by: LoLo Paige
Series: Wandering Hearts
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Comedy
Release Date: January 23, 2023
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Travel writer Dayna Benning tours Europe to write a feature story for a travel magazine. Along the way, she helps her bestie scatter her husband’s ashes. When Dayna accidentally sprinkles Alex Mendes with dried rose petals intended for the deceased, she senses a chemistry with the silver fox airline pilot. Just one catch—he wears a wedding band. Embittered by her divorce, Dayna refuses to be a homewrecker, like the woman who ruined her marriage.
Alex and Dayna go their separate ways, but she’s mystified when serendipitous signs point her toward him at every turn. Determined to find out why, she learns Alex is a widower. Dayna hopes for a second chance at love…but her resentful heart stops her. Can she forgive those that broke her heart the first time? And for that matter, can she forgive herself for her failed marriage? Unless she finds a way to piece together her fragmented heart, Alex will forever remain a fantasy.
Alex pulled out bills for a tip. “Where are you going next?”
“Lisbon, then Barcelona, to begin our group tour with Wanderlust Travel. Mariko talked me into going on this tour, and my magazine editor thought it would make a great travel article. Northern Spain, southern France, then back to Portugal.”
“Sounds fantastic. I hope you ladies enjoy yourselves.” Alex finished his wine and stared off.
Dayna detected a hint of sadness in his eyes. He was too exquisite to be sad. “What about you?”
“I plan to walk part of the Camino de Santiago trail, the Way of St. James, in Spain. Are you familiar?”
Her mind raced, ticking off the sights in her travel brochure. She remembered scribbling an asterisk next to it. “Yes, it’s on our group itinerary. When I read about why people walk it, I considered making it a sidebar for my travel piece.” She thought for a moment. “I had a friend who walked it a few years ago to find herself. Is that why you’re going? To find yourself?”
“Something along those lines. I’m walking from Burgos to Santiago de Compostela in Spain, about two-hundred-fifty miles. They say it takes about three weeks. I hope to average ten to twelve miles a day.”
Her eyes roved him in a two-second evaluation. “You seem like you can manage it. I couldn’t, possibly. Twenty years ago, maybe.”
His eyes roved her right back, along with a million-dollar smile. “Sure, you could.”
She couldn’t remember how long it had been since a guy smiled at her that way. Goose bumps sprung up on her arms like daisies. “Are you walking alone?”
“Yes.”
What about his French wife? Dayna wished she could walk the El Camino with him. What a wild and crazy thought.
“I’d better go. Sorry you got rose petals in your face—but not sorry I met you.” She feigned a lighthearted tone.
“A unique experience, for sure.” He stood and pushed in his chair, gesturing her to walk ahead of him. “Where’s your bags?”
“On the bus.” She drew a deep breath, hating the gold band on his finger—hating how the good ones were always taken. She wondered if anyone had ever thought the same about her, back when she wore her own wedding band.
They wandered out to the boardwalk as the bus pulled up. Mariko stood next to it, waving her to hurry.
“Dayna.” Alex spoke her name in such a way, her gaze drifted to his. He slanted a grin at her. “Maybe our paths will cross someplace in Spain. You never know.”
She knew darn well she’d never see him again. “Wouldn’t that be something?” She extended her hand. “Nice meeting you, Alex. I hope you find answers on your trail walk.”
He squeezed her hand. “Thanks. It was fun meeting you. Tell Mariko thanks for the delightful meal. And what a humbling experience it was to witness her scattering her husband’s ashes.” A sad expression crossed his face, but only for a moment. Alex fixed his eyes on Dayna’s as if he could see into her soul. She wanted to bare it for him—along with a heck of a lot more. She couldn’t look away.
Apparently, he couldn’t either. Time suspended, like every air molecule had stilled. Did he feel it too? If he weren’t married, she would have asked for his email address. If her schedule wasn’t so rushed, she would have hung out with him...which made little sense for someone she could never have. Life sucked sometimes.
“Dayna, get the lead out!” Mariko called to her.
Dayna glanced at Mariko, then back at Alex. “Good luck to you. Have a safe trip.” She donned her sunglasses and turned away.
Everything slid to slow-motion as she felt an impossible tide roll toward her as she stepped to the bus. She couldn’t dispel the feeling of walking away from someone wonderful. Her chest clenched and a familiar heaviness anchored her heart.
Why did she feel like Meryl Streep in the truck behind Clint Eastwood at the end of Bridges of Madison County? Meryl was torn between staying in the truck with her husband or jumping out to run after Clint, knowing if she didn’t, she’d lose him forever.
She’d only known this guy for a couple of hours and didn’t even know his last name. Her heart mashed up in a roiling mix of confusion. The romantic notion of being on a European vacation had clouded her mind with impossible fantasies.
