Sweet Distraction ✔︎

[8] 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆

The blue dress was a draped, open-back jersey dress that Isabelle had bought after she’d started making a bit of extra money through her blog. She had never been one for spending money on clothes, but the soft, cornflower-blue dress with the cowl neckline and cloth belt had both fit her to perfection and felt like a dream.

After lacing the ties at the back of her neck, she looked at herself in the mirror. The skirt fell just above her knees, revealing the length of her legs, and the color brought out the blue in her eyes. Though she loved the dress, she hadn’t worn it often—it wasn’t practical for travel, and she didn’t often have the need or desire to get dolled up for a date.

Except for now. Despite her attempt at cool, distant resolve, there was no question Evan had an effect on her that was hard to withstand. And since he’d covered for her costly impulsiveness at the auction, she had to be gracious about going on a date with him.

Gracious also apparently translated to “making an effort.” She brushed her hair until it shone, applied make-up, even spritzed some of Jupiter’s floral perfume on her wrists.

At five, a knock came at the door, and when she opened it, her heart bumped against her chest at the sight of Evan in dark trousers and a navy blue shirt open at the collar to reveal the strong column of his throat.

“Damn.” His gaze tracked over her, his breath expelling in a rush. “You take my breath away, Sahnehäubchen.”

Isabelle smiled. “What does Sahne… whatever mean?”

“Look it up.” He grinned and extended a bouquet of wildflowers.

“Thank you.” She took the flowers, suppressing a shiver as their fingers touched. “Come in, and I’ll put these in water.”

The scent of the blossoms filled her nose as she rummaged in the cupboards for a vase. Somehow he’d known she would appreciate wildflowers—daises, asters, bluebonnets, passionflowers—more than a bouquet of perfect red roses.

“This is a nice place.” Evan glanced around the one-room studio with its shabby-chic furniture and breakfast nook.

“It’s all Jupiter’s.”

Isabelle set the vase of flowers on the windowsill. Her sister’s mark was everywhere—the prints of Paris on the walls, the glossy cookbooks of French pastry-making, the photographs of Jupiter and their mother. Even though the studio was old and rundown, Jupiter had turned it into a little haven of warmth. Isabelle hadn’t bothered changing anything for her stay here; the only evidence of her presence was her tattered suitcase beside the bed, her laptop, and camera bag.

“I’m sure Jupiter will move out when she and Josh get back,” she said.

Her sister would likely move into Josh’s house, which she’d told Isabelle was some sort of massive, gated mansion on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Evan probably lived in a similar sort of luxury with housekeepers, expensive cars, and elaborate security systems.

“Much as I love the sight of you in that dress, you’d better bring a sweater,” Evan said. “We’re going to be outside.”

“Outside where?”

“You’ll see. It’ll be a good surprise.”

She slipped into a knit cardigan and picked up her bag containing her camera and personal items she brought with her everywhere. They went downstairs to his SUV. She’d expected him to take her to a fancy restaurant in downtown Indigo Bay, but instead he guided the car onto the interstate heading north.

The reddish gold of sunset spilled over the ocean. The rocky cliffs of the coastline gave way to farmlands and low, rolling hills, then they returned to the coast as they drew closer to Santa Cruz. He pulled the SUV into a parking lot across from the beach boardwalk.