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cool facade. He knew when to flirt, look innocent, and work every bit of his charm to misdirect and keep women from looking any deeper. But she wasn’t sure she was the right woman to make the discovery; after all, she wasn’t sure of herself. She knew she was in way over her head, but Reed didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
    And she couldn’t help but wonder why he was so interested — hanging out for days and days in her shop, meeting her in Audubon Park, wanting to go to dinner so badly. No man had pursued her for so long, so persistently. She was usually good at pushing men away. Virtually all of them would give up after a try or two, and she’d never see or hear from them again. For some reason, Reed was different, his intentions a total mystery. It was unnerving and exciting. It made her feel good. She smiled slightly inside.
    Then out of nowhere, the lightning took over. The room suddenly began to spin, her heart racing like a jet plane. She gripped her chest, trying to control her breathing, and saw her hands begin to shake, seemingly moving on their own, the pie crust cracking in her hands. She grew dizzy and squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head, feeling it coming on, wishing it wasn’t, trying to gain control, not wanting to slip back to that night.
    But the strikes always brought her back, the old memory made new again, the attack from behind. She threw her hands over her ears, hearing the thunderous screams, her own fierce, guttural cries, unheard and unanswered. The room spun again, and the lightning came closer this time, hitting harder, his dirty hand jamming her mouth, choking her, gagging her, muffling her screams. She grabbed her locket seeing the blood, the disgusting taste of metal mixed with salty tears, a momentary victory jolting her to fight on. But the jolt didn’t last. It was as empty as the darkness.
    Then it was over.
    Peyton brought her hands to her face, trembling, holding back tears, the struggle in her mind as hopeless as the struggle with him. With years of therapy, the flashbacks came less often, but they still came and worst of all, came whenever they damn well pleased, to do their unholy work, to leave behind pain and disappointment and a pounding headache. She looked down at the dough, crumpled and twisted. She sprinkled a touch of flour before submerging her hands again, telling herself not to grip too hard, her life always such a delicate dance.
    * * *
    It had been a long day. Peyton came out of the kitchen rubbing her scar, finding Reed at his usual table fidgeting on his phone. She felt her nerves calm slightly seeing him there, wondering how this confessed playboy could ever be so calming, so dependable. She offered him a tired smile then bent down to a display case.
    Reed sensed she wasn’t quite herself, her face drawn, not appearing as strong as she was in the morning. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss away whatever was bothering her.
    The happy bell jingled, and Peyton came up to see a tall, blue-eyed blond with a cute smile and dimples, perfectly suited to model boxer briefs in some high-end fashion magazine. Her face brightened. “Griffin!”
    Reed’s eyes flew to the entrance. Griffin Dupussy.
    “I had no idea you were coming!” Peyton shrieked, skipping around the counter, throwing her arms around Griffin who leaned into her neck, inhaling deeply.
    It took every ounce of strength for Reed to keep his lunch down. And he couldn’t help but notice a raven-haired beauty a few steps behind Griffin, equally disgusted by what she was seeing, decked in a sharp, navy dress with red shoes.
    Peyton released Griffin and pulled the woman into her arms. “Stephanie, you look so great! Please don’t tell me you got off the plane looking like that!”
    Stephanie gave a tight smile. “Some of us have to try harder than others. We all don’t look adorable in baseball caps.”
    Griffin gave his girlfriend a warning frown and gently removed Peyton’s cap,