Page 25 of Honey Bun
I tossed on a sundress that had appeared in my closet, though I wasn’t sure who’d given it to me. Arman’s mom was always so nice to me, so I didn’t question her gifts. When I twirled, I was quite sure I would look good to Arman. I’d caught him staring at my legs. That day, I felt weak but steady. I was moving on from my past.
Hopefully, Jeff could fix my divorce fast. This time, there was no way I would let Arman out of my life. Leaving him before was the biggest mistake I’d ever made. The only saving grace of my past choices was Aurora, who’d been my mother hen back in Montana. The night before, she’d mentioned that sailing wasn’t her thing and that she enjoyed Roxanne Nourozi’s tea and company.
Arman and I hoisted off without me doing much of anything except enjoying the water and the ride. As we made it to the edge of the bay, his phone rang. He let me steer as he took the call, rubbing between his eyes.
When he finished his call, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
He tucked his phone in his pocket. “A potential collaborator objects to us having few women-centered games.”
Gaming wasn’t something I knew a lot about. “Is that a lack? And why would that be an issue? If she says no, how are you ever going to get more women designers anyhow?”
“I don’t know, but I do need more women-centered games.” He shrugged. “And her ideas were right on the money. She’s creative, and her game insight is respected.”
I squeezed his hand, and the sparks rushed through me. “Set up an appointment in person, and say just that to her face. We both know you’re persuasive.” I traced his stubbly chin with that adorable afternoon shadow and let him go.
He stood taller. “Glad you think so, and thanks for talking sense into me.”
I winked and handed him the wheel. “That’s one of the perks of the new job, it seems.”
He shook his head and kept me driving. “Only you would see steering me as a perk.”
He was easy to work for. I laughed. “You were definitely hiring the wrong people, then.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder. The tingles in my skin spiked when he said, “Until you.”
The wind blew my hair, and I tapped his shoulder. “Less flirting. Catch that wind.”
He took over, and I sat down. If I hadn’t been more tender than normal, I’d have helped so he could maneuver the sails. I held onto my seat as he said, “Anything for you.”
A rope needed to be tied. I pointed, “I can—”
“Stay seated.” He grabbed it and fixed the ship so we would fly. “I won’t risk your daughter’s wrath.”
The boat jolted as it gained speed. With the wind and droplets of water hitting my face, my smile grew wider. “She is stubborn with her opinions.”
“Did she get that from her dad?”
“I don’t know. I always tried to shield her from Bob when he was at his worst.” My smile faded as I thought about what my daughter had seen in her short ten years.
“Kids see what’s going on, no matter how much we wish they didn’t. Hold on to your seat.”
I pressed my lips together and wished I wasn’t holding back. I hadn’t meant to bring up my ex, but the words slipped out. We went faster and faster, and I let out a long-held scream. It felt liberating to break through the water. It was so much fun. I felt alive.
As the wind left us and we slowed, I rocked and met his brown eyes. “That was amazing.”
He came to my side and squeezed my hands. “We were like kids again.”
The day at the race when we’d worked together, we hadn’t won, but he’d told me he loved me. I longed to hear those words from him now. But we weren’t kids anymore. I shook off the memory as we sailed back to shore. Not helping him felt wrong, but the situation was temporary.
After we docked, he helped me off as if I was frail. His strong hand on mine made me feel more powerful, but I kept that to myself.
On our way back in the house, he said, “Let’s get your girl to the carnival so she can enjoy herself too.”
“Sounds good.”
As we walked up the hill, he said, “Happy to help.”
I put my hands in my back pockets. “Why?” I felt a little lightheaded. I ignored it and reminded myself that I’d be fine.
