He started laughing and tapped his knee, before shaking his head.
“Far from it,” he responded at long last, the familiar smirk appearing.
“Well you can’t just say something that intriguing and not elaborate,” I scolded him.
“That’s fascinating?” he arched his brow. “I gotta get you out into the world more.”
“Your favorite,” Kayla said, appearing with complimentary pastries. She set a plate down for the both of us, and I eyed the one closest to me with suspicion. I tore off a piece, hoping she didn’t sprinkle it with rat poison.
“Thanks, Kayla,” Jason said, giving her a slight nod but turning his attention immediately back to me.
“Yeah. Thanks. That was totally sweet of you,” I told her.
“I have a place in the city and a house here on the island,” he continued, pulling a tidbit off the Danish.
Two places and he was a bike builder? I mean I knew it could be somewhat lucrative after a clientele had been established, but he was pretty young for that.
“You look confused,” he told me.
I shrugged. There was no delicate way to present my observations.
“Ever been married?” I asked.
His eyes darkened a shade and he shook his head, dropping his gaze to the floor. Not quite the reaction I expected.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” I apologized.
“You didn’t.” He reached over and clutched my hand, his eyes locking on mine. My pulse raced as the heat of his body mixed with the electricity that ran between us. “My turn.” He smiled and let go of my hand.
“I’d ask if you’re homeless, but I already know the answer to that one. I know how old you are because of your brother. I know your favorite color. So I guess that leaves me with snow or sun?”
“Snow, of course,” I replied, feeling the earlier tension diminish.
“Okay. I’ve gotta be honest. I’ve never been to one of those speed dating things, but I’m pretty sure they’re easier than this,” he teased and a sting touched my cheeks. He was right. What was this? I never ran a date through a tsunami of questions before.
“I know kind of lame, huh?” I laughed and adjusted in the seat. The sun was streaming in through the windows, beckoning for a ride.
“Not lame, just different.”
“What do you have planned today, after this?” I asked.
“I kept it open in case you were up for a longer ride around the island.” His eyes lit up like they did last night at the mention of riding together. “I’d let you take the lead, of course. I get the feeling that’s how you like it.” Another shot of familiarity and longing swept through me as I watched him analyze me. It made no sense.
“I’d like that,” I responded, stirring my iced drink.
“You want to ask me something?” he asked, his voice gentle as he eyed me.
“I’m surprised my brother’s okay with his best friend…” my voice trailed off.
“Yeah. I don’t think he really understands the spell you’ve cast over me.” He looked out the window toward the perennial garden, and I sensed there was more.
“Not that it would really matter what he thinks,” I offered. “It’s not like he’s been around the past decade to hit up for dating advice. I have no plans of starting now.”
“Something tells me even if he had been in your life, you wouldn’t hit him or anyone up for advice.” His grin bounced off his lips as I narrowed my eyes at him.
“You might be right about that,” I acknowledged. “So how long have you guys known each other?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. The sun shifted through the window and cascaded along his face, bringing out the golden flecks of his eyes. It was such an unusual color.
He took a sip of his iced-coffee and slid it back on the table.
“About ten years,” he replied.
I shook my head as his words sank in. Ten years. He had known my brother about as long as he’d been absent. The room felt as if the air had been sucked right out of it. I expected that they’d been friends for several years, but not the entire time…
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, tracing the grain of the wood along the table. Did it really matter?
“I don’t want it to end the way it did last night,” he replied.
“It won’t,” I vowed. “And I apologize for that yesterday. It actually made me realize that I needed to deal with the realities surrounding my brother. Whatever they might be. I think I’ve been carrying around a lot more hostility about that than I knew. You were just the lucky guy who got to see it.”
“It wasn’t that bad. Kind of cute, really.” His eyes sparkled with an intensity that could never get old.
“You said you were best friends?”
“He’s like a brother to me,” he replied, sensing my unease.
“Well, at least one of us has had that experience,” I muttered, looking away. “Sorry. I’m trying not to be snarky, but it sneaks up on me.”
“I won’t try to pretend to understand the loss you felt or still feel, but I can tell you that there’s more to the story with your brother. His intentions weren’t to hurt you. They were to protect you.”
“So he talked about me?” I asked.
“Off and on, but some of the situations we were in didn’t warrant deep discussions about family.”
I cocked my head and watched Jason contemplate what next to tell me…how far to go.
“How did you meet him?” I questioned.
“He was assigned to the First Marine Division in Camp Pendleton along with me.”
“My brother was in the marines?” I sucked in a deep breath. That’s where he went?
Jason nodded.
“Wow,” I uttered. “There were a lot of scenarios that I imagined over the last ten years, but that wasn’t one of them.”
“That’s only the beginning.”
“So when did you start building bikes?” I asked, shifting the conversation away from my brother. I think at this point little tidbits about my brother were all I could handle.
