I shook my head, embarrassed that we were stilltalking about my walking problems and that he still held me so tightly in hisarms. “I’m sure I’ll remember how they work. Like riding a bike, yeah?”
The other corner of his mouth joined the first in agenuine smile. “Honestly? I have no idea.”
He finished setting me upright and moved his hands to myshoulders to make sure I was steady. “I would have come up to get you.”
I took in the chiseled lines of his jaw and his strongRomanesque nose, the subtle curl of his golden-brown hair. His strong, cordedneck looked so startlingly tan next to the white of his crisp oxford. “It’sokay,” I hurried to explain. “This is better.”
“Not ready for me to be up in your space?”
I shook my head. I was suddenly afraid that I’doffended him. Had I managed to ruin the night before it began?
That might set some kind of record.
“It’s okay,” he assured me smoothly. “I get it. You’rebeing a good mom.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and some of the panic thathad been threatening to choke me all night eased. I didn’t let anyone into myspace. Where Juliet and I lived was as much of a secret as I could manage it tobe. I used Maggie’s on the Mountain for my address for everything. Not even thedaycare had my real address. Phone number yes, but not place of residence. Iwasn’t listed in the phone book or on the internet. Frankie was the same way.We were not ever careless with where we lived.
We were just as vigilant about Juliet. Maybe people sawus around town, but I didn’t advertise our life for any reason. We only inviteda small, select group of people to get to know us—mainly it was just Maggie andJesse for me. Frankie had a couple friends at work, but nobody she would bringback to our apartment.
Jesse and I had eased gently into friendship andstayed there for two years before he started pursuing me so intently. I trustedhim as a friend. And I had tried to make sure we stayed firmly in the friendzone. But there was an attraction between us that I couldn’t deny anymore. AndJesse had obviously stopped denying it a while ago.
So here we were. On a date. He was looking better thanI had ever seen him. He was calm and so cool—like he always was around me.
And I was trying not to flail my arms and run aroundin circles like a chicken with her head cut off.
I was jumpy about relationships for good reasons. Myexperience with men was either highly manipulative and predicated on lies or itwas intensely codependent. When it came to men, I couldn’t trust myself to makesmart decisions.
Jesse was a nice guy, but even after our longfriendship, I still wasn’t sure I knew that much about him. As sweet as thingshad started with him, I couldn’t help but anticipate everything eventuallygoing south. I was a pessimist waiting for the sky to fall, for Jesse tofinally wake up and realize I wasn’t a catch—I was a walking disaster.
And I was an expert at running. Even if I stayed inFrisco, there were ways to run from Jesse and cut him out of my life entirely.
“Should we go?” he gestured toward his sleek black truckparked along the curb.
There was a short time in my life when I would haveturned my nose up at a truck like Jesse’s. I would have expected somethingsporty. Something insanely expensive. I was used to men obsessed with money andnice things and having everything they wanted. Legally or illegally, it didn’tmatter. I had been a part of a lifestyle that needed shiny things to provetheir value. And maybe I had bought into the lie too. But I was free of thatlife now. My attention had shifted to things that had meaning.
Like the heat of Jesse’s hand on my lower back as heguided me along the sidewalk and the heady scent of his cologne. I listened tothe low rumble of his smoky voice and let myself be present in thisconversation only.
Those were the things that mattered. For the next fewhours, those were the only things that mattered.
He opened the door for me and waited while I climbedup into the truck cab as gracefully as possible. I slid all the way in before heclosed the door behind me. When he had crossed in front of the truck and takenhis place in the driver’s seat, I finally found the courage to speak again.
“This is an interesting concept, yeah?Half-restaurant, half-gallery, half-bar.”
Art was my one weakness. It always had been.
And it always got me into trouble.
He smiled at the road as he drove thirty-five miles perhour through zero traffic. “That’s three halves.”
“This place must be magic then.”
He turned to stare at me for a long moment, the truckidling at a stop sign. “Magic, huh?”
I licked my dry lips and tried to breathe evenly.“Just an idea.”
“I like that idea, Caroline. And I like you. I’m gladyou finally said yes.”
“Me too.”
