Temptation on Ocean Drive - Jennifer Probst Page 0,36
down, nostalgia swept over her. It had never been the cotton candy that tempted her—always the salt.
“You look so happy right now,” he said, his voice warm. “You should let yourself indulge more.”
“Trust me, indulging in Funyuns is not the answer to self-care.” She shot him a grin. “But I wouldn’t say no to an occasional spa date or evening off.”
“How long have you been raising Zoe alone?” he asked quietly.
Usually, she’d pull back and distance herself from any personal questions. But the atmosphere was relaxed, and in this moment, she just felt like sharing. “Five and a half years. Matt died when she was three months old. Drunk driver hit him.”
“Was it local?”
“No, he was coming home from a business trip in Pennsylvania. I know it sounds awful, but everyone became obsessed with the lawsuit. How much money we’d get. Kept saying I deserved every penny to raise Zoe.”
“Money doesn’t replace life, but I can see how they felt you deserved compensation.”
“The driver died, too. One bad decision to drive after leaving a party, and two people lost their lives. I wasn’t about to pursue his family for a lawsuit when we’d all lost so much. I tried hating him for a while, but I couldn’t. I remember getting in a car with my friend when I was seventeen, knowing we were tipsy but feeling invincible. Later on, I realized how lucky we’d both gotten to not get into an accident or hurt anyone. The night Matt died, no one got lucky.”
“Emotions aren’t logical. You had every right to hate.”
She shook her head, caught half in the past. “Oh, how I wished I could hate back then. Instead, I fell apart. Became so numb nothing could touch me, not even Zoe.”
Suddenly, her cold hand was wrapped in warmth and a gentle strength that eased the tightness in her chest. “I’m so sorry, Bella, for what you and Zoe went through. But you’re here now, and when I watch you with Zoe, and what you manage to give her every day, I’m humbled.”
His words shattered through the chipped walls and tore down her defenses. She held his hand tight, closing her eyes against the rush of raw emotion that touched her deep down in her soul. The truth rang out in his voice and soothed the broken edges. The gesture meant more than he’d ever know, soothing the need of a mother to know she was enough for her child.
For the first time since Matt died, it was like a man saw her. And God, it felt good. Better than a compliment about her looks or talent or cleverness.
Slowly, she uncurled her fingers from his and pressed back against the window. The air in the car seemed to thicken with tension, both emotional and sensual. The feel of his skin against hers had burned an imprint into her palm.
Confusion swamped her. What was going on here? She’d never had these feelings toward Gabe. And why did his affection seem tinged with more than casual friendship?
She cleared her throat and tried to clear her head. “Thanks,” she finally managed. “Hey, what’s a car ride without music? Got anything good?”
A few beats passed. She held her breath, hoping he’d take her lead and lighten the subject. Their conversation had become too intimate. She wasn’t ready to confront her burgeoning physical attraction to him, let alone the safety she suddenly felt confessing secrets.
“Sure. Depends on your mood. We can go modern with Lizzo, country with Jake Owen, or old-school Jimmy Buffett.”
She popped another ring in her mouth and chewed, determined to put them back on track. “I say crank up ‘Margaritaville.’”
He did. They spent the next few hours singing out loud, telling bad jokes, and eating the rest of the snacks.
By the time he pulled up to her house, her stomach was protesting loudly. “I shouldn’t have finished the whole bag,” she moaned, crawling out the door.
“Do you have any TUMS inside? I can drop some off.”
She shook her head. “I have a five-year-old—my medicine cabinet is stocked. Thanks for driving and for the snacks and for—”
“You’re welcome.”
Their gazes met and locked. Something surged between them, hot and needy, and she took a step back on the pavement for safety.
“Bella?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for a perfect day. See you tomorrow.”
She didn’t respond. Just shut the door and went inside the house, where her real life was waiting.
Chapter Eight
Bella stared at the flowers on her kitchen table and wondered when things had changed.