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Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2)

Page 6

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp


  “I… yes. I’m sorry it took so long, and I hope it’s not an imposition,” I began hesitantly. “But I want to do this, and I’d appreciate any help you could offer.”

  This was my start, I was going to do whatever it took to tear down the bricks holding me hostage and use them to lay a new path for my future—a future that would be completely my own.

  Mick

  “Knock, knock!” I tapped lightly on my neighbor’s door, knowing today was the day she’d been waiting for.

  “I’m. So. Excited,” Gwen squealed loudly as she opened the door, still in scrubs from her shift last night.

  Just as excited, but much slower because of his age, Oscar appeared, yapping at my feet.

  I laughed as she let me inside.

  Her condo mirrored the look of mine—boxy kitchen in to the right of the doorway, in front of that was the dining and living space with a sliding door to a small deck that faced the ocean. Around the counter that separated that space from the kitchen was a small hallway with the half-bath and then the door to the bedroom.

  I’d started renting the condo next door about a year ago. Even though Miles was my twin, the two of us were as different as night and day, so sharing a space was out of the question. When Gwen realized I was a carpenter, she pleaded with me to help her remodel her condo since she’d just purchased it.

  Truth was, Madison Construction was pretty swamped with business since we partnered with Eli, even more so now that he was busy helping Laurel get things moving again at Roasters; I’d taken over a bunch of the scheduling and project management in the last month and a half.

  But I’d promised Gwen I’d help her remodel her place before everything had picked up, and I wasn’t goin’ to break my word.

  Gwen reminded me of my younger sister, Jessa. Lively, vibrant, and a heart of gold. Probably why I got along so well with her.

  Jessa lived with her boyfriend in Colorado. She’d always been more of a mountain girl and, even though I missed her like crazy, she was happy, so I couldn’t complain. But it was all the more reason I was grateful for Gwen’s easy, sibling-like friendship.

  “Alright, let’s see what the situation is.” I nodded for her to lay out everything she wanted done.

  She clapped and led me into the living room, turning to face the counter.

  “So, I want all of this removed.” She patted her hand on the laminate dividing the kitchen and the living room.

  “The counter or the whole bar?” I raised an eyebrow.

  She peeked over her shoulder and grinned. “The whole thing,” she continued before I could get another word out. “I want to put an island there instead and then” —pointing to the wall that the current bar was attached to—“extend that counter down the wall and turn it into a wet bar, complete with minifridge below and wine rack above.”

  I laughed. She hadn’t been kidding when she said she wanted to make this place her own. “Anything else?”

  “Well, since you asked…” She spun and pointed to the side wall in the living room. “I was also hoping for a new mantle built around the fireplace.”

  I rubbed a hand over my mouth, looking back and forth between the different projects, my mind already sifting through materials, approximate measurements, and time frame of when I could get this done.

  “It’s not really that much. I mean, it’s just mostly the kitchen, right?” She laughed sheepishly. “It’s not that much. Tell me it’s not that much.”

  I rested my fingers on my hips and let out a soft chuckle.

  “I can’t tell you it’s not that much,” I drawled wryly. “But I can do it. Gonna take me a few weeks though.”

  Her shoulders sagged and her smile grew. “Oh, there is absolutely no rush. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it. Oh! I’ll also have a key made so you can work while I’m at work. Sometimes I get stuck at the hospital, so I don’t want my absence to slow you down.”

  “Alright.” I looked around the space again. “If you have a few minutes, I’ll get you a preliminary list of what I need. You’ll also need to pick out finishes for the counter—if you want granite or laminate—”

  “Oh, I already picked those out. Don’t worry,” she informed me. “I always like to be prepared.”

  “Wasn’t in the realm of worry, Gwen,” I teased, pulling out the small notepad I kept in my pocket that had a tiny pencil shoved in the spine.

  That small pencil was about the only part of me that would fit in at Rock Beach Resort. Then again, for all I knew those things were only used to keep score in minigolf.

  “Oh, one more thing.” She raised a hand and approached me.

  “Just one more?” I teased, eyeballing the amount of space I had to put an island in there. “I think at one more, I might as well just knock down the whole building and start from scratch.”

  She huffed. “Not one more thing for you to do. Just one more thing I wanted to let you know.” She folded her arms and stood next to me. “Jules Vandelsen is going to be—”

  Gwen broke off at the soft knock on the door.

  I watched her mouth open and close and even though no noise came out, I knew what was about to happen. Before she even mentioned Jules, I felt something come over me—a primal protectiveness.

  And the need to stake my claim.

  Jules

  My smile—the one I’d spent a lifetime perfecting so that it never fell—faltered.

  He was here.

  Gwen’s sunny smile greeted me, but even that was dim compared to the man standing behind her. A now-familiar pang hit both my head and my chest, seeing Mick again.

  My pulse slowed into heavy, lumbering thumps, the air feeling like it was being vacuumed up from my lungs.

  And then a small round ball of fur with a very high-pitched bark darted around my ankle and broke my trance.

  “Oh, Jesus Mighty, Oscar.” Gwen huffed, bending down to scoop up the excited dog. “Jules, this is Oscar. I won’t even pretend to promise that he won’t do this every time he sees you.”

