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The salty breeze tugged at Julia's hair as she stepped out of the cozy cooking class, her cheeks flushed from both the wine and the laughter. The event had been everything she'd hoped for-relaxing, engaging, and delightfully solo. Steven had no interest in joining her, opting instead for a quiet evening at their rented beach house. Typical, she thought with a small, resigned smile. But this night, this feeling, was hers alone.
She glanced to her left, where Michael stood, running a hand through his shortly cropped hair. He'd been her unexpected partner for the evening, a man who shared her laughter and her love for experimenting with recipes. Only that he had left his wife at home for the night, who said she couldn't be bothered to pick up a pan in her well-earned vacation.
They'd joked about how the only difference between them was the length of their hair-him with his neatly trimmed look, her with her long, windswept waves. Now, as they lingered outside the venue, the humor lingered, too, but something else was brewing. Something neither of them had anticipated.
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