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She was breathless as she told Michael about the day she’d finally landed in France itself. And somehow it had felt completely alien yet home.
For a little while, at least.
“Do you miss it?” he asked.
“Sometimes. Do you miss London?”
He blinked and looked away. “I don’t think so. I’ll be going back there soon, anyway.”
She swallowed and smiled, because it was okay. Her heart only hurt a little. “I guess you will.”
His eyes swept her face, but he said nothing. And she was glad, because she didn’t want to spoil this day with thoughts of the future. Not even thoughts of next week where she’d have to pass him in the street and not be able to touch him.
It was going to be so, so hard. Because right now they couldn’t stop touching each other. They were holding hands, or he was stroking her arm, or had his palm against her back.
Like he couldn’t stop himself. She liked that too much.
“Here it is,” she murmured, seeing the old, sprawling house. It was built in the period between the War of Independence and the Civil War. A walled yard with sculpted hedges and formal flowerbeds surrounded the imposing brownstone building. The aroma from the lilacs and lavenders invaded her senses.
“Daniel grew up here?” he asked, stopping behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist.
She nodded.
“Wow. My dad grew up in a two-bed apartment in Cleveland. He had to share a bedroom with three brothers.”
It was the first time she’d heard him talk about his dad. She knew there was bad blood there, since he’d left Michael, Josh, and Mia for another woman.
“Do you ever see him?”
“Haven’t seen him since I graduated college. I hear from his wife occasionally. Mostly when they need money.”
“Do you give it to them?” She turned her head to look up at him. His expression was guarded.
“Sometimes.”
“You’re a good man.”
His lip quirked. “I’m really not. I just get sick of them asking sometimes.”
Turning in his arms, she looped her own around his neck. His gaze softened. She could feel him physically relax against her.
He let down his guard when she was around, and she liked that.
“Let me take you on a horse ride some time,” she said. “I think you’d love it.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“There’s nothing more freeing than galloping through the fields. Feeling like you can run away from everything that’s upsetting you. Everything that’s annoying you. It’s like a fresh start.”
“But don’t you have to turn around and run back to it?” he murmured, cupping her cheek.
“I guess. But then it doesn’t seem so annoying anymore,” she whispered. “Because you know it’s only temporary.”
“I’ve never ridden a horse,” he confessed.
Her eyes widened. “No way.”
“Seriously. Why would I ride a horse? I have a car.”
