Same/Difference (The Depth of Emotion #4) Read Online Free Page A

take a walk with him after breakfast just so he could get her alone. Everything was going well until he ran into an obstacle, a guy named Blake Matthews.
    When Blake arrived he acted like Paige was a claim he’d staked, and Falcon was unsure if he was treading on someone else’s territory. When he asked Carter about it he said that as far as he knew they were just friends, but to be on the safe side he asked Paige as well. She assured him that there was nothing between them. Blake, however, seemed to have a different opinion.
    Falcon didn’t want to put a damper on the weekend, or make a scene at his friend’s house, so he proceeded with caution. They had a good time for the rest of the weekend but he kept an eye on Blake. Once the festivities were over everyone kissed and hugged and went their separate ways, promising to stay in touch. A week went by before he asked again about the relationship between the two and Carter again assured him there was nothing.
    The New Year came and went and Falcon fully intended to call her. She’d written her number on the back of a business card for him and discreetly slipped it into his pocket. He sat it on the table beside his bed. His plan was to call her after the first of the year but business exploded. The MarSin Falcon reputation was spreading in a good way and he, Marc, and Carter had more work than they had hours. He fell into bed most nights but the business card reminded him every evening that she was someone he wanted to know better. As the days passed his phone call to Paige became another thing on his “to do” list. Life just kept getting in the way.
    Until today.
    When he was young his mom always talked about “signs.” If this happened, it was a sign; if that happened it was a sign. A “sign” usually preceded anything that was supposed to happen. Maybe this was the kind of stuff she was talking about. Like, really, what were the chances of them being in Vegas, in the same hotel, at the same time?
    Must be a sign.
    Memories of his mom’s signs of fate made him chuckle to himself. What the hell? A sign? It was staring him right in the face. Fate was intervening and was giving him a license to get her personal information. After all, what good was it to be a resourceful man if you couldn’t use your resources?
    As time went by he thought he’d never see her again and here she was. Heaven was giving him a second chance to be a nice guy and, maybe, get to know this woman. Who knew? She might be a good influence on his sorry ass. She sure as hell couldn’t make him any worse.
    Must be a sign.

 
     
    S pending time with Liz was always fun, but my feet were killing me. I couldn’t wait to stand under a hot shower. Although I was still relaxed as I strolled through the lobby of my hotel I wasn’t sure if the buzz in my head was from the noise of the machines or the residual effect of the Mojitos. Unlike the quiet of home, the Vegas environment was nothing but activity. Bells rang, machines chirped and whooped, and music played everywhere. It was exactly what I needed; a welcome change from my overextended existence. I loved my work but sometimes it could really be a pain in the ass. The pressure mounted when twenty-some contracts were going on at the same time. To say that it was chaotic would be an understatement and stress was not my friend. The headaches I got as a result always felt like a vise was around my head—and when I was doing too much and not getting enough sleep it became overwhelming, and it got nasty. A caustic pattern would emerge. My focus turned inward and I started mentally checking off boxes of self-incrimination. It wasn’t healthy, mentally or physically. It would graduate from perfectionism with my work and trickle all the way down to berating my personal life. Most of the time the professional part of my introspection was much more forgiving than the personal one. That part started as innocently as making sure my outfit was well put