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He had her at “hello again...”
After the prom night accident that had stolen the innocence of his small lakeside hometown, Jack Llewellyn had run. The guilt—especially facing his high school sweetheart, Arlie Gallagher—had been too much. Now he had no choice. He was back in town, and on Arlie’s radar.
Arlie couldn’t believe that after all these years, she still had him under her skin. He was such a changed man...a responsible business owner, a single parent. Would he understand the changes she’d gone through, the secrets she lived with? She was ready to forgive him but was he ready to forgive himself? And did they have to say goodbye this time?
He loved her face.
When he touched her, trailing his forefinger down the sweet line of her cheek, he was surprised at the strength of his emotional response. He wanted to be Rhett Butler or Mr. Darcy or at least one of Louis L’Amour’s Sacketts and take her in his arms. Maybe carry her up a flight of stairs since the Dower House had such a nice wide set. This wasn’t a book and he was definitely no hero, but he wanted to protect her from all harm, to lend peace to her soul tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.
Regret worked its way inexorably into his thoughts. Regret because they didn’t have tomorrows.
But they did have now. He lowered his mouth to hers, keeping the kiss light, almost friendly. But more.
I’ve never written with a partner, although I kind of envy those who do. How cool would it be to have someone cover for you on those days when every word you write needs to be unwritten as quickly as possible! However, when I started Every Time We Say Goodbye and I couldn’t seem to name anything, the then-mayor of a town near me, friends on Facebook and Cole Porter took care of that for me. I’d never been in flag corps, cheerleading or marching band, so more friends lent me some of their considerable knowledge. When it came time to choose a title, a genius in Marketing came up with Every Time We Say Goodbye. (I was completely torn between being in love with the title and being jealous because I didn’t think of it—love won. It always does.) My name is the only one on the cover, but a lot of other people helped “put music to my words.”
I hope you love Arlie and Jack’s story—and Miniagua and its residents—as much as I do.
Liz Flaherty
Every Time We Say Goodbye
Liz Flaherty
LIZ FLAHERTY retired from the post office and promised to spend at least fifteen minutes a day on housework. Not wanting to overdo things, she’s since pared that down to ten. She spends nonwriting time sewing, quilting and doing whatever else she wants to. She and Duane, her husband of...oh, quite a while...are the parents of three and grandparents of the Magnificent Seven. They live in the old farmhouse in Indiana they moved to in 1977. They’ve talked about moving, but really...thirty-seven years’ worth of stuff? It’s not happening!
She’d love to hear from you at [email protected].
MILLS & BOON
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Many thanks go to Jim Walker, who named Lake Miniagua, to the Facebook friends who named Wally and Caruso, and to songwriter Cole Porter, whose song titles made Miniagua such a fun place to write about. A special thanks to Joey Kubesch, who helped put the right names with the right businesses.
A few miles from our house, sitting smack in the middle of the cornfields, is a school campus containing grades K–12 plus preschool. It’s where my kids, some of my grandkids, and I all graduated from. It’s where my daughter and son-in-law teach. It is one of the safest, best, most loving places I know. It’s because of what I learned there that I grew up to write books—the best job in the world.
So it is to the past and present staff of North Miami Community Schools that this book, with my heartfelt gratitude, is dedicated. Go Warriors!
Contents
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE