Broken Love (Blinded Love Series Book 2)

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Broken Love (Blinded Love Series Book 2) Page 21

by Stacey Marie Brown


  I watched her head shake, a sob finding its way to my ear.

  “I can’t…” Krista’s voice sounded defeated. Heartbroken. She turned, breaking from his grip and jogging for the house.

  The guy swore, his voice too low to recognize, his fist hitting the tree.

  “Whiskey, come on!” Stevie yelled from the passenger seat, jolting me back to her. The guy’s head swung toward me.

  I strode for the car and hopped in. I pulled away from the curb and took one final glance at the figure. It was probably the light from the porch, but I could have sworn I saw blond hair. But honestly, this whole night was straight out of The X-Files.

  “Ummm, Whiskey?” Stevie tilted her head to me. “Why do you have beard burn and what looks like a hickey on your neck?”

  “Let’s just say Alice fell down a hole she shouldn’t have.”

  “Damn those holes.” Stevie clicked her tongue, winking suggestively. “They trap me every time.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Monday came way too early. At five thirty the beep of my alarm had me begging for those several hours of sleep I didn’t get the night before. Lids still closed, I shuffled to the shower, wishing coffee would rain down on me instead of water. It might have been overload to have coffee before going to a coffee shop, but I didn’t care. My tossing and turning half the night demanded caffeine before I got into the car.

  With the house quiet, I figured everyone was still asleep until I spotted Grandma Penny sitting at the kitchen breakfast bar, her broken leg propped on the empty chair, sipping her coffee and reading the newspaper.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, kissing her on the cheek. “Thought I would be the only one up at this inhumane hour.”

  “The price of getting old.” She put down the paper. “You fall asleep at the embarrassing hour of eight o’clock and wake up before the roosters do.”

  “Please, you are not old.” I reached for the coffee pot and poured myself a cup. “You act younger than anyone I know.”

  “And you act older than any teenager I know.” She smirked, brushing back her mostly gray-streaked hair. “Please tell me you had some fun in Italy, because someday you will look back and wish you took those chances. Acted crazy and young. Adulthood is not as fun as people lead you to believe. You have all the time in the world to be responsible and boring.”

  “I did have fun.” I smiled at her over my mug, recalling the countless times Sammie and I ended up dancing on top of a bar or kissing some random cute guy. There was a blur of months when I took all those chances. We jumped on a flight from Rome to Scotland because a group of guys we met in the hostel wanted us to come to the Edinburgh Festival, and Sammie and I met a band while sleeping in the train station and headed off to Oktoberfest with them. We did a last-minute trip to Barcelona for the weekend and danced until the sun came up again. The bar dancing got old fast, but not traveling; I could do that for the rest of my life.

  “You’ve grown so much in the last year, Jayme. I love watching you blossom.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ in there.”

  Grandma sighed. “I still feel like you are going to Virginia Tech for your father, not for yourself. It is certainly not where you’d choose to study art, right?”

  “No.” I leaned against the counter. It was to satisfy Dad. I would go to Italy then come back and attend V Tech.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Honestly?” A nervous flutter batted at my stomach. “There’s this internship at the Smithsonian… I mean, it’s the freakin’ Smithsonian.”

  “And? What’s stopping you?”

  “The applications have been closed for months. And it is one of the toughest programs to get into. It’s for two years so I won’t be able to apply again until then.” I set down my mug. “Colleen sent a recommendation, but I doubt it was even looked at before chucked in the bin. Caterina, who is top as you can get in the art field, said she had a friend there, but…”

  “But what?” Grandma exclaimed. “You call and ask Caterina if she can put in a word for you.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Grandma Penny shook her head. “Jayme, this world is tough and cruel. Connections are sometimes the only way you get to rise to the top. Of course, hard work and talent are important, but don’t be afraid to go after what you want. Life won’t hand it to you. It will give the opportunity to the person who goes after it. And what does it hurt? She says no, she says no. At least you asked, and you don’t ever have to think ‘what if?’ Don’t go to the college your father wants you to simply to please him. You’ve been through too much to fall back into that habit.”

  Grandma reached for my hand and I leaned over, her fingers gripping mine. “At the end of the day, Noah loves you beyond anything. He just wants you to be happy. It’s natural for parents to want to bubble wrap their kids and put their own ideals on them without even realizing they’re doing it. I did the same with your mother, and we didn’t find happiness in our relationship until I let her be herself. You were so close to not being here at all. Don’t let a day go by you aren’t happy and going after what you truly want.”

  Pressing my lips together, I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I love you so much.”

  “And I love you, my girl. You are truly special. The moment you were born, I could feel it.” She patted my hand. “Now get your butt to work before you’re late.”

  I smiled, hugging her over the counter, before I grabbed my keys from the table.

  “And call Caterina right now. Don’t hesitate or you will start talking yourself out of it,” she yelled after me as I strolled out the front door to my car.

  I inhaled and pulled my shoulders back with determination as I looked up Caterina’s number.

  Don’t let a day go by you aren’t happy and going after what you truly want.

  I hit the dial button.

  “It’s such a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Trinity sang, a happy smile permanently on her mouth as the line for coffee grew longer and longer. “Sun is shining, birds are chirping.”

  Normally her overly exultant mood drove me crazy. I had discovered in this last two years I had a darker streak in me than I ever acknowledged. Thanks to Stevie, a little more grit too. But right now I couldn’t keep the smile off my face, nervous excitement twirling in my stomach like a ballerina. My phone call with Caterina replayed in my head.

  “Ciao.” Caterina’s blunt tone hit my ear, putting me right back in Italy again.

  “Caterina, it’s Jaymerson.” I licked my lips. She still made me nervous as hell.

  “Oh. You. Buona giornata, Jaymerson,” she said evenly. “The girl who’s gone but somehow is still giving me a headache.” I had learned to never take her bluntness personally. She was the opposite of the stereotypically warm Italian woman. She was a slightly less demanding version of Anna Wintour, the editor-in-chief of Vogue, who had made more employees cry or quit by lunch, but Caterina was of the museum world. You did not get her approval or praise for just doing your job; you had to earn it by going beyond. Way beyond.

  “Buona giornata, Caterina.” Good afternoon. “I will get to the point.” One of her biggest pet peeves was wasting her time. “I called to see if…” You can do this, Jayme. “You would be willing to put in a recommendation for me to your friend at the Smithsonian.”

  I couldn’t see her, but by her silence, I could picture her eyebrows curving up in surprise.

  “You know the applications for that internship were closed months ago.” In the distance I could hear the squeak of her office chair, like she was sitting back in it.

  “I am aware.” I tried to swallow, but my throat was too dry, I had to rub it. “I know this is asking a lot. But when you first started, did someone help you? I want nothing more than to be there. You know I work hard, and I will work twice as hard because of you.”

  There was a pregnant pause in which my heart beat so sharply I put my hand on my chest to keep it from bursting
through.

  Using some of my grandmother’s words, I added, “I may not deserve this any more than anyone else applying, but I have to try. Life won’t hand it to me if I don’t ask.”

  “Well, well, Jaymerson.” She almost sounded humored. “You might have more forte than I thought.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “You know I have never recommended anyone before. Ever. Why start with you?”

  The early morning sun aggravated my anxiety, but something about her tone pumped hope into my chest.

  “Because you know I’d be perfect there. That I would prove myself worthy of your reference.”

  She made a curt laugh then curbed it almost before it started. “I will speak with her. Just don’t get your hopes up.”

  “Oh my god. Really?” I tried to hold back my squeal. “Thank you, Caterina. Thank you so much.”

  “Yes. Now, you are simply a headache again.” The phone clicked. Caterina had hung up without even a goodbye.

