Lindsey Cartwright didn't set out to become the Wicked Witch of Comics. But then she fell for hot-shot artist Kent Farrington. . .and got dumped. When he walked out, he left her with no explanation and zero sense of humor.
Kent knows he's got a hard road ahead if he wants to win Lindsey back. He'll need to catch her at the perfect time, in the perfect place. What could be better than the biggest comic book convention of the year?
WARNING: Nosy fans, extreme cinnamon buns and vulgar lemons.
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Lindsey turned her back to the table to give herself time to recover, away from the grueling scrutiny of the first visitors. Four years later and the memory of Kent still made her run hot and cold. Hot because her skin remembered his hands. Cold because her heart remembered coming home from work to find him gone, down to the last scrap of watercolor paper. His studio had looked like Whoville on Christmas morning. Nothing but a rime of dust on the carpet around where his drawing table sat and a note telling her he was sorry he wasn't the man she needed.
Lindsey spun around, her blood now running both hotter and colder. Her heart fluttered into her throat. That sultry voice had haunted her dreams for four years.
He stood on the other side of the table with his portfolio propped beside him. He'd pulled his raven's wing black hair back in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. His silver eyes studied her. Lindsey's mouth went dry while her palms started to sweat. She felt his eyes on her skin as surely as she had remembered feeling his hands. Heat began to gain on the cold lump in her stomach.
"Kent Farrington. Holy crap, Batman. How have you been?" Gary reached across the table to shake Kent's hand. He glanced at Lindsey. "It's been ages, hasn't it? I mean years."
"I came to see Lindsey," Kent answered a different question, managing to shake Gary's hand without breaking eye contact with Lindsey.
"No, you didn't," Lindsey snapped. Heat won out over cold as her blood shot to a boil. The sheer gall of the man, walking into the convention like he belonged here.
"Oh hey, that's right. You two used to be a thing." Gary glanced at Lindseyagain. Blinking out of her stupor, she saw he remembered that before she'd become the 'Wicked Witch,' she'd been the office 'Hot Babe.'
"Yes, Lindsey Lou Who, I did," Kent said smiling.
Lindsey scowled at his playing with her name. It had taken over a year and one very ugly editorial meeting before they'd stopped calling her Lindsey Hop. She didn't want Lindsey Lou Who to be the next fight.
"No. You did not." She stomped around the backdrop to hide. He couldn't come into this small square of privacy. It was only for employees, and Kent hadn't worked for her publisher in years. She'd made sure of that. She tried not to think about what his smile still did to her, but her thighs were already trembling. Her body was coated with a sheen of sweat almost in preparation for him. She scowled, her muscle memory seemed to recall him perfectly even if her heart had gone senile and forgotten the pain of his abandonment. A pain she struggled to remember.
"Sssst Lindsey," Amy, her assistant, whispered from a gap on the other side of the display. Her eyes were bright with excitement, which Lindsey assumed was from the presence of her boss's ex. "Is he really here?"
"Yes, he really is." Kent set down his portfolio and straightened.
Lindsey spun around. She should have known she wouldn't be safe here. He tugged his vest straight in what appeared to be a nervous gesture, but how likely was that? Kent hadn't been nervous since his first day of kindergarten. He might not have been nervous even then.
"What are you doing here?" Lindsey hissed.
"I came to talk to you." He stepped forward.
Lindsey tried to back up and bumped into a pile of freebie boxes. She could smell him from five feet away. Spice and sandalwood. Four years and he was still using the same cologne. His scent climbed into her brain and tried to drive out the last bit of fury she'd managed to cling to.
"It's a little late," she told him, using up the end of her anger.
"Lindsey, you're still the most incredible woman I've ever met." He closed the space between them before she could slip away. He put his hands on her shoulders, gazing into her eyes.
She hunched her shoulders, trying to distract herself from how good it felt to have him touching her again even if it was through two layers of clothing. "I understand it's very trendy to ditch the most incredible woman you've ever met these days."
Lindsey closed her eyes, trying to block out his nearness. That turned out to be a mistake. It left her open to other incursions.