Chapter 15 #3
“I can’t imagine how hard that was for you,” I said, dropping my hand.
“Yeah, it was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
But we found a routine, my company grew, so I got some help.
And then MJ and I just made it work, one day at a time.
Books were my only escape. Mom had left behind a novel she’d been reading.
It was a true story about a man who had fought against all hope and survived an avalanche on Mount Everest. It spoke to me. Gave me hope when I needed it most.”
“I’m so glad you had that.” Our eyes met, and I whispered, “You did it, Miles. You survived.”
“Yeah, but I messed up. A lot. There were times when I honestly wanted to give up. But I also started reading my Bible again. God kept me from falling apart.”
“That’s amazing. I’ve had similar experiences, one just recently, that solidified my need for God in my life and that His word is the truth I can hold on to.” The moment was charged with a new understanding of each other. I felt so privileged to have witnessed another peek into his heart.
“You mentioned loving romance novels before,” he said with a playful eyebrow waggle, suddenly shifting the mood to something that felt like flirting.
I blushed crimson, but drawing from my newfound confidence, I answered him.
“Yeah, book boyfriends are the best. Way better than any guy I’ve ever met in person,” I teased, jumping up and running to the shoreline with a squeal.
“Oh, really?” he yelled.
Miles grabbed MJ around the waist, hoisting her up on his shoulder. She screamed loudly as he chased me around the frigid water, our laughter filling the air.
We were all laughing about MJ’s failed war with the seagulls when we arrived back at their house. The sun was just setting and we hated to leave, but my chattering teeth made the decision. It had been an incredible day. Being with them had felt so right that it scared me.
If she were my daughter…
“I can’t let you drive home wet and full of sand. Let me grab you some clothes. You can take a shower if you’d like,” Miles said, carrying their things to the laundry room.
“Pfft, if I fit in your clothes, I’ll cry,” I said absently and blushed crimson immediately.
MJ ran to her room, leaving a trail of wet sand behind her. “Sorry, sorry,” she cried out as the matted drops hit the floor.
I shook my head and smiled as she took off. When I looked back, Miles was looking at me intensely.
“I like seeing you in my clothes,” he said, his cheeks equally reddening with his confession.
I was speechless. In his eyes, I saw my own feelings reflected once again.
There was an attraction that had taken root maybe as far back as Enzo’s wedding and had blossomed into moments like this.
Something soft and wonderful pushed its way from the surface, and it was more than just physical attraction.
There was a shared sense of humor and easy conversations where we both felt safe enough to share our deepest feelings.
And when Miles looked at me like I’d hung the stars and the moon, my romantic heart wanted to take flight.
“When MJ goes to bed, will you stay? I mean, you know? So we can talk? There are things that need to be said.” His expression was hopeful but reserved as if he wasn’t sure I’d agree.
“Yes, I think we should,” I said softly.
He exhaled his relief. “Good. Go, then, before you freeze.”
I nodded and stepped back from him, my emotions swirling, skin trembling from the cold and the weight of our conversation.
This was it. We were finally going to open up and discuss this connection.
A few minutes later, I stepped into the warm current of the guest room shower, and I let all the details of our incredible day together flow through my mind like a movie.
It had been perfect. We laughed and ate, shooing away the persistent seagulls Sofia had also warned me about. MJ shared her thoughts on starting a new school, both of us offering her advice. We felt like family.
Stop it, Vicky. You’re not ready for that yet.
But I could see it so clearly, and I knew whatever Miles wanted to say, I’d have to be honest with him too about this.
If the way he looked at me, the way we both reacted to the few times he’d touched me, was any indication of his mutual affection, then my next fear would be if he’d be willing to wait for me.
As I dried off and pulled his hoodie to my nose to inhale, I closed my eyes. I could see it all someday. Me in his hoodie, MJ and me reading on the wide chair I’d picked for them, holidays, birthdays, beach days.
I could see it all.
Quickly dismissing the old feelings of embarrassment that Miles’ clothes did mostly fit, I stepped out of the bathroom in a steam cloud.
I rubbed my arms in his warm hoodie and untangled my hair with my fingers.
Grateful for my dry "unmentionables" that I’d thankfully placed in a plastic bag in my beach bag along with waterproof mascara, I left the guestroom giggling about the term I’d heard in a regency novel.
I didn’t see either of them, so I walked into the kitchen to find my bag to put my swimsuit in.
It had gotten wet during our water fight on the shore.
My ego had been boosted when Miles ignored a woman who asked for his name and number, even with me standing right next to him.
I felt like throwing my arms around his neck and reenacting a scene from my latest romance novel about two friends who fake-dated, but I didn’t want to upset MJ.
Newsflash: He didn’t give it to her. Take that, blondie.
I was looking around for a broom to help clean up our sandy mess when I heard the doorbell ring.
I waited to see if Miles would come out to answer it.
When it rang again, I walked to the door, chuckling at my bare feet that stuck out at the bottom of his too-long pants. I was still smiling when I opened the door.
In that moment, I saw two things in quick succession.
The first was a gorgeous woman with tight jeans and a bright yellow eyelet blouse, surprise evident on her face. The second was a large suitcase at her side.
Her long, wavy blonde hair hung past her shoulders. She wore a brown hat that gave her a model-like appearance, along with the cutest pair of cowboy boots I’d ever seen.
She examined me from my bare toes to my wet head with a frown and a look of confusion
“Sorry. Um, can I help you?” I asked, nervously holding the door in front of me to hide behind.
“Is this Miles’ house?” she asked, a prominent Southern accent making her words lilt like a song. She shifted her leather purse higher on her shoulder as she continued to peruse me like I was a chemistry problem to solve. By the growing scowl on her face, she hated chemistry.
“Ah, yeah, it is. Can I ask…?”
My words were interrupted when I heard MJ gasp behind me.
“Mom?”