Reality Romance Reunion
Business-minded Tamara Foles hopes acting as a judge on a new reality TV show, Domestic Goddess, will give her struggling interior design firm the boost it needs. But she doesn't count on her professional demeanor being changed into the mean-girl role. Or on her ex, Reid Jacobs, being the assistant director. Whatever may have gone wrong in the past, the passion between her and Reid is still very much alive. Navigating an old relationship made new again is difficult enough without the whole world watching…
Viewer discretion advised. Mature audiences only.
"The frequent battles of wills and the theme of second chances stir a reminder to the days of TV's Sex and the City with its smart, sassy ladies who were not always right, but who weren't afraid to walk their paths." - USA Today Must Read Romance
"If you’re a fan of second chance romances, especially those that are deeply emotional and very, very sexy, definitely check out Snapped." - Harlequin Junkie
Bodies moved past as I focused downward and as each one went, my rising panic began to subside. That was until a shadow stretched across my body and a long-forgotten scent washed over me.
God, please kill me.
I looked up into those beautiful bright green eyes rimmed with black frames. The flight gods were clearly laughing their asses off, sending a demon to torture me for the next two hours.
Reid ran his hand down across his mouth. “Do I have something on my face? It’s not like you to stare.”
“What?” Shit. Smooth, Tamara. “No. What are you doing here?”
“You’re in my seat. I’m fine with the aisle though. It gives me room to stretch my legs.” He didn’t wait for me to respond and sat down.
“What?” I squeezed the edge of my tablet. My brain now bounced between running through plane-crash scenarios and trying to figure out how best to change seats. “You can’t be sitting here.”
“I wasn’t originally. You do still hate flying, right? Figured the guy who was going to be here would appreciate moving before your panic attack set in.”
“Asshole.” I tried to relax my grip on my table, but my body wasn’t cooperating. “What are you doing here? On this plane?”
“The same thing you are, going to New York.”
His low, rich voice was a balm to my nerves. Despite how we’d broken up, my body seemed to recognize Reid’s and immediately relaxed. I’d forgotten how protected his long, strong body made me feel. The seats in first class gave him more room than in coach, but he still had to tuck his legs awkwardly into the space between the seats whenever someone walked down the aisle.
I wanted nothing more than to say something snarky to him. Three years ago he’d called me a cold bitch and I’d screamed back about him being an uncommunicative asshole. He’d taken my demand to leave seriously, and I’d never seen him again…until today. So the how and why of us sitting side by side on a plane couldn’t be his fault. Could it?
Momentarily ignoring each other, we both took the warm towels and complimentary beverages offered to us. Holy crap, free alcohol was most definitely a bonus right now. The flight attendant was eyeing me in a way that told me I was failing miserably in masking my discomfort.
The only thing worse than flying was being forced to be near Reid. Add the two things up and it was more than I could handle.
Christine d'Abo © 2015