Excerpt of Don't Say Maybe by Cindy Kirk

Nyla Driskill left work at six. Instead of having the driver take her to Silver Creek, she had him drop her off in front of Ryan O’Brien’s. The Irish pub had long been a favorite of hers.

She hadn’t been here since she’d brought her former boyfriend the one time. Though Kendall was a self-made man—something Nyla admired—instead of being proud of that fact, he had put on airs.

He hadn’t appreciated the bar’s warm, community feel or its working-class clientele. He’d pronounced the place pedestrian, and they’d left after one drink. That arrogance was only one of many reasons she was glad to be rid of him.

As it was a Wednesday and relatively early, the bar held only several regulars. After one quick glance at her options, Nyla moved to a small table by the window. The day was bright and sunny, and she wanted to soak up the warmth.

The server, a pretty young woman with red hair, dropped off a basket of bar mix and took her order, returning less than a minute later with a glass of whiskey.

As she took a sip, Nyla’s thoughts drifted back to her recent trip to Paris. Her time there had gone far differently than planned. The vacation was supposed to have been a last-ditch attempt to save a relationship that had been on the brink of failure for months.

When Kendall had used a ridiculous excuse to cancel the night before they were to leave, she’d made it clear to him that whatever they had was over.

The last-second cancellation had been the final straw in a series of disappointing behavior. The next morning, she’d boarded a plane to Paris. Alone.

She hadn’t been alone for long. Her lips curved. Then she remembered the complications, and the smile faded.

“This is a nice surprise.”

Nyla’s heart skipped a beat as she looked up into the handsome face of Deron Flock.

Without waiting for an invitation, Deron dropped into the chair opposite her. Longish, dark blond hair spilled over his collar. His smile, warm and inviting, had her smiling back.

In that moment, Nyla admitted to herself that she’d missed Deron. Her return from Paris might have been only a week ago, but the time they’d spent together in the City of Lights seemed a lifetime away.

“I wish we were back in France.” Reaching across the table, he took her hand, playing with her fingers. “Spending days…and nights together.”

She’d bumped into Deron while checking into her hotel. She’d been feeling blue about the demise of her relationship with Kendall. Even though she’d known in her heart it was for the best, the fact that he cared so little for her stung.

Seeing Deron had been a breath of fresh air.

They’d explored the city like college students on their own for the first time, enjoying the palaces, monuments and churches and devouring wonderful meals ranging from amazing crepes to delicious cassoulets. Every night, they would stroll hand in hand along the Seine before returning to the hotel to make love.

Long ago, when she and Deron had been teenagers in Silver Creek, they’d forged a friendship, and even exchanged a few kisses, despite their family’s opposition. Pressures from their parents and being sent to different colleges had squashed the budding romance.

It had been different in Paris. They were adults. And their feuding families were an ocean away.

Her second night in the city, Deron had moved into her hotel room. He’d remained there until they checked out, a full week later than she originally planned.

When Deron’s thumb began to caress the palm of her hand, desire surged. Nyla jerked her hand back.

“What happened in Paris stays in Paris,” she reminded him.

Deron expelled an exaggerated breath. “It doesn’t have to—”

“It does.” Nyla spoke sharply to cover the urge to agree. “You know that as well as I do.”

His warm brown eyes searched hers.

“Let me take you to dinner.” His tone turned persuasive. “A meal and conversation. I’ve missed our conversations.”

As had she, Nyla admitted to herself.

“I can’t.” She shook her head even as regret wrapped around her heart and squeezed tight. “It has to be over. You and I, we can’t be involved.”

“I’ve missed you, Ny.” He gave a little chuckle. “I think about you all the time.”

“Well, you’ve ruined cafés au lait for me. I can’t order one without thinking of you.”

Since she’d returned to Denver, mornings had been especially difficult. In Paris, she and Deron had rolled out of bed whenever they felt like it.

Pulling on luxurious hotel robes, they’d sat across from each other in the suite, each drinking café au lait from a large bowl while enjoying tartine, bread slathered with butter and jam.

They’d talked about literature, art and current events. Everything had been open for discussion, except business. Those days had been amazing, refreshing and hands down the best two weeks of her life.

When she’d accepted his dinner invitation that first night, she’d known she was playing with fire. She’d never thought she was in danger of losing her heart.

The embers of that long-ago spark, first fanned at seventeen, had ignited. Deron had been in Paris on business, but his meetings had concluded the day she arrived. They’d gone into a vacation fling with their eyes wide open, accepting that this time together was all there could ever be between them.

Her family despised his, and his hated hers. Neither she nor Deron was foolish enough to believe that would change.  

Pushing back her chair with a clatter, Nyla forced herself to stand. She avoided Deron’s soft brown eyes as she grabbed her coat and purse.

He didn’t stand or try to stop her.

Nyla told herself she was grateful he didn’t urge her to stay. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from turning back to meet his gaze one last time.