I frowned, teetering on the decision. Don’t do it. Don’t do it, Salem.
He grinned, sensing that he was about to win. “Come on,” he coaxed. “We can let loose, have a drink, and talk.”
I was cracking. Finally, I sighed, “Okay, let’s do that.”
“Great.” His grin widened as he indicated to his bodyguard that we were finishing up.
After the waiter brought us our takeout, we swiftly made our way out of the restaurant to a parked black Range Rover with tinted windows. Thankfully no one recognized Chris as we hopped into the vehicle.
“Give me your car keys.” Chris held out his hand.
“Why?” I asked. This was a bad idea.
He chuckled. “I’m not going to steal your car, Salem. I’ll get one of my guys to take care of it so you won’t have to leave it here.”
“I wasn’t… I didn’t…” I stuttered, lost for words.
Chris just smirked at me. “Mmhmm, I can see those wheels turning. This will be fine. I promise I haven’t turned into a serial killer since the last time you saw me.” He gave me the most innocent look.
I chuckled and fished my keys out of my purse, handing them over. “It’s the silver Elantra that’s parked near the front.”
Chris tossed my keys out the window to one of his guys then reached for his wallet. “Take care of the Elantra, Grant.”
Grant was thin, but ripped and looked like a guy who could body slam anyone who tried to cross him. He walked up to the open window where Chris was sitting. “Yes, sir. Will do.” He gave a quick salute.
Chris handed him a Benjamin on the sly, then turned to me. “Your baby is in good hands.”
I chuckled. I hardly thought of my Elantra as my baby. “Thanks, Grant,” I said, leaning forward to see past Chris. He winked at me in return.
Before long, we were speeding down the highway toward his place. I swiped my phone and texted Alexis. She was spending the night at her dad’s house that night.
Me: Just wanted to say goodnight. I love you.
Alexis: Love you too.
Chris’s eyes were on me as we pulled up to a stoplight. “I’m texting my daughter,” I said, looking up at him in the darkness.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, embarrassed I’d caught him. “How old did you say Alexis was?” He accelerated on the gas with a quick jolt.
“She’s fourteen.” It was hard to believe sometimes that I was a mother to a teenager. I’d always heard the days were long, but the years were short. And the older Alexis got, the shorter the years felt. I loved being the mother to a teenager, even if I was a single mom. Alexis and I shared a bond most mothers dreamed of having with their teenage daughters. It was trying at times, but in a lot of ways Alexis was becoming one of my best friends.
“Wow, I still can’t believe it’s been that long ago. Feels like yesterday,” he said as if he were a little lost in our history.
“Tell me about it,” I sighed, caught in my own nostalgia. “Seems like just yesterday I was rocking her to sleep at night and dropping her off at Ms. Betty’s house every morning.”
“Hard to believe that teenager is the same baby you talked about all those years ago.” Chris glanced at the screen on my phone where Alexis’s profile pic had popped up in a tiny bubble on the screen.
I smiled, holding the phone out so Chris could get better look. “Fourteen going on twenty-one. Thinks she knows everything.”
We’d pulled up to another stoplight and he reached out to steady my shaky hand. A spark shot up my arm. The warmth of his skin tingled on my hand, and my heart immediately started pounding.
Chris leaned in, peering at the tiny pic on my phone. I could feel his breath in my hair, the heat of it making my stomach quiver. “Wow,” he said, “she’s beautiful.” He continued to hold onto my hand as I clutched my phone. His dark eyes were inches from mine, and I couldn’t tear myself away from his gaze. For a brief moment, we shared the air between us. “Just like her mama,” he breathed.
“Thanks,” I managed, my emotions jumbling. My stomach turned somersaults while my heart slammed in my chest.
He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, gently squeezing my hand as though he were restraining himself. After a few prolonged seconds, he quickly released it and pulled away. “I’m sorry. I—”
“No,” I shook my head adamantly, “it’s okay. Don’t apologize.” I didn’t really know what was okay, or if it really was. I didn’t know what had just happened between us. I couldn’t put it to words. Everything was confusing.