Sweet Rose: Baytown Boys

Home > Other > Sweet Rose: Baytown Boys > Page 6
Sweet Rose: Baytown Boys Page 6

by Maryann Jordan


  “Me too!” Jillian called out. “I can always include that at the coffee shop.”

  Sophie was the last to leave, and she looked at the beautiful blonde whose corkscrew curls had been tied back to keep them from getting in her face. “I know we’ve just barely met," Sophie began, “but I wanted to give you my card. I’m an interior designer, and if you have any need for me at all as you are designing the inside of your shop once you get ready for that process, please give me a call. Don’t worry about the cost…consider it a welcome to the town present.”

  Taking the proffered card from Sophie’s hand, her breath left her in a rush at the generosity and Rose hugged her once more. With a final wave as all the women left, she turned around and stared at the large, open, now-clean space that soon would house Sweet Rose Ice Cream Shop.

  7

  Jason spent the afternoon with the music loud, attempting to work on anything and everything he could to keep from glancing across the street. His attempts were thwarted as the Baytown girls descended upon Rose’s store, and he could only assume they were there to help. Later, he looked up to see them leaving one by one. No matter how much he tried to not check out the activity at Rose’s, his eyes narrowed as they spied Ben Sommers walk through her front door.

  An unexpected pang of jealousy slid through him, and he jolted to the side, hoping to get a glance into her building. Slamming his head on the hood of the truck he was working on, he cursed loudly, drawing raised eyebrows from his mechanics. Determined to not look anymore, he abandoned the engine he was working on, giving it to one of his mechanics to finish, and headed into his office.

  Deciding to go to the Pub after work for the first time in weeks, he did not care if Rose was there or not. If she was going to pretend that he did not exist, then he could do the same.

  He watched as his mechanics roared away on their motorcycles or in their trucks, shut the bay doors, and secured the shop. Moving back into the office, he totaled up the day’s cash and checks, locked them in a bank bag, and headed out. He noticed a light on across the street but refused to think about Rose over there working.

  As he walked down the sidewalk of Main Street, he ran into Katelyn strolling her son, Finn. After greetings and commenting on how large Little Finn was getting, he was surprised when she asked, “Have you seen what’s going on across the street from you? Isn’t it great?”

  Realizing that Rose must have never told anyone about their night together, he adopted a nonchalant expression and gave a little shrug. “Yeah, I’ve seen some activity. I’m pretty busy during the days, though, so I don’t pay a lot of attention to what’s going on over there.”

  Her face scrunched as she looked up at him, her blue eyes pinning him to the sidewalk. “You couldn’t hear all the noise we are making today? We had a power washer going on inside.”

  “Well…uh…I had the music pretty loud in the shop.”

  Shaking her head as they continued down the sidewalk, she said, “Rose has been trying to do everything herself, and that place needs a lot of work. We got all the women together, and we decided to power wash the entire inside and shoot the dirty water out into the back alley. The brick is spotless, the wooden floor is clean, and now she can keep doing whatever she needs to do without drowning in a sea of dust and dirt.”

  “Good,” he said, not able to think of another response, but Katelyn was into her story and did not seem to notice he was not talking.

  “It was so funny,” she laughed. “Rose kept calling all of us by the wrong name because she couldn’t see any of us to tell us apart.”

  At that, his head swung around in surprise, and he asked, “Couldn’t see any of you?"

  Katelyn bent toward the stroller to check on Finn, now cooing and chatting to her son.

  Inpatient, Jason said, “Katelyn, go on with your story. You said that Rose couldn’t see?”

  She stood and glanced back at him, nodding. “Her eyesight is not great, and she wears contacts. But there was so much dirt and dust that it made her eyes irritated, so she took her contacts out. That helped her eyes, but then she couldn’t see anything. Everybody with dark hair was called Katelyn, and everybody with blonde hair was called Jillian. I think the only person she got right was Tori because of her red hair.”

  Rubbing his chin, he asked, “So, without her contacts, she couldn’t see very well inside the shop?” When Katelyn nodded in agreement, he continued, “So, she probably couldn’t see across the street, could she?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about her being concerned about traffic going in and out of your garage. Obviously, she knew the garage was there when she purchased the building. I’m sure it didn’t bother her.”

  “Right, right,” he mumbled, his brows lowered, no longer trying to look disinterested. “But it sounds like without her contacts, she wouldn’t be able to see any of us over there.”

  Katelyn laughed and shook her head, “Oh, no, Jason. I doubt she could see to the middle of the street, much less all the way over to your building!”

  They reached the pub, and Katelyn glanced down at his hand. “Weren’t you going to deposit that at the bank?”

  Realizing he still had the bank bag in his hand, he grumbled his thanks, tossed a wave toward Little Finn, and headed back up the street. He deposited the bag in the night vault and then stood on the sidewalk for a moment in indecision.

  His irritation from earlier had disappeared the minute Katelyn explained that there was no way Rose could have seen him standing across the street waving toward her, which also meant she was not specifically snubbing him. Changing directions, he headed away from the pub.