  I stared at my phone for a full minute before a happy shriek flooded over my tongue, my feet dancing around in place. “Holy shit!” I knew the possibility of actually getting the internship was very remote. But it meant so much to me she was willing to give me a recommendation. She would never act as though she liked you, but for her to do this, I knew I had obtained her respect.

  Now my feet couldn’t stop bouncing around the café; a smile as big as Trinity’s spread across my face. Our combined joy baffled the grumpy, caffeine-deprived customers.

  The herd of confused cattle in my stomach jumped over the cliff when Hunter walked in. At the sight of him, the memory of his lips on mine returned, as did the feel of his touch, the sweet weight of his body on mine. He was why I couldn’t sleep or concentrate on anything the rest of the weekend.

  “Hey.” A smile touched his lips, his lids narrowing, taking in my jubilant mood. “Someone is awfully happy this morning. I know you are an early riser, something I never got to break you of, but chipper?”

  My grin somehow grew bigger, a blush covering my cheeks, remembering when he said that to me.

  “My boss in Italy, the head of the Accademia Gallery, is putting in a recommendation for me to intern at the Smithsonian.” The words gushed out, my excitement not able to be held back.

  “Seriously? The Smithsonian?” His eyes went wide, a smile climbing up the side of his mouth. “That’s fucking amazing, Jayme. Wow… I am so impressed.”

  “Thank you.” I took his travel mug, filling it with coffee. “The chances are slim with so many people applying from all over the world, but if you knew Caterina, just getting her approval feels like winning the lottery.”

  “I’m happy for you.” He reached for the cup, our fingers brushing, causing the stampede to hit bottom and splatter all over. There was no denying our feelings were still there, but our timing wasn’t. “You deserve it all, Jayme.” He tipped his head to the side, repeating the words I told him that night.

  When had it gotten so hot in here? I breathed in, turning away from his gaze that never shied away from boldly watching me.

  “Think I need another biscotti.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “In celebration.”

  I stepped over to the baked goods, my cheeks aching from smiling like a fool as I grabbed the treat for him.

  “Here you are.” I handed the bag to him, his fingers once again curling over mine, our eyes locking as he slowly took the bag from me. “Can’t deny Italians do everything perfect.”

  “I hope not everything.” His eyes drove into mine like a semi before he turned to the door and ran across the street to the garage.

  “Woo-wee, it’s hotter than Satan’s house cat in here.” Trinity fanned herself, her gaze dancing from me to Hunter. “Even Satan’s sweatin’ from the heat between you two.”

  I laughed, shaking my head, straightening the cups next to me to get my blushing under control.

  “Oh please.” She motioned out the window. “You two have more chemistry bubbling between you than a science lab.”

  I continued to ignore her sentiment, busying myself with refilling the napkins.

  “My Andrew and I had that.” She nudged me. “When we met it was like the world dissolved around us. What’s crazy is I still feel that way about him. Yes, he can drive me crazy, but he’ll walk in and smile, and I’m just butter in a frying pan. We’ve been married for almost forty-five years.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing. Very rare.”

  “Yes, it is.” She grabbed my arm. “Not many find that kind of love. If you’re lucky to come across it, you shouldn’t let it walk out the door.”

  “It’s much more complicated than that.”

  “It always is, my dear.” She winked at me. “But it doesn’t make it any less worth fighting for.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  On Tuesday I worked the lunch shift, and I couldn’t deny the disappointment of not seeing Hunter in the morning. Plus, Savannah was on shift with me, and I ruined a couple of croissants when I used them as stress balls. She claimed the till while I got the orders ready. I tried to say as little as possible, but Savannah was the queen of finding and poking at people’s weaknesses.

  “You know,” she leaned on the counter, staring across the street, “I’m totally starting to see the attraction to Hunter. I mean, I always thought he was smokin’ hot, even hotter than Colton.”

  I tried not to snort, knowing that was an utter lie. Or if it was the truth, she never would have claimed it in high school.

