Free My Favorite Mistake by Stephanie Bond Page A

self-control is precisely how you wound up married to a virtual stranger in the first place. I conjured up a casual smile that belied my quaking insides. “It’s nice to see you, too.”
    His amazing smile diminished, and I felt a little indignant. Had he expected me to throw myself into his arms and tel him that I’d fantasized about his lovemaking for the better part of three years? The words watered on my tongue before I swal owed them, disgusted with myself. Two minutes into our reunion and I was already unglued.
    I averted my glance and was pul ed back to the present by the noise of the traffic and jostling pedestrians. It occurred to me that standing outside the airport was a very public place to be seen with a handsome man that my boyfriend had no knowledge of. While the likelihood of someone seeing us was remote, it could happen, considering how much Barry
    and his col eagues traveled. Panic crushed me for a few seconds while I looked from face to face, expecting any second for someone to recognize me. I cast around for a good reason to get moving. “Hungry?” I asked.
    Redford grinned. “Always.”
    I chose not to read anything into his words. “Okay, let’s drop your luggage off at the hotel, then we’l grab a bite to eat.”
    We joined the line at the taxi stand and I shifted from foot to foot, aware of his eyes on me, trying to think of something to say. The next five days stretched before me like an emotional obstacle course.
    “You look different,” I said, then gave a nervous little laugh. “I don’t know why, but I almost expected to see you in your uniform.”
    He shrugged. “I just traded one hat for another, I guess. You look different, too.”
    A warm blush crawled over my cheeks. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble recognizing me.”
    “Oh, you stil stand out in a crowd,” he said, making me more uncomfortable. “You just seem…more buttoned-up.”
    His teasing tone needled me. “Just more mature, I suppose,” I said.
    He made a face. “That’s too bad.”
    I bit my tongue, mostly because I didn’t know how to respond. I hadn’t expected to be so overwhelmed with resurrected feelings. It was surreal—I knew him, but I didn’t know
    him. We’d been married…then not.
    “So you stil don’t own a car?” he asked, gesturing to the taxi stand.
    “More trouble and expense than it’s worth,” I assured him, knowing how bizarre not owning a vehicle seemed to people who lived in less dense areas. “Besides, I either walk or
    take public transportation everywhere.”
    He looked me up and down and a smile lit his black eyes. “So that’s how you’ve managed to stay in such great shape.”
    My thighs pinged, but I reminded myself that his wife probably wouldn’t be thril ed knowing that he was complimenting his ex. Then a disturbing thought hit me—was Redford a
    ladies’ man? Was he thinking that this IRS audit was the chance to reunite with an old flame and stoke the fire a little? I looked at Redford with dismay—had he changed so much? Then another possibility struck me—maybe he hadn’t changed at al …maybe I had simply misjudged him when I’d known him.
    “Are you okay?” he asked, placing his hat back on his head.
    “Fine,” I said, resolved that I wouldn’t let Redford’s powerful sexuality entice me into making another mistake. I stepped up in the taxi line, relieved to see we were next. “Did you make reservations at the hotel I suggested?” I asked, back to a safer topic.
    He nodded and stepped off the curb, then walked around to the back of the taxi. Brushing off the cabbie’s offer of help, he deposited his leather duffel bag in the trunk himself and closed the lid. “But would you mind if I run a quick errand first?”
    Bewildered, I shrugged. “No, of course not.”
    He handed the cabbie a piece of paper, then held the door open for me to slide in the back seat first. I scooted as close to the opposite door as my bulky coat would al ow, but