The Traveling Woman (The Traveling Duet #2)
by Jane Harvey-Berrick
THE CONCLUDING STORY of Aimee and Kestrel, begun in THE TRAVELING MAN....
How many times do you gamble on love? When love has knocked you down, should you give it another chance? When does optimism become stupidity?
And what happens when the man you’re in love with is never still, always moving, always traveling? Do you say goodbye, or do you leave behind everything that you’ve worked for, everything that you’ve ever known? Can a traveling carnival be my home?
Oh. You thought I had the answers. No, sorry. No answers, just a lot of questions—and a heart that wants to rule my head.
Can one person be my home?
I stopped suddenly and Gregg all but ran me over, knocking my purse from my arm and making me stumble.
“Really, I can explain about Lulu,” he babbled, but I wasn’t listening to him.
I was staring at the man on the other side of the parking lot, his silver-gray eyes fixed intently on me.
“Kes,” I breathed, my heart starting to gallop.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wondering briefly if I’d fallen over the edge of sanity and conjured him up, imagined that he’d come for me. But when I looked again, his eyes were still watching me, full of fire.
Gratitude, hope, love, shock—so many emotions twisted inside me.
He was leaning against an electric-blue motorcycle and a plain black helmet dangled from one hand. A leather jacket hung from his broad shoulders, his long legs encased in dark denim and ending in heavy black biker boots. He looked dangerous, and when he pushed his free hand through his dark hair and straightened up, his heated eyes never left mine.
He was here. Really here. For me.
My body hungered for his and my arms longed to reach out for him. The words ‘I love you’ burned on my tongue, but I bit them back.
He was here, but I needed to know what it meant. So I locked my heart away. Kes still had secrets.
But he’s here! My happy heart screamed.
His eyes swept up and down my body and a pulse of heat washed over me as color rose in my cheeks.
But then his eyes narrowed slightly as he lasered in on Gregg, and I could see the rage boiling up inside him.
“Oh shit,” I said softly as Kes stalked toward us.
I pulled my purse back onto my shoulder and glanced at Gregg who was still talking. Finally, he noticed Kes striding over and his eyebrows lifted with surprise. But it was Kes who spoke first.
“Can we talk?”
I stared at him. “You want to talk? That’s new.”
He winced, regret and pain on his face, and glanced across at Gregg. “Am I too late?”
I met his eyes and spoke honestly.
I lived in London for over 10 years and have a love affair with New York. It's only since I have moved to the countryside, that the words have really begun to flow.
I live in a small village by the ocean and walk my little dog, Pip, every day. It’s on those beachside walks that I have all my best ideas.
Writing has become a way of life – and one that I love to share.
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