Her pregnancy and the first eighteen months of her son's life had been hard, harder than anything that had come before-which was saying something for a girl who'd lived out of a car or a motel for most of her childhood.Īlthough she'd known when she decided to return to Whiskey Creek that she might bump into Aaron, and had tried to prepare herself for that moment, her eyes locked with his as if he held a high-powered magnet that drew them there against her will. It'd been two years since she'd seen him, and almost the same length of time since she'd shared his bed. He was standing off to one side, looking right at her. Maybe she'd subconsciously recognized his voice amid the babble of the others, or there really was such a thing as a sixth sense, because when she turned and glanced across the crowded room, she confirmed what her body had already told her.
Presley Christensen could tell by the prickle that skittered up her spine.
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