“A few things happened in my life that made me reconsider what was important and what wasn’t.” His eyes darkened, and he shrugged as if answering to himself more than me.
“I can understand that,” I whispered, touching my chest. “But sometimes that’s almost harder than doing the ‘right thing’.”
“How so?” His eyes focused on me as he drew in a deep breath through his mouth. I found myself gazing at his lips far too long and blushed at the same time his lips showed signs of victory.
“Taking chances, following dreams, it all seems a lot more difficult than taking an office job or something. Not that an office job isn’t some people’s idea of a dream. I mean Brandy is preparing for law school. That’s been her dream since she was a little girl...” my voice trailed off.
“What’s your dream?” he asked. “Is it working for your father?”
I stared at him in disbelief. Not because of the question, but because he genuinely wanted an answer. It had always been assumed that I would work for my dad. There were no discussions surrounding dreams or hopes. Things were just as they were. After all, I was lucky to be handed such an opportunity. That line of thinking had been pounded into me continuously.
“It’s complicated.”
“It always is,” he replied, not taking that as a valid response.
“You’re in it,” I said, feeling the color run up my cheeks.
“In it?” he asked, puzzlement filling his eyes.
“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to own a little espresso bar that served homemade pastries and cookies. I love to bake and…”
“So why don’t you?” he asked, surveying me for a reaction.
“We live in the land of Starbucks. It’s not a very practical dream. Most places that open up shut down within the first two years. With things like Yelp, it only takes a couple negative reviews.”
“Interesting.”
&
nbsp; “What?” I asked.
“You’ve sputtered off a list of reasons why you can’t do it. I want to hear why you could.” His gaze was so intense, so curious that it took everything I had not to squirm off my chair. Never once had I dated a guy who was this forward thinking and engaged in anything I had to say, especially something that didn’t have to do with them.
“I love to bake. I’ve taken several pastry courses. I used to sell out of things I baked while I was in college. There’s nothing better than watching someone enjoy something you’ve created. I’d love to live in a small community and get to know everyone. I love people. Although, you haven’t seen that side of me,” I teased. “And working in a position that required more movement than sitting in an office would be healthier for me all around,” I stopped myself.
“So from what I hear you telling me, the one reason keeping you from pursuing your dream is the risk of failure?” he asked, his gaze boring into me.
I nodded, unable to speak. It felt so natural to open up to him. I was telling Jason things that sounded beyond fantastical and impractical, and yet, he was completely receptive and encouraging.
“Look… passion, love, and excitement radiates from you when you talk about baking.” He reached across the table and touched my hand. “Some people don’t have a passion and that’s completely fine. But when you do have a little fire within you, it’s borderline criminal to ignore it.” He removed his hand, finishing his drink. There was something mischievous hiding behind his eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied, grinning. “Tell me why you enjoy working where you do.”
“That’s a stumper,” I confessed. I took a few moments to think about it. I wasn’t a numbers person, yet my job was filled with them. I enjoyed eating cheese, but I certainly wouldn’t call it a passion. I looked around the coffee shop, which had mostly cleared out as I tried to come up with something that would seal the deal explaining why I was in love with the corporate world. Kayla had gone outside to water the geraniums and propped the door open, which let in a nice breeze. I felt a call to go help her out, but I stayed put.
I pressed my lips together before beginning my onslaught of bogus reasons. “The perks are great… like box seats at all the sporting events and concerts, nice dinners and functions to attend. I get to meet a lot of interesting people. Well, maybe not interesting…but I get to meet a lot of people.” I laughed.
“What about the job? Do you like the job?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.
“Does anyone like their job?” I asked.
“Yeah. Some people do and my advice is to become one of those people before it’s too late.”
“I’m not completely sold on the idea of growing up,” I admitted out of the blue.
A subtle grin lined his lips as he drank me in.
“I think it’s overrated, myself,” he mused. “But it’s amazing how life puts us in situations to make sure we do, isn’t it?”
I didn’t see his eyes leave mine, but I wondered if he knew—if my brother knew and told him. My scar had done a marvelous job of healing in the last few years, but for some reason the skin felt tight, and I reached up to press on it through my shirt.
“Very true,” I agreed, polishing off my last sip. “Ready for that ride?”
Chapter Thirteen
It was official. I had become one of those people. Monday had come too quickly, and I was already looking forward to Thursday night so that I could daydream about Friday being the last day of the week.
Because our division was doing so well, my father revised the quarterly projections, realigning each division. Rather than congratulate my team on a job well done, he shot up our forecast, looking for results that seemed implausible. Apparently he wanted our team to pick up the slack of the struggling divisions, in addition to our own gains. And our bonuses depended on it. Ridiculous! I was certain if anyone had worried about my team getting preferential treatment, this move certainly relieved those fears.
The added stress could be felt on our entire floor. With spirits this down, it couldn’t be expected that they’d be thrilled to offer any late nights or early mornings, which was exactly what was needed to pull this type of performance off. I called Brandy in my office and she closed the door behind her.
