Right Moves Read Online Free Page A

and gloom of emotional attachments had cast its shadow on me, and I’d not returned his calls the next couple of days. He’d given up and had called Shelby Tyson a month or so later. They were currently expecting their third child, and Michael was hopelessly devoted to his family.
    I’d missed a good one, no doubt about it. A huge part of me didn’t want to miss another one, and Jack Reed felt like my second chance. I still wanted to believe in the notion of the one . Not that I’d had enough time with Jack at this point to think of him in those terms. But I wanted to keep the option open. I wanted to take advantage of this opportunity and see what transpired.
    Unfortunately, I still feared that even finding the one wouldn’t keep him from inevitably leaving me.
    Of course, I hated that thought as it popped into my head. Negativity begets negativity, and I preferred to run in the opposite direction.
    In order to calm my nerves, I resigned myself to accepting I was making way too much out of a first date with Jack. But the thing was…I’d known other men over the years who’d wanted to ask me out, yet who had easily read the silent signals that told them I didn’t want them to. I suspected there’d been no such signal resonating from me when I’d met Jack, and that’s what had encouraged him. I wanted to continue encouraging him—and maybe leave my negativity behind me for good.
    So I didn’t change the dress. With a somewhat steadier hand, I glided the wand of neutral-colored gloss over my lips, pinned my long strawberry-blonde hair at the nape of my neck, leaving a few loosely curled tendrils here and there, and tucked the essentials into my small clutch. Then I dug the silver strappy sandals I hadn’t worn since last year out of the closet and slipped into them. I was ready when the driver arrived and rang the bell, and I let exhilaration over seeing Jack push out insecure thoughts about me not being enough for him.
    The drive to Jack’s wasn’t a lengthy one, since I lived below the elevated Troon North area in Grayhawk Estates. The house the Town Car pulled in front of was a phenomenal one, made primarily of glass with medium-colored wood accents. It was stunning and my nerves kicked into high gear again as I ascended the steps to the wide, open deck. The sudden return of my tension and apprehension confirmed I had more of a thing for Jack than casual interest. This was not the kind of place to intimidate me, breathtaking though it was. But it was Jack’s house and that was what made my knees nearly knock together.
    I fought the natural compulsion to nibble my lower lip as I pressed the buzzer alongside the glass door. Behind the immaculate panes, I saw guests mingling beneath the elaborate chandeliers. The decor was crisp and clean, with white furniture to complement the polished hardwood floors. A wide suspended split staircase led to the second floor. I could see through the living room all the way out to the back deck. The house would have seemed monumentally short on privacy were it not set in such a secluded and prestigious area, and gated with a security code for access.
    A server carrying a tray with three glasses of champagne balanced on it opened the door and greeted me with a crystal flute.
    I accepted the offering as I stepped inside. I spotted Jack immediately, engrossed in conversation with a few notables from the Phoenix Cardinals. I caught his eye and he grinned, lifting his chin in acknowledgement. I gave a quick wave of my fingers as my stomach fluttered and a smile became permanently tattooed on my lips.
    I turned away so he could finish his conversation without feeling obligated to leave his guests and come rushing over to me. There were plenty of hors d’oeuvres being passed around, so I lifted a toothpick speared through duck rumaki from a silver tray and wandered about, taking the place in. I stopped at a media center tucked into one of the far corners and my eyes narrowed on a