’t think about what it might be like to kiss Ryan, be the recipient of his sexy smiles or caress his dimples. But she was intrigued about the haunted look on his face when she demanded to know why he’d left Philadelphia. She’d get to the bottom of that soon enough.

      “There is one more thing you should know…” Kate’s voice trailed off.

      From the ominous tone in her sister’s voice, Zoe wasn’t sure she was ready for the one more thing. “And that is…?”

      The sound of male voices downstairs had Kate running to the top of the staircase. Zoe followed, curious.

      “Anyone home up there?” called a deep voice Zoe knew she hadn’t heard before.

      “Alec?” Kate frantically brushed her hands through her hair, checked her appearance in the hall mirror. “Zoe’s finally arrived. And there’s a problem with the caterer.”

      Zoe sighed, returned to the bedroom and closed the door. She just bet the one more thing Kate had failed to tell her had to do with Ryan. She slipped out of her terry-cloth robe and into a pair of well-worn jeans and a Wake Up, America T-shirt. Her eyes caught the mud-caked tennis shoes she’d tossed on top of the clothes hamper. She gingerly picked them up by their shoestrings and dropped them into the waste can by the bureau. No time like the present to get rid of unnecessary luxuries.

      And no time like the present to meet her future brother-in-law. A quick glance into the hallway mirror told her she was as presentable as she could possibly be, under the circumstances. Maybe her cheeks were a bit too flushed, her eyes a bit too bright, but she’d spent twenty minutes in a hot shower.

      She jogged down the stairs into the living room to find her sister wrapped in the arms of a dark-haired man a few inches taller than Kate. The look on Kate’s heart-shaped face was one of a woman deeply in love and secure in the knowledge that her feelings were returned.

      Kate quickly made the introductions before spiriting away Alec so they could discuss wedding plans. Zoe walked into the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised to see Ryan seated comfortably at the kitchen table with an open pizza box in front of him.

      “Why are you here?” Zoe asked crossly before she had a chance to check her emotions. “I think we’ve spent enough time together for one day.”

      “Best man stuff.” He cocked a brow, surveyed her up and down several times before turning on that devastating smile. “You clean up well.”

      “How nice of you to notice.”

      “Almost didn’t recognize you without the mud.” He glanced down at her hands. “Or without the cuffs.”

      “I save the more sophisticated look for prison.” She sighed, took a step back. Ryan stood and took one step forward. He was much too close. She thought about her promise to Kate. Make peace? Not tonight. “Go home, Ryan. I’m too tired to play clever repartee with you.”

      Zoe yanked open the refrigerator door with more force than necessary. She pulled out two beers. It appeared Ryan wasn’t going home. She tossed one bottle in his direction. “No reason to let pizza with the works go to waste.”

      He caught the bottle before it made contact with his head and gently set it on the table. He eased himself back into one of the high-back oak chairs. “Your aim hasn’t matured along with the rest of you.”

      Zoe wanted to snarl at him. She really did. It wasn’t good manners that kept her from doing so. It was that marching band with its percussion section at full volume that had just begun rumbling through her head.

      She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples trying to ease the pain. Just pretend you met him today for the first time. Right. If life were simpler, and Zoe years younger, she’d happily take Kate’s advice. Ryan had grown from a gangly cute teenager into a devastatingly handsome man. She knew Kate would ignore her plea that she wasn’t interested in Ryan, and would still find a way for them to spend a lot of quality time together during the next two weeks. She wondered if she’d survive the experience.

      Zoe ordered herself to keep the conversation light but on point. She needed all her wits about her. “Kate thinks we should talk. Clear the air. Put the past behind us.” Date. No, dating Ryan O’Connor was not a viable option. Not now. Not ever.

      Then he smiled. And Zoe’s heart beat a tattoo. She thought back to earlier in the day, and the effect he’d had on her senses. From the moment they’d met, she’d been on the defensive. It was past time to turn the tables and put Ryan O’Connor in his place. “Let’s play Truth or Dare.”

      “Truth or Dare. And I’ll live to regret it.” Ryan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I admit I’ve followed your career because I take pleasure in your success. You tell me why you’ve treated me like a pariah the past ten years.”

      She sputtered as she fought to swallow a gulp of beer.

      “I know why.” The patience in his voice didn’t fool her. He was angry and trying hard to keep his emotions under control. “I’m not an idiot. I just need you to tell me why. Actually, you need for you to tell me why.”

      Zoe swallowed the gulp, but it was a few more seconds before she finally found her voice. “I’m not going to let you reduce the last ten years of my life into some sixty-second commercial for…”

      “You wouldn’t have offered up Truth or Dare if you didn’t have something important to say to me.”

      She hated it when he was right. When they were teenagers, playing Truth or Dare was the way they dealt with sensitive issues they’d rather not—but knew they had to—talk about. She didn’t want him to be right. She didn’t want him to be a handsome, sexy and available man.

      Zoe wanted him to be going bald, with bad skin and a paunchy stomach. With a nagging wife and several snot-nosed brats who drove him crazy. She wanted him to be a thousand miles away and not upsetting her already much too complicated life. But he was here. And she had no choice but to deal with him.

      He looked so comfortable sitting at her family’s dinner table as though he’d always had a place. He’d always belonged there, and when he’d gone, he’d left a hole no antiseptic could heal, no Band-Aid