She froze, her heart thumping. “Agreed to what?” she asked, standing still.
He turned around, squeezed his eyes shut as if not realizing the words had come from his mouth. “Nothing.”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around her belly, not letting it go. “What did you agree to, Tristan?”
He remained silent, giving her all the answer she needed. She looked down to her feet, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “Renee talked you into this, didn’t she? You don’t want to be here any more than I do.”
“Samantha—”
But she shook her head, stopping him.
“Look—I’m frustrated, too.” He moved toward her. “But we’re in this together.”
Emotion quickly gathered in her chest, and she clenched her arms at her side. “I know.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She nodded, her chin quivering.
But scared wasn’t the feeling that was cutting her like a knife. It was something else. Something heartbreakingly difficult for her to admit to. Because hearing that he didn’t want to be there sent a chill over her entire body.
He came closer still and draped his heavy jacket around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Samantha.” He tightened the jacket around her shivering body, fastening it at the bottom before zipping it up to her chin. But he didn’t move away. He stayed there a second too long, his thumb by her chin, causing all the air to expel from her lungs.
She looked up to his throat, only inches from her lips. She wanted to kiss it, to wrap her arms around his large body and have him hold her. To hold him. It was so cold she could see her breath. So cold their breaths mingled together, and for some reason, she stepped closer.
She wasn’t sure if it was his warmth that drew her in. The heat that radiated from his muscles and bones. Or if it was the pain in his eyes. It seemed to say a thousand words all on its own. That he was sorry, that he was scared, too. But it wasn’t an average “I’m sorry.” It was a sorry from a man who carried the world on his shoulders—who took the blame for everything, even when it wasn’t his fault. Her mind screamed to move away. To not get too close to the man who had shattered her heart after only one night, to get away before it was too late, but she couldn’t. She craved to be close to him, even though she knew it would bring nothing but pain to too many people.
He placed his hand on her hip, wrapping his fingers around her lower back and exerting pressure. As though he needed her just as much as she needed him. As though he’d given up on resisting her and the gravity that pulled them together.
She lifted her chin, knowing it was wrong, but knowing she couldn’t stop it. Whatever was between them was stronger than her will. Stronger than her conscious. But as their lips touched for the briefest moment, a set of dull headlights began to shine in the distance. As though a higher being had rushed in to save her from herself.
Tristan turned around, clearing his throat as if he himself had been caught in the same spell. He took his phone out of his pocket and waved it overhead. “Hey!” he yelled. “Hey! Over here!”
A moment later, down the long flat road, came a beat up old van with a million stickers on the windows. The door opened, and a woman with a large pregnant belly hopped down to the road. She rested her hands on her lower back, exaggerating the ripe, swollen shape, and shined a bright flashlight over their faces, blinding them.
“Now what in the devil’s name are you two doin’ all the way out here?”
16
Chapter Sixteen
Present Day
The woman’s name was Patty. They learned that soon enough. After a short game of twenty questions that Samantha wasn’t sure they won, and an interrogation of Tristan about how they ended up in this predicament, she agreed to take them back to her house where they could find warmth and sleep.
“It’s a good thing I stumbled upon you two.” She nodded. “I’m afraid the closest payphone is over a hundred miles away and we don’t have a cell tower yet. They say it’s coming, but I’m not holding my breath.”
She waited for them to gather their things, while Samantha and Tristan thanked her profusely for her generosity. There were two sleeping toddlers snoring away in the back seat, though Patty looked to be no more than twenty-five. It was odd—seeing someone so close to her own age with a growing family. One the woman seemed proud and protective of.
Tristan took their bags from the trunk, while Samantha gathered her purse and tried to recover from their almost kiss. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Wished she could rewind the last ten minutes and have more self-control.