The Promise of Home by Nicola Marsh

Author:Nicola Marsh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mira
Published: 2022-07-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

28

By the time they got back to her place, Heidi still hadn’t made up her mind about whether to foster this burgeoning relationship with Jem or not. She’d wasted enough time over the years in a staid marriage with barely a flicker of passion, let alone a spark, which was ironic, considering she now had the spark but not the long-term commitment.

Connecting with Jem on a deeper level gave her hope for a future very different from her past. The way he’d opened up about losing his son and moving here for Karly had made her want to fling her arms around him. His sincerity had got to her, how he’d articulated his feelings and, ultimately, she knew that’s what she found the most attractive.

Bert had been a simple man: give him three meals a day, a beer at the end of eight hours of solid work, the footy on TV, and he’d been happy. He’d loved her in his own way, but they’d never had the kind of bond that invites deep confidences, so Jem opening up to her when they barely knew each other? Heady stuff.

‘You okay?’ Jem touched her arm and only then did she realise he’d pulled up in her driveway.

He’d left the engine running, which meant one of two things: he couldn’t wait to drop her off and get the hell out of here or, being a gentleman, he was leaving it up to her to invite him in or not. Pity she still had no clue if she wanted to.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

‘Sure?’ He reached out to cup her cheek with his hand and she sighed, leaning into it, savouring the warmth. ‘I had a lovely evening.’

‘Me too,’ she murmured, silently chastising herself for being so damn indecisive at her age.

The smart thing to do, the logical thing to do, would be to straighten and bid him good night. But she’d spent a lifetime doing the right thing so she turned her face slightly to press a kiss into the palm of his hand. Thankfully, he didn’t snatch it away, but he stared at her, puzzlement accentuating the wrinkles on his brow.

When he didn’t say anything, she eased away, disappointment warring with embarrassment. Why did she keep reading the signals wrong with this man?

‘Thanks for tonight—’

‘I’d love a cup of coffee,’ he said, almost simultaneously, and this time when their eyes met they burst out laughing.

‘I’m not very good at this,’ she said with a shake of her head.

‘You’re better than you think you are.’ His hand captured hers and she relaxed a little. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

That surprised her, prompting her to ask, ‘What makes you think you will?’

‘Because I saw the way you reacted at the beach earlier when I said I’d be leaving soon, and at the risk of sounding conceited and reading the situation totally wrong, you looked disappointed.’

That was the thing about people their age. No BS. He might be nineteen years older but her tolerance for bullshit had lowered around the time she hit forty and it hadn’t improved.

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