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Rekindled Flames

Rekindled Flames

**Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter**

Alysha adjusted the strap of her reusable grocery bag, her heels clicking against the tiled floor of the local supermarket. At 45, she was a vision of confidence—curves that commanded attention, sharp hazel eyes, and a no-nonsense attitude honed by 25 years of marriage to Brian, a man who was more married to his out-of-town contracts than to her lately. She was used to the mundane, the routine of picking up organic kale and almond milk, but today, something felt... off. Electric. Like the air was charged with a memory she couldn’t quite place.

Then she saw him. Shayne. Her first everything—first kiss, first love, first heartbreak. He stood by the craft beer aisle, all broad shoulders and that same devil-may-care smirk she’d fallen for at 17. His dark hair was streaked with silver now, but those piercing blue eyes hadn’t changed a damn bit. Her breath caught, a traitor to her composed exterior.

“Well, damn, if it ain’t Alysha Carter,” Shayne drawled, his voice a low rumble that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. He stepped closer, a six-pack dangling from his fingers. “Or is it something else now? Married, I bet. Some lucky bastard snapped you up.”

Alysha squared her shoulders, refusing to let nostalgia—or the heat creeping up her neck—win. “It’s Alysha Reed now. And yeah, I’m married. Not that it’s any of your business, Shayne. What are you even doing back in town? Thought you swore you’d never set foot here again after... well, after us.”

He chuckled, a sound that was pure sin, and leaned against the shelf, his gaze raking over her like he was undressing her right there. “Couldn’t stay away forever, darlin’. And hell, running into you? Best damn surprise I’ve had in years. You look... fuck, you look better than ever.”

She rolled her eyes, but her pulse was a traitor, hammering away. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Shayne. I’m not the naive girl you left behind. I’ve got a life, a husband—”

“A husband who ain’t here, I’m guessing,” he cut in, stepping closer, his scent—leather and something dangerously familiar—invading her space. “I can see it in your eyes, Alysha. You’re bored. Hungry for something more than kale and quiet nights. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Her lips parted, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but the truth stung. Brian hadn’t touched her in months, hadn’t looked at her with anything resembling desire in years. And here was Shayne, all raw energy and unfinished business, daring her to remember what it felt like to be wanted. Her fingers tightened around the bag, knuckles whitening.

“You’re wrong,” she lied, her voice steady despite the storm inside. “I’m perfectly fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

But Shayne wasn’t done. He reached out, his hand brushing her arm, a spark igniting where skin met skin. “Don’t run from me, Alysha. Not again. One drink. Catch up. For old times’ sake. I know you feel it too—this pull. It’s still there, isn’t it?”

Her resolve wavered, her body betraying her with a rush of heat between her thighs. She hated how right he was, how her mind was already racing with memories of his hands, his mouth, the way he’d made her feel alive. “One drink,” she said finally, her tone sharp, a challenge. “But don’t think for a second I’m that easy, Shayne. I’m not here to relive the past.”

His grin was predatory, promising trouble. “Oh, darlin’, I don’t want the past. I want right now. And I’m betting you do too.”

They left the store, the tension between them a live wire, crackling with every step toward the dimly lit bar across the street. Alysha knew she was playing with fire, but as Shayne’s hand brushed the small of her back, guiding her through the door, she felt the first flickers of a blaze she hadn’t known she’d missed. A blaze that was about to ignite into something wild, something unstoppable.

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