She looked up to his throat, only inches from her lips. She wanted to kiss it, to wrap her arms around his large body and have him hold her. To hold him. It was so cold she could see her breath. So cold their breaths mingled together, and for some reason, she stepped closer.
She wasn’t sure if it was his warmth that drew her in. The heat that radiated from his muscles and bones. Or if it was the pain in his eyes. It seemed to say a thousand words all on its own. That he was sorry, that he was scared, too. But it wasn’t an average “I’m sorry.” It was a sorry from a man who carried the world on his shoulders—who took the blame for everything, even when it wasn’t his fault. Her mind screamed to move away. To not get too close to the man who had shattered her heart after only one night, to get away before it was too late, but she couldn’t. She craved to be close to him, even though she knew it would bring nothing but pain to too many people.
He placed his hand on her hip, wrapping his fingers around her lower back and exerting pressure. As though he needed her just as much as she needed him. As though he’d given up on resisting her and the gravity that pulled them together.
She lifted her chin, knowing it was wrong, but knowing she couldn’t stop it. Whatever was between them was stronger than her will. Stronger than her conscious. But as their lips touched for the briefest moment, a set of dull headlights began to shine in the distance. As though a higher being had rushed in to save her from herself.
Tristan turned around, clearing his throat as if he himself had been caught in the same spell. He took his phone out of his pocket and waved it overhead. “Hey!” he yelled. “Hey! Over here!”
A moment later, down the long flat road, came a beat up old van with a million stickers on the windows. The door opened, and a woman with a large pregnant belly hopped down to the road. She rested her hands on her lower back, exaggerating the ripe, swollen shape, and shined a bright flashlight over their faces, blinding them.
“Now what in the devil’s name are you two doin’ all the way out here?”
16
Chapter Sixteen
Present Day
The woman’s name was Patty. They learned that soon enough. After a short game of twenty questions that Samantha wasn’t sure they won, and an interrogation of Tristan about how they ended up in this predicament, she agreed to take them back to her house where they could find warmth and sleep.
“It’s a good thing I stumbled upon you two.” She nodded. “I’m afraid the closest payphone is over a hundred miles away and we don’t have a cell tower yet. They say it’s coming, but I’m not holding my breath.”
She waited for them to gather their things, while Samantha and Tristan thanked her profusely for her generosity. There were two sleeping toddlers snoring away in the back seat, though Patty looked to be no more than twenty-five. It was odd—seeing someone so close to her own age with a growing family. One the woman seemed proud and protective of.
Tristan took their bags from the trunk, while Samantha gathered her purse and tried to recover from their almost kiss. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Wished she could rewind the last ten minutes and have more self-control.
Samantha approached the oversized van a moment later, where Tristan helped her into the front seat and handed her the seat belt.
“We’ll be okay,” he whispered in her ear. “I promise.”
She knew he was talking about the car, about being stranded right before the wedding, although she couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking about more. She took the seat belt from his hand, thankful for the darkness so he couldn’t read all insecurities on her face. Right now they were out there for everyone to see, and she couldn’t put them away, because for the first time in six years, she began to question what she was doing with her life. With Steven. If she could feel so much for a man she hadn’t seen in half a decade, how could she even think about a future with Steven?
Tristan moved away a moment later, allowing her the space to breathe. The Jackson Five’s “ABC” was playing on the radio, and Samantha turned to look out the window. Tristan climbed into the back seat, putting their backpacks to the floor, and settling himself between the two car seats. He seemed oddly comfortable there, even though his broad shoulders hardly fit. But he was always like that. Always comfortable. Never complaining—so unlike Steven.
Steven. She couldn’t help but cringe at the thought of him. He was honest, hardworking, and didn’t deserve this. He was meeting her in NY on Friday, and this needed to stop. Whatever this was, whether curiosity, or an unfulfilled girlhood fantasy, it would end here. She wouldn’t risk their relationship. She wouldn’t risk her heart.
Closing her eyes, she tried to force all the emotions from her body. But the fact was, a simple touch from Tristan caused lightning bolts to shoot through her limbs. A simple touch from Tristan made her ache for more. A touch from Tristan wasn’t easily forgotten.
The road ahead became dark and twisty, making Samantha’s stomach roll with nausea. Either that or from the speed at which Patty navigated the narrow path so easily. Patty’s large belly was pressed against the steering wheel, and her eyes were focused on the path ahead, but neither stopped her from talking.
“Ya’ll are lucky,” she said to Samantha, glancing over from the corner of her eye. “Really lucky.”
She clucked her tongue, then turned down the radio and continued to ramble. “I don’t normally come out this way so late at night. It’s only because Mr. Miller had a heart attack last week, and I had to check on the cattle. That’s the only reason.”
Samantha nodded her head, though Patty must have noticed her increased discomfort, because she quickly slowed the van.
“What brings you ’round these parts anyway?” she asked, almost as a distraction technique.
Samantha swallowed, hoping the action would calm her stomach. “My best friend is getting married,” she answered. “We’re on our way to New York.”
“Yeah?” Patty grinned. “Are you the maid of honor?”
“Yes. Though I haven’t seen the dress yet.” She smiled.
“I bet you’d look beautiful,” Patty said softly. Then she glanced in the rearview mirror to look at Tristan. “Don’t you agree?”
He didn’t hesitate a second. “Stunning.”
Samantha looked down to her feet, realizing that, just like everyone else, Patty thought they were a couple. She didn’t blame her, given the scene she’d pulled up upon. Samantha would have thought the same thing.
They continued talking. About everything and nothing. About the town. The people who lived there, and when they finally turned off a bend, Samantha’s stomach had settled quite a bit. “I should have gone out hours ago,” Patty confessed. “I’m ashamed to admit I got caught up in one of my shows again. The new season of Felicity was delivered this morning, and I plain lost track of myself.” She glanced over again, seeming pleased by Samantha’s condition, and gave her a nod of approval. “That happens a lot when Trevor’s gone.”