Déjà Date Read Online Free PDF Page B

this letter from my dad hadn’t appeared until now, which had to be the worst timing ever.
    I backed out of the driveway unable to believe my dream was being crushed only an hour after I’d discovered what it was. How tragic was that? I pressed my foot on the gas and zoomed down the tree-lined street.
    There was only one place I wanted to be right now.
    With tears spilling down my face, I rounded the corner, and brought my convertible to a stop against the curb at my childhood park. I swiped at my cheeks, then retrieved the envelope from my purse and left the bag on the floor of the car.
    Gripping the envelope in my hand, I marched toward the swing set, which had always been my favorite spot to sit and think when I was sad.
    Fresh tears escaped, blurring my sight as I approached the edge of the sandbox that enclosed the swing set area. I stepped over the wooden box and my heels sank into the sand as I plodded toward my swing. Then I glanced up, gasped, and came to an abrupt halt.
    In front of me was Nate Carter, sitting on my favorite swing.

Chapter Three
    Only one swing set occupied the large sandbox at the park, and it contained two black seats, each hanging from a linked chain attached to an overhead wooden beam. Nate was sitting in the swing to my right, which happened to be my favorite.
    He’d ditched the leather jacket and was wearing a short-sleeved shirt—one that showed off his muscular arms—and snug-fit jeans. With the heels of my shoes sinking further into the sandbox, I gaped at him in shock, and watched his gaze lift to meet mine.
    Our gazes locked and an electric current ran through my belly, giving me a strong sense of déjà vu. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t fourteen, my dog hadn’t just died, and Nate wasn’t about to kiss me. Far from it. In truth, it was probably a toss-up as to which one of us looked more surprised to see the other.
    “What are you doing here?” I quickly swiped under my eyes, hoping I didn’t have black lines of mascara streaked across my face.
    He jumped to his feet. “That’s the same question I was about to ask you.”
    “I came here to be alone,” I said, hoping he’d take the hint and find someplace else to do, well, whatever it was he was doing. It was hard enough that I’d have to see him at the bakery for the next two weeks. I certainly didn’t need him here right now when I came to my sacred spot for emotional comfort, not distress.
    “Well, I was here first.” He backed himself up against the seat of the swing, lifted his legs, then swung forward with a playful grin. “But you can stay if you’d like. Hop onto the other swing. I don’t mind your company.”
    With a heavy sigh, I kicked my heels off, then climbed onto the left swing. “Since I can’t have the park to myself, I’d appreciate it if you would pretend I’m not here. I’d like to be alone with my thoughts.”
    “Not a problem.” He grinned, then faced forward and pumped his legs to go higher.
    Trying to erase the image of his alluring grin, I backed up on my tippy-toes, and sat in the seat. Then I lifted my legs and glided forward. The cool wind whipped across my cheeks and I closed my eyes, waiting for the comfort to wash over me. It didn’t happen.
    Most likely because Nate was here. Sigh.
    “What’s that in your hand?” His tone sounded curious.
    “Nothing.” I twisted toward him, and tightened my grip on the sealed envelope, knowing I couldn’t read it now, not with him peering over at me. “Besides, you agreed not to talk to me. Remember?”
    He had the decency to appear contrite. “Yeah, but you look upset. And this is where you come when something’s bothering you. So why don’t you tell me about it?”
    “No, thanks.”
    “Come on.” He gave me a side-glance, flashing his gorgeous jade-green eyes at me in an endearing way. “Don’t you remember all of the things we used to share?”
    I started to smile, remembering the secrets we would tell each other