A hole opened in her heart. Choices, choices. But which were the right ones? She reminded herself of the wonderful people she had yet to meet on this trip. Alex was only the first of many. As the bus pulled away, he stood on the boardwalk, smiling and waving, as if he’d known her all her life.
She pressed her palm to the window, watching him grow smaller.
The bottom fell out of her.
If only.
“Lisbon, then Barcelona, to begin our group tour with Wanderlust Travel. Mariko talked me into going on this tour, and my magazine editor thought it would make a great travel article. Northern Spain, southern France, then back to Portugal.”
“Sounds fantastic. I hope you ladies enjoy yourselves.” Alex finished his wine and stared off.
Dayna detected a hint of sadness in his eyes. He was too exquisite to be sad. “What about you?”
“I plan to walk part of the Camino de Santiago trail, the Way of St. James, in Spain. Are you familiar?”
Her mind raced, ticking off the sights in her travel brochure. She remembered scribbling an asterisk next to it. “Yes, it’s on our group itinerary. When I read about why people walk it, I considered making it a sidebar for my travel piece.” She thought for a moment. “I had a friend who walked it a few years ago to find herself. Is that why you’re going? To find yourself?”
“Something along those lines. I’m walking from Burgos to Santiago de Compostela in Spain, about two-hundred-fifty miles. They say it takes about three weeks. I hope to average ten to twelve miles a day.”
Her eyes roved him in a two-second evaluation. “You seem like you can manage it. I couldn’t, possibly. Twenty years ago, maybe.”
His eyes roved her right back, along with a million-dollar smile. “Sure, you could.”
She couldn’t remember how long it had been since a guy smiled at her that way. Goose bumps sprung up on her arms like daisies. “Are you walking alone?”
“Yes.”
What about his French wife? Dayna wished she could walk the El Camino with him. What a wild and crazy thought.
“I’d better go. Sorry you got rose petals in your face—but not sorry I met you.” She feigned a lighthearted tone.
“A unique experience, for sure.” He stood and pushed in his chair, gesturing her to walk ahead of him. “Where’s your bags?”
“On the bus.” She drew a deep breath, hating the gold band on his finger—hating how the good ones were always taken. She wondered if anyone had ever thought the same about her, back when she wore her own wedding band.
They wandered out to the boardwalk as the bus pulled up. Mariko stood next to it, waving her to hurry.
“Dayna.” Alex spoke her name in such a way, her gaze drifted to his. He slanted a grin at her. “Maybe our paths will cross someplace in Spain. You never know.”
She knew darn well she’d never see him again. “Wouldn’t that be something?” She extended her hand. “Nice meeting you, Alex. I hope you find answers on your trail walk.”
He squeezed her hand. “Thanks. It was fun meeting you. Tell Mariko thanks for the delightful meal. And what a humbling experience it was to witness her scattering her husband’s ashes.” A sad expression crossed his face, but only for a moment. Alex fixed his eyes on Dayna’s as if he could see into her soul. She wanted to bare it for him—along with a heck of a lot more. She couldn’t look away.
Apparently, he couldn’t either. Time suspended, like every air molecule had stilled. Did he feel it too? If he weren’t married, she would have asked for his email address. If her schedule wasn’t so rushed, she would have hung out with him...which made little sense for someone she could never have. Life sucked sometimes.
“Dayna, get the lead out!” Mariko called to her.
Dayna glanced at Mariko, then back at Alex. “Good luck to you. Have a safe trip.” She donned her sunglasses and turned away.
Everything slid to slow-motion as she felt an impossible tide roll toward her as she stepped to the bus. She couldn’t dispel the feeling of walking away from someone wonderful. Her chest clenched and a familiar heaviness anchored her heart.
Why did she feel like Meryl Streep in the truck behind Clint Eastwood at the end of Bridges of Madison County? Meryl was torn between staying in the truck with her husband or jumping out to run after Clint, knowing if she didn’t, she’d lose him forever.
She’d only known this guy for a couple of hours and didn’t even know his last name. Her heart mashed up in a roiling mix of confusion. The romantic notion of being on a European vacation had clouded her mind with impossible fantasies.
A hole opened in her heart. Choices, choices. But which were the right ones? She reminded herself of the wonderful people she had yet to meet on this trip. Alex was only the first of many. As the bus pulled away, he stood on the boardwalk, smiling and waving, as if he’d known her all her life.
She pressed her palm to the window, watching him grow smaller.
The bottom fell out of her.
If only.
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I'm looking forward to reading this book. It sounds really good.
ReplyDeleteLooks like a fun read. Had me at the title.
ReplyDelete