  “Of course, you have to look past the fact he’s a loser who will never leave this town or be anything more than a mechanic.” She said the word like it was a disgrace and not a respectable profession. “But his body is screw-me-up-against-a-car hot.” She licked her lips, watching Hunter roll a tire in from outside, his T-shirt sweaty and clinging to his torso. “It’s not like I’m looking for anything more than incredible sex before going back to my boyfriend.”

  “Is your boyfriend aware of this?”

  “He’s at football training for the summer. He might go professional,” she said, still watching Hunter. “We’re keeping things light until we see each other again. I need some fun this summer.”

  I scrubbed a table I had already cleaned, trying not let her get to me.

  “Maybe on my break I’ll go over and visit Aubrey… see how Hunter is doing.”

  “You do that.” I rubbed the surface harder. Don’t let her get to you, I repeated over and over in my head. Plus, I needed not worry. I knew how Hunter would respond to Savannah coming on to him. “Actually, can I come?” I rolled the cloth, walking back to the next table. “That would be hilarious to watch.”

  “You don’t think I could get him? Even with his baby mama, he’d never turn me down.”

  With any other guy besides Hunter, it might be true. Unfortunately, Savannah’s appearance only inflated her ego. She was stunning, a girl most guys would trip over themselves to be with. And she could flirt. Not many men could withstand her undivided attention, even if their lives were on the line.

  “Well, it looks like I don’t need to go to him.” She wiggled her eyebrows. Following her gaze, I viewed Hunter strolling across the street, heading for us, whipping my butterflies into a frenzy.

  Damn. How does he look sexy even sweaty?

  He pushed through the door, his gaze finding me right away. “Hey.” He stepped in. “You weren’t on this morning.”

  “No. Tuesdays are my afternoon shifts.”

  “I guess on Tuesdays I’ll stop bringing my lunch.”

  The fluttering in my stomach went up into my throat, my fingers gripping a chair.

  “Hey, Hunter,” Savannah chimed in. “Can I get you anything?”

  His gaze darted to her, his forehead wrinkling, as though confused by her change in tone.

  “An iced tea,” he said, more like a question, then turned back to me. Her lids lowered as though in shock that he wasn’t fawning. “Wanted to see if you h
ad heard anything from the Smithsonian.”

  Okay, now I really understood the butter-in-a-frying-pan metaphor.

  “No. There’s a good chance I won’t hear anything from them at all. But thank you for asking.”

  He nodded, walking to the counter, paying Savannah for the iced tea.

  “Keep me updated if you do.”

  “I will.”

  He hesitated, his mouth opening then closing again.

  “Was there something else?”

  “Actually…” He exhaled. I could see someone step into the café behind him, but my gaze was locked on Hunter. “I wanted to talk to you about something—”

  “Bellezza!” Hunter’s sentence was cut off as a familiar voice dumped down on me like ice water.

  Holy. Shit.

  “My bellissimo.” Arms came around me, lifting me in the air, squeezing me tight. “I have missed you so much.” He set me back on my feet, his hands cupping my face. “I couldn’t stay away from you any longer, mio amato.” My beloved.

  “Luca,” I croaked, shock paralyzing me in place. He stood there, wearing his glasses, button-up shirt, nice jeans, and loafers, looking like a college professor next to Hunter’s rugged appearance.

  “What-what are you doing here?”

  Luca’s mouth came down on mine, familiar, sweet, kissing me avidly, his hands curling around my ears like they always did. He broke away. “Because I love you, bellezza. Ancora dipendente dai tuoi baci.” Still addicted to your kisses. “When you called me telling me you loved and missed me, I knew I had to come see you.”

  A gruff noise behind Luca dropped my heart into my feet.

  Hunter.

  I stepped away from Luca, peering over to Hunter. The need to explain what really happened that night, to tell him... what, Jayme? What Luca said was mostly true. Why do you need to defend yourself?

  If I expected to find an emotion lingering on Hunter, I was mistaken. He took us in like he was staring at a wall. His blankness felt like a dagger to my heart.

 

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