“What’s up?” she asked, sitting in the chair across from me.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I teased.
“I should be asking you that. I, at least, have an out in a few years.” Her eyes glimmered before her lips broke into a smile.
“Point taken. I was thinking we should get some lunch delivered for everyone. Maybe build everyone’s spirit up a bit. Is it too late to place an order?”
“We could do pizza,” she offered. “I think it’s too late for sandwiches or anything else.”
“Okay. Sounds perfect then. Do you mind shooting an email to the team, letting them know when lunch will be arriving?”
“Of course,” she replied. “I don’t envy you.”
“How is it out there?” I asked.
“They aren’t happy. The general consensus seems to be that they feel they’re being punished for doing well.”
“They’re not alone in that thinking. That’s a pretty ruthless move,” I said, glancing at a new email that came in from my father. “I talked to finance and I guess this is pretty typical. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have pushed the team to perform so well. How crazy is that?” I started laughing in disbelief at what was coming out of my mouth.
I’d sent my father several emails requesting that he reconsider the change, but it had already been sent through finance. It was a done deal, at least until we failed and they shifted the forecasts again.
Brandy stood up. “I’ll go place the order. I hear extra pepperoni calling my name. “
“Me too,” I told her as she closed the door behind her.
I walked over to the window and stared out at all of the hustle and bustle of the city. Everyone on his or her way to somewhere—who knows where—talking into cell phones with an intensity that seemed like life hung in the balance of such deliberations. The little figures rushed along the sidewalks, dodging the meandering tourists and families, on their way back to the office or off to lunch. But at the end of the day was anything really accomplished? I pushed aside the nagging feeling of being at the wrong place—inhabiting the wrong life—and turned back toward my desk to immerse myself deeper into my mistaken identity.
My purse buzzed, and I hoped it was a certain somebody sending me a text. I thought back to Jason and his bronzed skin and the scruff along his jawline, and my heart immediately skipped a beat. He was pretty captivating and all man. If I was stranded in the middle of nowhere with a broken-down car, I had full confidence he’d be able to get me on the road again. Thinking back to the guys I’d dated, I don’t think I could say that about any one of them. Was that something that age and maturity presented or was my generation full of softies and hipsters? Pulling my phone out of my purse, I clicked on the top button and watched the screen light up.
Thinking about our ride on Saturday… Would like to see you again.
My heart fluttered, and warmth filled me up as I read his words over again. Saturday was one of the most enjoyable days I’d experienced in a long time. After we left the coffee shop, we rode for hours, covering most of the country roads and exploring less traveled paths on the island. He asked me to dinner in Winsor before I boarded the ferry, but I turned him down. Not for a good reason, but for a pretty silly one. Everything had been so wonderful that I didn’t want it to end on a bad note. I wished I had stayed for dinner. I really did. He even offered to keep it close to the ferry at a local fish house, but after asking twice he got the message. Of course, on the entire ferry ride back I was worried he got the wrong message, and poor Brandy had to listen to me rehash everything several times when I got home. It was decided after that little fiasco that I’d definitely accept his dinner req
uest next time, if there was a next time. And now it looked like my day was turning around, and maybe there’d be one.
Before texting back, I held my cup of chamomile tea and took a sip. I reached into my purse and shook out a couple tiny white and blue pills into my palm, swallowing them with another sip of tea. I didn’t want to look too eager, but I also didn’t want to blow it by waiting too long to text back. Although, I had such a knack for the latter that I had grown kind of accustom to it.
I quickly texted back.
Me, too. I’d love to go out again. Maybe take you up on that dinner offer after all?
I hit send and watched the status change from sent to delivered to read, hoping I’d get a reply pretty quickly, which I did.
Took a ride out to the lavender fields this morning. Think you might enjoy them.
My heart started pounding. Was this what could be expected from a real, adult relationship? I could really get used to this compared to the college guys I’d had to deal with.
But that being said, I couldn’t resist teasing him a little and quickly typed away.
Don’t you ever work?
Quick to respond, he wrote back.
Work smarter, not harder
I smiled, feeling the familiar joy spread through me as I thought about him out and about this morning, actually stopping to think about me. Could I actually be this lucky? I texted back.
So about that dinner?
The phone buzzed back a response.
Free Friday night?
My heart did a little dip, wishing our date was sooner, but I refused to become one of those chicks. I had a life and it wasn’t going to revolve around a guy.
Sounds perfect. Gotta run. Send me the details.
He wasn’t rushing things. I needed to cool my jets, take my time, and enjoy my new life. Brandy tapped on the glass to signal the pizza had been delivered, and I tossed my phone into my purse and joined everyone in the conference room. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to get the team reenergized, but I thought I might want to take a cue from Jason’s mentality. Work smarter, not harder.
Spring Fling Trio- Beyond Love Starter Set Page 10