Chapter One
MERRY
“Thanks for picking me up from the airport, but I could have taken a cab.” I wheel my suitcase around my ex-husband’s Audi convertible, admiring the white two-seater sports car with its cream leather interior.
“Our son wouldn’t hear of it,” Alex says. “It was either him or me, but Finn has a suit fitting this morning.” Alex lifts my case, his biceps straining against his crisp cotton shirt. I don't miss how his cream trousers outline the muscles of his thighs as he rounds the car.
With a huff, he loads my case into the boot. “Damn, Merryssa. I thought you were only staying in Magnolia Point for a week?”
My brow furrows. “I am. Look, if my case is too big for your convertible, I can call a cab.” I clutch my purse as I dig my fist into my hip. This man lost the right to complain about my luggage twenty years ago.
He gives me a glare. “I told you Finn wouldn’t hear of it.” With a clenched jaw, he opens the passenger door. “Get in.”
I tighten my lip, strutting around to the open door. “Only because you asked so nicely.” My voice laced with sarcasm, I slide into the seat. It’s incredibly low and I wonder how I’m going to get out of it. I may as well be sitting in the footwell.
He slips into the driver’s side with ease and turns the engine over. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the sun shines on the faded ink beneath the hairs on his forearms.
Two decades after divorce, I thought he would have tattooed over our wedding date in roman numerals on his skin, but it's still there, now dull and grey, like our relationship.
The cream leather squeaks as I shuffle in the seat, tugging at the hem of my dress, willing it lower now Alex is in close proximity. The sheer tights I'm wearing do little to hide the blue veins above my knees.
I don’t normally worry about these things. Growing old is a privilege some don’t get to experience, but seeing how good Alex looks at fifty has me questioning my life choices. It must be the southern lifestyle out here with the fresh sea air. A complete contrast to the pollution in London.
“You okay there?” he asks, glancing over as I hold my dress in place at the knee. His foot pushes against the accelerator and I’m pinned in my seat.
I struggle to get comfortable, but I’m not sure if it’s being so close to Alex or the car making me unsettled. “Couldn’t you have picked me up in the SUV?”
“It’s getting a service.” He settles back into his seat now we’re on the highway. “What’s wrong with this car, anyway?”
I take in the ostentatiousness. “A little young for you, don’t you think?”
“Who?” Alex says in a gruff tone.
“The car, but now that you mention it, Finn said you were dating someone the same age as him.” I roll my eyes, not sure who I’m more embarrassed for, Alex or our son. It makes sensewhy he’s got the car and the buff body to go with it. He’s reliving his youth or going through some sort of midlife crisis.
His grip tightens on the steering wheel just as his foot floors the accelerator. “We broke up.”
“Oh.” I cling to the seat beneath my chunky thighs as we pick up speed, driving down the highway with nothing but dry land stretched out in front. “I’m sorry,” I say, but can’t help the smile from spreading across my face.
“No, you’re not.” Alex glances my way for a second before looking back at the road ahead. “You were never a great liar. After working in parliament for years, I expected your poker face to be better.”
“All right, maybe I am gloating a little.” I relax, enjoying the cool wind in my face. Though I'm sure he has the top down just to show off. “Could she not handle dating an old man?”
Alex chuckles to himself. “She couldn’t handle a real man, no.” He glances my way for a second again, his eyes darker this time, and I’m suddenly aware of the wind pressing my silk blouse against my chest, outlining the lace underneath and my pebbled nipples from the breeze.
I straighten my spine and inhale a deep breath of winter sea air. “Maybe you need a real woman.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I regret it. I’m here for our son’s wedding and nothing more. I shouldn’t be flirting. Least of all with my ex-husband.
There’s a reason we split up, but despite our divorce, we’ve kept things civil for the sake of our son. While we’ve co-parented amicably, it’s not been without its difficulties, clash of opinions, and heated phone calls. And by heated, I don’t mean hot. Our phone-sex days ended when Finn was born.
“Is that an offer?” He slows the car as he takes a slip road.
My eyes widen, but it’s not fear. I’m shocked at my body’s reaction to him after all these years. Usually, the only hot flushesI get are from night sweats, but one flash of his dark stare and the pulse between my legs comes alive.
“Cat got your tongue? What’s up, Merry? It’s not like you to be quiet.”
“Please. This journey will go a lot smoother if you just drive.” I look out at the palm trees lining the road now that we’re off the highway. Anything to distract me from this man.
It must be the change in climate that has my body out of sorts. Maybe the holiday and love in the air with my son’s impending wedding. Yes, that’s it. Definitely not the moody fifty-year-old driving a convertible.