  Rounding the corner at the intersection where his garage was across the street, he headed directly to Rose’s shop. With the paper covering the windows, he could not see in but could tell there was a light on inside. He knocked on the door then pressed his ear to the glass. He could hear music in the distance and wondered if she was working toward the back of the shop. Knocking loudly, he still received no response.

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he hesitated before walking away, the strong urge to see her overshadowing everything else. He walked to the end of the short block, down a side street, to the back alley. It only took him a moment to come to her door, surprised to find it standing open.

  Knocking again, he called out, but with the music louder now, he knew she would not be able to hear him. He stepped through the door, passing an office and small bathroom. The music was coming from the main room, but a slight noise had him turn and peek inside a large storage closet, just as he called out, “Rose!”

  Rose had one flip-flop covered foot standing on the top of a small stepladder and the other foot on one of the shelves in the room as she leaned precariously far to the side, a wet rag in her hand. At the sound of his voice, she startled, her foot kicking the ladder over before scrambling to find purchase on the shelving.

  Rushing forward, he snagged her body as she started to fall, catching her in mid-squeak as a dirty, wet rag slapped up against the side of his head.

  She started to flail about, but he held her easily, saying, “Rose, Rose. It’s me.”

  She stilled, and he shifted her body so that she was now facing him, his arms banded about her middle, and her feet dangled off the floor. Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “Jason? Oh, my God, you scared me to death. What are you doing here?”

  He knew he should set her feet on the ground, but the feel of her in his arms was so nice, he held on to her for another moment. Of course, the wet rag near his face cut into the pleasure of the moment. Glancing to the side, he said, “Uh, do you mind getting rid of that?”

  The rag landed on the floor with a splat, and she gushed, “I’m so sorry." As if just realizing that her feet were dangling off the floor, she wiggled and added, “You can put me down now. I’ll get a paper towel for you.”

  He set her down slowly, and as soon as his arms left her body, she rushed from the closet and into the small bathroom. She re
turned with a roll of paper towels, ripping off several, and immediately began wiping off the side of his face, hair, and beard.

  She stepped back, the wad of paper towels in her hand, and her face scrunched before her eyes landed back on his. “Oh, Jason. I’m not sure I made it any better. I am so sorry.”

  He stared at her carefully, noting she was no longer wearing the pink bandanna on her hair, but her blonde locks were still pulled up in a messy bun. She was still wearing the large overalls, a light blue T-shirt underneath. Flip-flops were on her feet, her pink-painted toenails visible. Her hands were dirty. Her feet were dirty. And her face was completely smudged with dirt as well. His assessment from earlier still stood. Completely ridiculous and utterly adorable.

  He realized he had not said anything when she was staring up at him with a scrunched nose and questioning gaze. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. Shrugging, he chuckled. “Most days I’m either buried in grease or ink, so a little dirt isn’t going to hurt me.”

  His heart lightened as her smile widened, thrilled to discover that she did not appear to be upset at seeing him again.

  “So…um…what are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I’ve wanted to come by, but…well, I wasn’t sure when would be a good time,” he lied.

  “I kept thinking I would see you around town sometime during the last couple of weeks, but except for glances at a distance, I didn’t.”

  Jamming his fingers into his front pockets, he shrugged and said, “I’ve been pretty busy, I guess.”

  Her hands fiddled with the clutched paper towels as she stared up at him. “I should have come by, but after the last time we were together, I wasn’t sure how you felt about me just popping around to say hello.”

  He remembered how guileless she was, and his hands slid from his pockets as he reached toward her shoulders, the desire to touch her as well as comfort her overwhelming. “Oh, Rose, you never have to worry about that.” He shook his head and winced slightly, saying, “I admit it was a little hit to my ego when you were gone the next day, but we both agreed it was just for the—”

  Her hand flew up, landing over his mouth, halting his words. “No!” she all but shouted, her eyes wide as she shook her head back and forth.

  Not daring to speak considering the hand over his mouth still held a damp paper towel, he lifted his brows in surprise.

  “Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry!” Her hand jerked back down, and he watched as pink blush infused her cheeks. Sighing heavily, she shook her head and admitted, “Sometimes I think I’m such a disaster.” Her gaze shifted to somewhere behind him, out into the open area, and she stepped back. Sucking in a deep breath, she lifted her gaze back to his and said, “Would you like to see my store?”

  Chagrined that he had brought up the night they spent together, he understood her desire to change the subject. For a few seconds, he wondered if her offer to show him around was sincere, but as he gazed down at her, he saw a spark of excitement in her eyes again and wanted to keep that expression on her face. “Absolutely,” he confirmed. “I’d love to see what you’re going to do here.”

  She grabbed his hand and hurried past him toward the front. Startled, his fingers instinctively flexed, and he liked the feel of her hand in his. Once they reached the front door, she dropped his hand, and he instantly missed their connection, but her face lit with animation, and he focused on the beautiful woman in front of him. She walked backward several steps, still facing him, and threw her arms out to the side resembling a game show hostess.

  “This will be the eat-in area. There will be tables and chairs because I know some people want to escape the summer heat and have their ice cream inside where it won’t melt so quickly. I don’t want little foo-foo tables that men are afraid to sit in, so I looked at a local furniture store, and they have some great furniture that I might consider.”

