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Lucky Charm (Lucky 1)

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“Thank you.”

Holly ran between them. “The lady started to ring up my things. I just have to grab these, too.” She swept the rest of the pile into her arms. “Are you coming, Dad?”

“In two seconds.”

“Okay. See you at lunch, right?” Holly asked Gabrielle.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she assured his daughter, her gaze warm and friendly.

Holly darted back toward the cash register and Gabrielle laughed. “She’s a whirlwind.”

“That she is,” he said proudly.

Derek had never envisioned these two females meeting face-to-face, but now that they had, he should be amazed at the instant connection between them. But Holly was his daughter and his connection with Gabrielle had also been instant and intense.

After their breakup, he’d moved on with his life, one day at a time. He’d had no choice. But now that he was with Gabrielle again, his throat grew full with emotions too complex to separate, though he recognized a mix of desire, regrets and hope.

He took the moment to study her. From the tips of those high-heeled shoes his daughter loved, up her long, lean legs, over her hips and waist, she was really something. His gaze lingered on the cleavage peaking above her lacey, sexy top. She was better than the chocolate she’d always loved, he thought.

He reached out and touched her cheek. “You look good, Gabby.”

A visible tremor rippled through her at his touch. “You do, too,” she said.

“Dad! I need money,” Holly called to him.

“You should go to her. I need to tell Sharon about my lunch plans.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you in about an hour.”

She inclined her head and turned to walk away, then pivoted back. “Derek?”

“Yes?”

“You owe me a proper hello,” she said, then turned, her high heels clicking as she walked.

He closed his eyes and exhaled hard, trying to let himself think. But only short spurts of thought penetrated the haze of surprise and desire clouding his head.

Gabrielle was back.

And she definitely wasn’t ready to leave the past where it belonged.

GABRIELLE CAUGHT UP WITH Sharon, who had cornered a salesman into demonstrating various coffeemakers. She found Gabrielle and quickly turned back to the salesman. “I’ll take that one,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

Sharon nodded.

“I’ll go get it from the back,” the man said.

“Thank you,” she said, then whirled on Gabrielle. “Well?”

“Well.” Usually not at a loss for words, Gabrielle splayed her hands in front of her, unable to express what had just occurred. She needed time to digest it herself.

“Are you okay?” Sharon asked, her voice filled with concern.

“He called me Gabby,” she said, admitting what had sent her into an emotional tailspin.

Nobody but Derek had ever shortened her name. Hearing it again on his lips had brought back a flood of memories, some good, some bad. Like the late-night phone calls, whispering so she wouldn’t wake her parents, and the long nights tossing and turning afterward, fighting the urge to call him just to hear his voice or the sound of his breathing while she fell asleep.



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