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With a sigh, I gently take her arm and pull her aside, where the tow truck driver can’t keep eavesdropping.
And I feel that spark.
Despite the rain and the cold and the layers of clothes between us, electricity buzzes at the contact between our skin. This is the first time in four years that I’ve touched her, and the current surges through me like zero time has passed.
I shove that awareness aside. “Listen. I one-hundred percent respect that you’re an independent woman, and I’m not trying to interfere with your decisions or play superhero. But pretending that you don’t need my help and going off with a creepy stranger in the middle of a monsoon does not make you an adult, Alana. It makes you a potential CSI storyline.”
“You’re being dramatic.” In contrast to her muttered words, she shivers visibly.
“Look at that guy. Are you really telling me that you’d rather spend the next who-knows-how-long on the road alone with him? You’d rather do that than just drive with me to the wedding?” Wow. That actually hurts. Like a screwdriver straight through the chest.
She drops her eyes to the road, licking her tongue over her bottom lip as she considers the situation.
Goddammit, this woman is stubborn.
“Look—I’m willing to put all our baggage aside in the name of making sure we both get safely to our destination.Thatis being an adult, if you ask me.”
Alana’s eyes rise to mine. Through wet lashes, she examines my face. I’m genuine. I hope she can see that. I think she does because she reluctantly concedes. “Fine…”
Jogging over to the tow truck driver, I dig my wallet out of my back pocket. I hand over Jasper’s business card. “Drop the car off at this mechanic and put it under Davis Westbrook’s name. They’ll see that you’re paid.”
I don’t wait for a response as he glances back toward Alana in disappointment. Too fucking bad for him. Creep.
I take a minute to call for help again. The road is partially blocked and there are wires all over the place. This could be dangerous for anyone traveling on this road.
While we wait for the authorities to arrive, I help Alana grab her purse and suitcases from her SUV.
My body tenses up when I see it—the small pink suitcase with the floral pattern across the front. The night she left me comes rushing back into my head. That screwdriver twists deeper inside my chest.
Thankfully, the first state trooper arrives on the scene right then, distracting me. Alana gives them an account of what happened before we climb into my warm, dry Jeep.
She watches through my rearview mirror as the tow truck slowly takes off in the opposite direction with her car hitched to the back.
“You ready?” I ask, drawing her attention back to me.
She nods tremulously. “Ready.”
Not sure I could say the same.Shit.
Now that we’re here in my car, the pit in my stomach doubles in size. I try my best to take a deep breath but the lemon and lavender scent of her perfume fills my head. Alana always used to claim that the fragrance neutralized the pet odors from the clinic. I wouldn’t know. She always smelled delicious to me.
I’m doing my best to keep from fidgeting but it’s tough. In the past four years, I haven’t been alone with her for longer than it takes to hand over a box or switch out our keys or run in the opposite direction. The idea of being with my ex-wifealonefor the next few hoursgives me a level of anxiety no amount of meditation and yoga and deep breathing can fix.
But despite how uncomfortable I feel, I’m just relieved that she’s safe. And I’m determined to do my best to not make this weird. As pissed off as I was when our marriage ended, I promised myself that I’d keep things amicable. That I’d go out of my way to make sure it wasn’t more painful for either of us than it had to be.
That’s why I lied to my family. I told them that the divorce had been my fault. I took all the blame. Even though I had no fucking idea why the love of my life suddenly stop loving me back.
Not now, Davis. Don’t go there.Now is not the time to go digging up old graves.
It’s silent in here, aside from the rain tapping the roof and Alana’s teeth chattering.
“Cold?” I ask, hesitant to even look at her.
“A little. I’ll be fine, though.” She forces a smile.
Yeah. Very convincing. Especially with the way her lips have turned blue.
After starting up the engine and turning up the heat, I reach into the backseat, feeling around until my hand lands on what I’m looking for. I hand Alana my cozy beige fleece-lined sweatshirt so she can warm up.
