Sophia was still fidgeting with her purse zipper, staring at her fingers, praying the tears wouldn't fall. When the first one tracked down the curve of her cheek, she met Everett's compassionate gaze.
When he wiped away her tear and pushed a flyaway strand of hair away from her eyes, Sophia explained the tears away as nothing but old ghosts coming back to haunt her. She told him her father dedicated the words to her mother at their wedding. She said this was the song her parents played on repeat while they danced in the living room when times were good.
What she didn't tell him was, out of all the songs in the world, this one reminded her she was replaceable.
The words were well-meaning and melancholy as they ripped into the air, taking her heartstrings with them. He hit the hook and Sophia’s mind drifted to the last time she saw her father and all the things she was willing to do to make him stay back then.
Over ten years had passed since Sophia heard the song. Her mom stopped playing it the day her dad left. The day he chose his shiny new life over Sophia and her mom. While he begged Sophia to believe his leaving could never weaken the love between a father and daughter, she knew better.
The hurt was written in her mother's eyes.
Luther belted about love bringing him and whoever he wrote the song about together, the rhythm faster now, her heartbeat faster still.
"How long has it been since you lost your dad?"
His tone let on that he thought Sophia's father died too, and she did nothing to correct the assumption. To Sophia, he died the day he left. He went away, and with him he took her mother's happiness, his money, and Sophia's innocence. He took the ability to deny the truth she'd been reminded of ever since: All good things come to an end.
As Everett drove, he found every way he could to continue touching her. A squeeze of the hand followed by interlaced fingers. Finally, lifting their hands to his lips to kiss the back of hers. Her skin blazed beneath every inch of his kiss.
When the truck came to a stop in front of the first commercial space on Southwest Broadway, Sophia gasped.
Her window was closest to the curb, and she was turned away from Everett, but she sensed him sliding near her, so close her back was against his chest. "How did you know?" she asked, her breath catching in a throat still thick with emotion.
She pushed all thoughts of her father to the back burner and let Everett's question about losing her father hang out there unanswered.
Luther's voice faded away, but his words stuck with her. The man she was with was so amazing. The empty storefront was the same place she visited with Julie. The same place she called Monroe Properties about when Mike answered the phone. She hadn’t seen the other two locations, and the warning signs were in plain sight, but already, deep down, her heart was set on this kitchy little spot.
Everett slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his chin into the crook of her neck. His body heat warmed her, his clean, fresh scent intoxicating. "You told me that day on the street. I was waiting to tell you until I got them down to a reasonable offer."
She could feel the stubbly tug of his beard on her face as the corners of his mouth curved up into a smile.
"So, what do you think?" he asked.
Her answer was undeniably in favor. Sophia twisted in his arms and met his smoldering eyes. Every nerve ending in her body danced with anticipation as her heart raced. Without another word, without thinking about what last night's kiss meant in the light of day, without second-guessing herself or the hidden meaning behind his lovely gesture, she closed the narrow distance between them and pressed her lips over his.
"All this talk about your food, it's making me hungry." Gently, Everett brushed his lips against Sophia's, lingering for the slightest moment as her eyes snapped open, warmth brightening their brown irises.
After the realtor left, Sophia and Everett stood outside the remodeled historic building, her small hand comfortably nestled within his. She leaned in close to him, and he could tell by the faraway look on her face she was imagining all the possibilities for her restaurant.
He, on the other hand, was still trying to figure out how they got here.
What am I doing? Why was he helping her put down roots here?
"I could eat," she said, oblivious to the war going on in his head.
"Good,” he said, helping her step up into the cab. “because I made us reservations at a nice quiet little place with a decent view. Might be a bit early since I didn't expect us to bypass the other two buildings altogether, but we should be fine."
He rounded the front of the truck, got in, fired up the engine and glanced over at her as he veered into the lane. She was watching him with those hopeful eyes, her back against the passenger door and her head leaned against the headrest. One knee was tucked up against her chest, and the other leg sort of hung open, her jeans hugged her long legs, and the simple green sweater seemed to snuggle against her curves, but she might as well have been lying there naked.
Fuck. Give me a break.
The temperature in the truck went up at least fifty degrees, and he could feel the heat crawling up his neck to his cheeks.
"Don't look at me like…" he trailed off, shaking his head. He stifled a low growl. "Am I supposed to be able to drive with you giving me those eyes? With you sitting there like…that?" He looked over at her again, and now the corners of her mouth were turned up.
"How am I looking at you?" she asked. It was an innocent question, but the low, husky way she said it was anything but vanilla. He never saw this side of her, this flirty, uninhibited version. And as much as he knew he needed to draw the line somewhere, his body seemed intent on crossing it.