  Stepping back several more feet until she was almost halfway into the depth of the store, she spread her arms out again and continued, “My counters and displays will be all along through here.”

  She motioned for him to follow her, and he stalked toward her as she moved into the back of the large space. Turning toward the wall, with her hands dancing in front of her, she explained, “Here will be my counters, refrigerators, freezers, and prep area.”

  He barely heard a word she said as he watched her face brighten as excitement laced her words. He remembered what it was like when he first got his hands on the garage space and began planning where everything would go. Her eyes were lit, her hands waving about, and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet. Passionate about what she was doing and planning, it was easy to understand how frustrated she had been several years ago when her plans were thwarted.

  Suddenly, she was standing in front of him, looking up, her head tilted to the side, and he realized she must have asked him a question. Giving his head a shake, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  “You just seemed a million miles away, and I’m sure I probably bored you with all of this—”

  “No, not at all,” he assured. “I just remembered the enthusiasm that I had when I planned my garage and…um…”

  His voice trailed off, now hating that he had brought up what might be bad memories for her, but she covered her face with her hands, shaking her head back and forth.

  “Oh, don’t feel like you can’t talk about your shop,” she muttered through her fingers. Lifting her head slightly so that her gaze could meet his again, she added, “I’m so embarrassed about how I acted that night. I allowed my anger to get the best of me, which almost never happens. And when I think I actually put my hands on you and pushed you…ugh, I am so sorry.”

  Stepping forward in haste, he placed his large hands on her shoulders and bent so that his face was directly in front of hers. “Don’t apologize, Rose. You were passionate about your business, just like I was. You had plans and goals and dreams and got frustrated when things weren’t working out.”

  She opened her mouth as though to speak, then closed it, nibbling on her lip. Finally, she simply said, “Thank you for that. Thank you for being so generous when I acted like a shrew.”

  They stood for a long moment staring at each other, thoughts of how that night continued upstairs in his apartment filling his mind, but he dared not mention it again. Her light brown eyes seemed to darken, and he wondered if she was thinking of it also.

  Suddenly, her face lit with an impish grin, and she said, “Would you like to see something fabulous?”

  Jolted by her quick turn of topics, he nodded, eager to do anything to spend more time in her presence. “Absolutely.”

  She hesitated, then added, “It’s upstairs.” Grabbing his hand again, she began to drag him back through the building, saying, “Come on!”

  Laughing, he followed her.

  8

  The moment Rose got over her shock at Jason catching her when she fell, she felt the same pull toward him that she had a couple of years ago. Their previous ending had been so awkward. No, that’s not the right word. It was more like just nothing. I just left, and that was the end.

  She had wondered if he was avoiding her, but now that he was in her shop, she found that she did not want him to leave. At least not yet.

  At the top of the first flight of steps, she led him into her apartment. Not wanting to dwell on the bare-bones living arrangement, she led him straight to another door, calling over her shoulder, “It’s up here.”

  She could hear the clomp of his boots on the wooden steps, right behind the slapping of her flip-flops. At the top, she flipped the latch and opened the door. Stepping out into the evening, she grabbed his hand once more, drawing him out onto the terrace. Whirling around, she asked, “What do you think?”

  He kept his fingers linked with hers but swung his head around as he looked out over the town and the bay. Shaking his head, he said, “This is amazing!”

  Bubbling with enthusiasm, she agreed, “I was already sold on the storefront,
and the apartment above was just a bonus. But this? This was like a gift!”

  His gaze shifted across the street to where his building was and mock-complained, “Man, my place doesn’t have this. I was only on the roof one time, but there’s nothing up there.”

  “I’ll bet that you could put something like this in,” she said.

  She grabbed a beach towel that she had left hanging by the door and, reluctantly letting go of his hand, spread it on the floor. Plopping down, she patted the towel space next to her and invited, “Let’s watch the sunset.”

  If he thought that was a dumb idea, he did not say, instead, dropping immediately to the towel. With his long legs and booted feet stretched out in front of him, he rested his upper body on his arms propped behind him. She was very aware that when he sat down, he sat right next to her, with barely any space between their legs. If she leaned ever so slightly, they would touch. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to shake thoughts of Jason naked and horizontal out of her mind. God, when was the last time I got laid? She refused to think of the answer to that question, her body both relaxed with Jason nearby and tingling with tension at the same time.

  Cutting her gaze to the side, she observed him watching the sunset, appearing completely at ease. Yep. I’m a bundle of nerves who could jump him, and he’s totally chill. A sigh slipped from her lips as the sun sank lower in the horizon.

  Just then, the colors of the sky morphed into a deep rose, and she whispered, “That’s where I got my name from.” She felt, rather than saw, his gaze land on her, and she continued, “My parents used to love watching the sunset, and when my mom was pregnant, my dad said the beautiful rose of the sunset captured his attention. It’s my name, and it’s the color that fills the sky each night. He always called me his Sweet Rose.”

  He shifted his upper body forward so that his hands were no longer propping him up and reached over to link fingers with her again. “That’s beautiful, Rose. I really like that name.”

 

‹ Prev