“It’s so relaxing here.” Jordan expelled a breath.
“Yes, it is.” She loved the sound of the constant white noise of the ocean and the tiny salty droplets that the breeze carried. She thought of the wave tattoo that was hiding on Jordan’s left bicep, under his shirt.
“Can I ask you something?” A muscle twitched in his jaw.
She hesitated. “Sure.”
He turned to look at her. “How did someone like Eric Hays get you to marry him?”
She scoffed. From his tone, she knew the question wasn’t an insult to her. “I thought he was the one; the perfect combination of a cool, blond surfer from California who was also smart enough to study civil engineering and dream of building bridges and cities. He was charming and said all the right things.”
“What would those be?” He huffed a little chuckle.
She scoffed again. “That my eyes were green like seaweed, my hair reminded him of the sun. It was poetry in comparison to the wanna hook up? we only ever got from the guys in my hometown.”
Jordan laughed, and his laughter was deep and husky, making her heart flail and her lips curl into a wide smile. It was strange that, despite the way her body reacted to him, she didn’t feel uncomfortable with him now. Maybe because she had felt out of place all day and he was a sort of a familiar, comforting presence.
“So, how did you find out?” he asked, and they both fleetingly glanced at each other before returning to gaze at the crash of the waves. It was clear he meant to say, “that Eric was a douchebag.”
“It was gradual. You know that saying about boiling the water with the frog in it? I was the frog. First, it was the university we went to that wasn’t good enough; he kept saying how it was a compromise for him, that he could have done much better. Then it was the town I came from, and what my parents did, and what their house looked like, and who my sister married. Then the projects he got were never good enough for him. He offered we’d come here, and I was in love enough, and hopeful enough, to think … But after we moved here and things looked up, I wasn’t enough. Nothing I did …” She faltered.
“He made you feel you weren’t enough? You?” He looked at her, and that muscle twitched in his stubbled jaw again, as if he was biting back a curse.
“I let him. You didn’t know me then.” She watched him, feeling her color rising, because she couldn’t believe she had just admitted something like that, something she had only ever told her best friends.
“I didn’t, but I know his type.”
The intensity of his gaze was such that she forced herself to avert hers and fix it on the rolling waves of the ocean, unable to face him at that moment and feeling his gaze scorching her profile.
“And he remarried?” he asked.
“To an engineer he met at work. Not the type of wedding where the girls were bridesmaids and all that. A Las Vegas one. But we’d met Jenna—that’s his wife—and she was okay. I know what people say about him, and I know what he can be like, but he’s not like that with them—the girls. He’s good with them … when he sees them.” She was silent then, still feeling his eyes on her profile, as if he knew she had more to say. “They met when we were still married, but he didn’t cheat on me. I initiated the divorce, and they got together only after.”
She turned to look at him as he ran his hand under his mouth, as if he was choosing his words.
“And you stayed here?” he asked, returning her gaze.
The breeze that swept her hair back swept his onto his forehead. She yearned to reach out and rake it back with her fingers. He was so close, and she was flooded with vivid memories of what that mouth felt like on hers, on her skin, what those hands felt like on her body, what his hardness and that rock-hard thigh felt like between her legs.
She shook her head in a single, quick motion to bash it all. “I love this town, I love my job, made good friends here, and the girls were born here. It’s their home. I like visiting Minnesota, but I always feel relieved to come back here again. It’s home.”
“It is.”
“For you, too?”
“Yes.” His gaze drifted from her to the view. “But I’m leaving again tomorrow.”
Though she knew it, and though there was nothing real between them, Hope felt as if her insides had become void. The breeze felt cold on her skin, although, up until now, all she had felt was heat.
He turned his head, and they watched each other again.
“And now you’re dating Chris. Also born and raised here.”
“Well, I don’t know if … We haven’t really … I think it’s over.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” He averted his gaze back to the sea and chewed on his lip.
“It’s getting chilly,” she said, rubbing her palms over her arms. She wasn’t sure if the cold was outside or inside of her.