Everett switched hands and steered with his left, freeing his right hand, he lifted the center console, configuring the layout into a three-seater bench. "Come over here next to me," he said, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. Out of nowhere easiness drifted down over them and he weaved his fingers together with hers.
He'd tell her soon—maybe today, over lunch.
The night in the nursery, Everett knew what he needed to do—the right thing to do. He went to Patton Place to find out her motives, Austin Harman's motives, for the house.
But what he found there was a broken woman who'd somehow latched onto to the walls around his heart and brought them crumbling down. As her eyes welled and she flushed, standing in the pale pink room, he couldn't unsee her—the woman behind the mask. Her lush lips, the tawny, blushed, high cheekbones framed by dark brown waves. Glowing, depthless dark eyes hiding all the hurt. Yet he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away. She was fragile and beautiful all at once. A colorful, mesmerizing mosaic of the pieces her father and her husband left scattered in their wake.
He'd wanted to tell her everything would be okay eventually. Assure her the numbness would soon wear off, and one day, though the pain would still be there, it would be dormant, and she wouldn't have to remind herself that others' mistakes didn't define her. Then again, he realized how much more lies hurt the longer they remained unspoken. And so, against the fiery urgency in his heart, he'd held her soft against his chest for a moment, kissed her head, and left.
With every intention of never going back, he let her go, determined not to be yet another person who hurt her. He meant to untangle her from his lies. That while he told himself he was fine, after a while she'd fade, too. Seeing her under the low lights of La Moule, then under the star-studded sky at the bridge, he couldn't let her go.
Once more, he kissed Sophia's hand and smiled at her, but she didn’t seem to notice his smile was frayed around the edges.
"So we have a little extra time?" Her soft voice crept into his thoughts. He watched her in his periphery. There was hesitation in her voice as she continued staring at him.
"Yeah. We can just drive slowly. It's nice out. I'll let you pick the music." As Sophia scrolled through the songs on his phone with her free hand, she scooted in closer to him. Suddenly, Steve Perry from Journey was crooning Faithfully.
Everett squeezed Sophia's hand. "Good choice."
For a moment, they both sat there listening to the song, the meaning and emotion, reveling in their closeness as the morning crowds moved in currents along the sidewalks. This was exactly what he wanted. The easy, quiet settling between two people, where there wasn't anything to prove. But even then the irony of it wasn't lost on him.
As Perry belted out the words, Sophia loosened her hand from his. This song did completely different things to her.
He flicked a glance at her replacing his hand on the wheel. "Everything okay?"
"Yes," she breathed. Her turbulent expression was centered on him now, the way it was the night on the bridge. And like he did then, he felt the same tightening of his muscles and the fire burning through him.
He’d been jealous of the wind and the rain getting to wash over her soft skin. He’d kissed her. Hurried and ravenous, he’d deepened it, allowing his worries to ebb away. A small voice inside warned him to stop, to tell her before they went any further, but he’d tuned it out then, instead choosing to listen to his body, the soft, tingling sensation pulsing over his skin. His racing heartbeat as it pounded in his ears. The hardening of his groin.
"Keep your eyes on the road, please," Sophia smiled at him.
Fire burned everywhere Sophia touched him, as every inch of his body relived how he felt on the bridge. He'd caressed the soft curves of her face and inhaled the tangy sweetness of her perfume and shampoo. As her hands dipped beneath his jacket, roaming untamed, he allowed his tongue to explore the depths of her hungry mouth.
Something dormant inside him surged to life that night. It was almost as if she awakened every nerve ending in his body. He'd forgotten what it was like to want, and to be able to have. He begged for his body to forget.
When Sophia got in his truck this morning, Everett pretended the feel of her soft, sweet lips didn't fill the long-standing void within him. He knew he didn't have the strength or the will to let her go again, so he stayed away.
Today, the plan was to renew his resolve to resist her, but the way she was looking at him now, his plan was shot to hell. Those warm ocean eyes darkened like a turbulent storm, and it was feeble to deny the magnetic force, the irresistible pull between them.
He felt it now, electric and insatiable.
"Both hands on the steering wheel please," she instructed. Her words were in direct contrast to the reserved, softhearted person he knew thus far. She sounded forceful and stern, despite the smile curling up the corners of her mouth. She also sounded a little ragged, the words hitching on her shallow breath.
Sophia was still watching him, but she was sitting ramrod straight. Slowly, she crawled her dainty fingers over his thigh and Everett released a surprised gasp. He wasn't sure whether to be shocked or overjoyed, but he stilled in place.
"So, it's safe to say this music gives you the feels, huh?" He quirked a nervous smile, but as she carefully eased down his pants zipper and dipped her blazing hand inside, all the humor was smashed to smithereens.
Everything Sophia knew about him was based on a lie, but with every second he was near her, it became clearer that the lie was so much better than the truth.