  I smiled and reached out to let him lick my palm before attempting to pet him. “Nice to meet you, Oscar.”

  “Come in, come in.” She ushered me inside, tipping her head toward the man occupying her kitchen. “And you know Mick already…”

  I heard her but my eyes could only see him as my heart fell into my stomach. They were together…

  “Of course.” My chin dipped to both acknowledge him and avoid his gaze. “Nice to see you again.”

  Why was I reacting this way?

  “You, too, Miss—Jules,” he corrected himself and I shivered, hearing my name on his lips.

  Goodness, how was a woman supposed to not be affected by that accent?

  The resort had seen its fair share of actors, politicians, and wealthy tourists from all over the world, from lilts to brogues, I’d heard every variation—and none had an effect like his.

  His Southern drawl put a slow burn on every word.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Mick didn’t just ask the question, he actively looked for the answer. His eyes roamed over my head and face, trailing quickly and politely down my body—making me wish I owned more than one pair of defiant denim—before locking on to my gaze.

  He didn’t just want to hear a polite answer. He wanted the truth.

  I bit my lip, feeling my balance sway ever so slightly at the off-putting thought. I didn’t know the last time someone other than Laurel or my grandfather had asked with this kind of raw sincerity.

  “Getting better every day, thank you,” I replied quietly, trying not to linger on the warm sensations fluttering through my veins like dandelion flakes. Remembering myself, I turned and complimented my host, “Your apartment is lovely, Gwen.”

  My mother would’ve had a heart attack for how little attention I’d given to the woman who’d invited me into her home.

  Be polite, not presumptuous. Be demure, not decisive. Accommodating, not assertive.

  Be
everything and nothing all at the same time.

  “Oh, just wait,” she promised, setting Oscar back down on the ground now that he’d mostly settled. “It’s going to look totally different in a few weeks once we remodel this kitchen, isn’t that right, Mick?” She winked at him.

  “Oh, that’s exciting.” The tightness in my chest melted under the heat of Mick’s gaze; it never left me, even as he nodded in response.

  “Before we get going, can I get you something to drink?”

  I swallowed over the lump in my throat. “J-Just a tall drink of water, please.” Oh, God. “I mean, water. Water is fine.”

  Blushing, I turned away from the man making my mouth dry. I was making a fool out of myself. Me. The woman who’d spent most of her life being trained on how to remain composed and perfectly proper in public.

  Pull yourself together, Jules. You’ve seen handsome men before.

  “I’m so glad you could come today,” Gwen exclaimed, handing me a glass of water, and ushered me over to the couch. “I felt so bad when you called and I had to put you off over the weekend, but I was covering a friend’s shift who’s on vacation, and trust me, after that many hours, I’m practically a zombie—No. Worse than a zombie. I probably wouldn’t even remember where the brain is after sixteen hours on.”

  I chuckled, loosening up a bit even though I still felt the heat of Mick’s gaze on me as I sank into the gray couch.

  Gwen had been very apologetic about having to push our meeting to Monday, but though I was eager, I didn’t mind. My parents left on Saturday for LA, and it was easier to not have to explain—or argue about where I was going. It ended up not mattering anyway; my father didn’t even stop in to say goodbye, and my mother brushed it under the blanket of resort-related stress.

  I’d seen him become short and irritable from time to time with the responsibilities of the resort but never like this. Ever since I’d been in the hospital, there was this weight on him he just couldn’t shake.

  “So, do you have any questions you want to ask to start? Or should I just start rambling? I’m perfectly happy to do either.” She beamed at me.

  Just as I went to respond, the tiny Pomeranian jumped up in my lap with a yap.

  “Oscar!”

  “I don’t mind.” I chuckled as the dog had no intention of listening to Gwen as he tried to climb from my lap to lick my face.

  “I’m so sorry. He’s too friendly for his own good,” she groaned, but her disapproving stance was broken by the loving smile on her face. “Darn pup always manages to steal all the attention.”

  I laughed as his tongue caught my chin. “That’s okay. He’s so sweet.”

  I’d never been around dogs this friendly. Another thing my childhood had lacked—pets of any kind.

  The resort allowed dogs on the property and in some of the rooms, but the ones that came were never like this. They were all reserved and trained, just like their owners, to keep their distance.

  “Oscar,” she chided. “Why don’t you go see Mick?”

  She pointed to where Mick was leaning with one hip against the counter, his muscles stretching the back of his tee as he measured around the counter. And then the ball of fur was gone, bounding over to the massive man for attention.

  “So, it depends what degree you are looking to get. Carmel Community College has a great associate’s program that you could do. If you are looking to get your bachelor’s, then I would check out Monterey University or, if distance really isn’t an issue, there are a few schools I would recommend in San Francisco,” Gwen rambled, plopping down on the gray suede ottoman in front of me.

  Meanwhile, I was struggling to take my gaze away from the gorgeous giant who was playing so tenderly with the tiny dog.

  “Now, do you have a degree already and you are just switching careers? I’m sorry, I can’t remember if you told me already…”

  My gaze snapped back to her before it fell. “No. I don’t have a college degree.”

