The only thing he could figure was that a certain part of his anatomy wasn't connected to his brain. Because if it was, he wouldn't be having this problem. "The fish tacos are good. So are the fajitas."

     "I should've known you'd pick a Mexican restaurant," she said, looking up.

     A jumble of all-too-vivid memories slammed him back into the past. Memories that, even now, after all this time, twisted his belly into knots.

     Everything had been perfect until she'd given him some cockamamie story about being too young to get serious. Truth was, she had bigger plans and didn't want to be stuck on a ranch somewhere in the boondocks with some half-breed cowboy. She hadn't said those exact words, but he knew that's what she'd meant.

     He ground his teeth.

     "Something wrong?"

     "Nope. Just thinking about old times." He forced a smile. "Thinking about old times and how much fun it was back then."

     "It was, wasn't it?" She leaned forward with both elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hands. Her face was framed by a wild tangle of auburn curls, her easy white smile accented by dimples on both sides.

     "But," she added, "I suspect, as we get older, it's easier to remember only the good stuff."

     "Or maybe we just wise up and don't think about the rest of it because there's no point."

     The bitterness he'd thought long forgotten rose up like bile in his throat. He shifted in his chair. This meeting was to talk about his son. That they'd once had a relationship had nothing to do with anything.

     He didn't need to know what she'd been doing, how she'd been, or even if she'd missed him just a little. He didn't want to know any of it. Ten years had passed, for God's sake.

     But those were his rational thoughts. And his body didn't seem to understand the logic. His body said he wanted her. Now.

     Still.

     He reached out and drew her left hand down to rest in the palm of his, then stared at the slender fingers, the perfectly manicured nails, bare of polish.

     "Not married?"

     She retracted her hand. "No, not married. And you obviously were. Any other children?"

     "No. No other children."

     "Oh." She looked as if she didn't know what to say. "Divorced?"

     He nodded. "The marriage lasted twenty minutes. It was a bad choice. You?"

     She shook her head. "No. Never."

     "Never?" It would've been better if she'd gotten married. At least then he'd have an answer, even if the answer was that she'd fallen in love with some other guy.

     "Too busy saving the world, huh?" He locked his gaze with hers.

     "What do you mean?"

     "That's the reason you gave when you left, wasn't it? You were too young to settle down, had too many things to do, too many people to help. A husband and family weren't in the plan."

     "It wasn't exactly like that."

     "No? What exactly was it like?"

Excerpt from Slow Dance with a Cowboy by Linda Style
Harlequin Superromance (June 2002)
ISBN 0-373-71062-3
Copyright © 2002 by Linda Style
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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