  I hoped Mick wouldn’t see the heat in my cheeks even if he had heard my confession.

  Having a degree didn’t guarantee success in life, I knew that. And it definitely didn’t guarantee that you were a good person. But of all the people in the world, I was one who, from an outsider’s perspective, had no excuse for not going to college.

  “Well then you’ll fit right in with most of the people in your class,” she replied with a smile and without falter, making my discomfort wither and fade. “So, I’m assuming since you’re coming to me and allowing me to dump all my crazy excitement onto you, that you don’t really know anyone else in the nursing field?”

  I shook my head to confirm, figuring it pointless to admit that, besides my own stay in the hospital, the closest I’d come to the healthcare field was dining with the corporations and insurance CEOs who owned it.

  “Great! Well hopefully only some of my crazy rubs off on you.” She giggled. “So, let me ask you this. What do you do now? Becoming a nurse can be overwhelming, so, for people just starting out, I like to try to highlight some skills you already have so you can go into this process with some confidence.”

  The weight in my chest doubled as my heart sank like a stone. “I don’t have a job. I-I mean I work for the resort, sort of, but I don’t really do anything or have any skills.”

  I don’t have skills.

  I’m just a pretty face in fancy clothes.

  Her head tipped to the side, but all I could find in her expression was curiosity. Even still, I didn’t dare look at Mick. He knew who I was—or who I was supposed to be.

  “Well, I find that hard to believe,” she scoffed. “Okay, so you work at Rock Beach. Let me think…” She hummed for a second and Oscar trotted back over to hop up on the couch and join us. “So, I guess a hospital is kind of like a resort. Obviously not one people typically look forward to going to, but there is still, what I imagine, several similarities between the two,” she began, scratching the top of Oscar’s head while she listed off her thoughts. “But I would say the biggest and most important parallel would be the idea of how you treat people and how you want their experience to be.”

  I nodded slowly, though my mind quickly followed on her train of thought.

  “Tell me exactly what you do there,” she instructed kindly. “Whatever it is. Big or small.”

  “I talk to guests. My parents handle all the business conversations, so I really just come in to befriend people. Make them feel welcome and important. Our guests pay a lot of money to be there so it’s important we make them feel like they are our sole focus, that they are the king of the castle, so to speak.”

  That last was verbatim from the Rock Beach Bible my parents had engrained in my head over the years.

  “Perfect.” Gwen’s face lit up.

  My mouth dropped open—unladylike and aghast.

  “W-what? That’s not perfect.” I laughed weakly. “That has nothing to do with healthcare. That’s not a skill. Complimenting people isn’t a skill. It’s nothing. I’m nothing…” I shook my head, suddenly overwhelmed hearing how little a contribution I made to the world around me. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I shouldn’t—”

  “Jules.” Gwen grabbed both my hands, trapping them in hers and against Oscar, who couldn’t have cared less as long as it meant he didn’t have to move from his spot. “First, breathe. Second, listen very carefully to what I’m about to tell you.”

  I gulped, my heart still anxiously racing.

  “What you have… what you do… might just be the most important thing that you can give to a patient.”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded.

  Did she even know what she was talking about? Maybe she was crazy.

  “School can teach you skills. It will teach you how to take vitals and how to draw blood. It will teach you signs and symptoms for diseases that you’ll never be able to pronounce. But what it can’t teach you is what you already know—the most important skill a nurse can have: compassion. That kind attenti
on, the care you take to make someone feel important and well taken care of, like they are the only person in the world… I’d take a nurse who has that any day over someone with years of experience.”

  Swallowing slowly, I took in what she was saying, letting the words soak into my insecurities and begin to erode them.

  “The circumstances between Rock Beach and the hospital are different, but the reasons, the rationale, the absolute necessity for that kind of consideration for the guests, so to speak, is one of the best skills you can come to this profession having,” she assured me. “Because I can tell you right now, it won’t be something you learn in school.”

  It took a second for me to nod, surprised not by her words, but by the realization that I might have something to offer.

  “I hadn’t thought of it like that,” I confessed.

  “Sometimes, it’s hard to see the forest through the trees.” Her calm confidence made me comfortable—it was what made me comfortable those days in the hospital, too.

  Her cell began to ring, and she jumped slightly. “It’s the hospital, sorry,” she apologized as soon as she saw the caller ID. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  She disappeared into her bedroom to take the call.

  And it only took another second for me to realize I was alone with the unnerving man who was still working quietly in the kitchen.

  Judging from his expression, his full focus had left his task some time ago.

  “Don’t underestimate yourself,” he said firmly.

  I took a deep breath, disregarding the confirmation that he’d heard everything, and blurted out. “But what if I’m not any good?”

  Why was I even asking him?

  Because, for whatever reason, I knew he’d tell me the truth.

  “You’ll be good at anythin’ you put your mind to,” he replied smoothly, one side of his mouth quirking into a dimple that appeared through his sandy stubble.

  Heat pooled into my stomach and I hardly noticed as Oscar jumped up on the couch and curled into my lap.

 

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