Beautiful Rose

Home > Other > Beautiful Rose > Page 11
Beautiful Rose Page 11

by Missy Johnson


  The speed with which the place had taken off had suited me perfectly, mostly because it kept my mind off of other things. Other, stunningly beautiful, long curly haired, brown-eyed things.

  Who was I kidding? Nothing kept my mind off her but at least if I was working my mind couldn't dissect every second we spent together, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

  Grabbing my phone and keys, I set out for some breakfast. I couldn't be bothered cooking, so I made my way down to the diner on the corner.

  I walked in to the busy diner and found myself a table in the corner of the room. I’d been here before—they made good coffee—and the service was always fast and friendly. The interior left a lot to be desired, with its blue and white wallpaper and miss-matching tables, but it was typical of an American diner.

  After ordering some coffee and eggs on toast, I pulled out the rosters I'd brought with me, and glanced over them. The fact that it had been so much busier than I'd anticipated meant hiring more staff. Luckily, I'd avoided the need for interviews, because Darcy and Ash both had a few friends who were looking for work. After they had assured me their friends were reliable and hardworking, I had agreed to give them a trial run.

  Over the last week, they had proved to be hard workers and had quickly fit into our little team. Alex had offered to cover a few shifts if I got stuck, but the thought of him working the bar made me laugh. He was less than impressed by my reaction to his offer.

  "Jack."

  I glanced up to see Rose, her brown eyes wide with surprise. She stood awkwardly holding my coffee and eggs for a minute, then set them down in front of me.

  "Rose. You work here?" I said, glancing around in shock. I wanted to punch myself. Of course she works here. What, does she randomly walk into diners and deliver food to customers?

  "Just until I get enough money together to get back into college. My parents kicked me out after . . . I left the hospital," she explained, her cheeks reddening. "I'm only doing a few shifts, and it won’t interfere with the bar." She spoke fast, her expression almost pleading me not to react.

  I nodded as if I understood, but my mind was rolling with thoughts, the least not being how similar this situation had suddenly gotten to Belle. I took in her fitted black tee, my mouth watering at the way her black pants hugged her hips. I swallowed. Thank god she wasn't wearing a uniform, because that would've sent me over the edge. Suddenly her words hit me as though I'd just heard them for the first time. She’d been kicked out of home?

  "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you out with an advance or something . . ." My eyes lowered.

  Or something? And what would that have been, a spot in my bed? My eyes met hers as I tried to figure out what she was thinking. She looked embarrassed, her cheeks reddened and her gaze fallen.

  "I didn't tell you because you've done enough for me. You gave me a job. I didn't want to burden you with all my troubles." She glanced back at the counter. "Look, I've gotta go. I'm almost finished my shift." She smiled apologetically.

  "Why don't you join me when you finish?" I said, my words surprising both myself and her.

  She hesitated.

  "It's a coffee, Rose," I added dryly.

  She nodded, her smile reaching her eyes. The last thing I wanted was for us to be awkward because of last night.

  "Okay. I'll be out soon."

  #

  She sat down next to me. I could tell she was nervous, and I didn't blame her. I'd been acting uncomfortably around this girl for the past two weeks and she deserved some sort of explanation. Especially after last night’s kiss.

  "How was your breakfast?" she asked brightly, trying to ignite the conversation.

  "Good. Did you make it?"

  She smiled, covering her mouth. "Yes. If there is one thing I do well, its cook.” She grinned. “I had to learn to look after myself early, so…”

  "I know exactly what you mean," I murmured. "Except we had a cook, a nanny, a cleaner…you can only imagine the chaos when I eventually moved out on my own." I laughed and she laughed with me. I tried to ignore how beautiful her face became when she smiled.

  "Look Rose, I wanted to apologize for my behavior over the past two weeks. It really has nothing to do with you, there’s just some things from my past that I need to deal with."

  She looked shocked by my revelation. "You have . . . sometimes it feels as though we're getting along really well, and then you close up." She spoke carefully, aware of the line we were balancing on, and not wanting to step over it. "I understand, though. You're my boss, not my friend. I don't expect to have the relationship you have with the other staff. You've known them a lot longer than me," she added.

  And I'm not attracted to them.

  "Still, it's not fair of me, the way I've been acting. I'd like us to be friends," I added. “Come and see a movie with me.”

  She looked as surprised as I felt. I had no idea where that had come from.

  “Okay.” She smiled at me. One look at that face and there was no way in hell friends was going to be enough for me.

  #

  As we wandered down the street toward Holland Theatre, I talked about growing up in London. She was fascinated hearing my childhood stories of Alex and me getting into trouble.

  “Was it a big change moving over here?”

  “Definitely. It’s a completely different world over here. I mean, I lived in London but New York makes London feel like a small town. It was difficult to adapt at first, especially with things like slang and just the differences in lifestyle.”

  “I’d love to travel,” she said wistfully. “I’ve been to a few places with my family, but that’s hardly the same thing. You can’t really embrace the culture of a place from a suite in a five star resort.”

  “Funny, I used to think the same thing,” I chuckled. “Your family, were you close before they kicked you out?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve always felt like I was on the out with my parents. No siblings, not even any cousins…it’s all pretty sad really. When your family is that small you think you’d want to do all you could to preserve it. Not my parents though.” She spoke so nonchalantly, but I suspected that underneath that shell hid a lot of pain.

  We clicked instantly and the more time she spent with me just getting to know one another, the more she relaxed. We decided to skip the movie, and wound up back at the bar. I made us a coffee, while Rose waited. She leaned against the counter of the bar and watched me work my magic with the espresso machine.

  “I love a man who can handle his frother,” she teased, biting her lip as she smiled. Her eyes danced with amusement.

  I chuckled. “Wait till you see what I can do with my tongue,” I quipped.

  I laughed as she blushed furiously. If only she’d heard some of the things that used to come out of my mouth. I placed our coffees on the counter, and Rose carried them over to a booth in the corner. Spotting the pictures I’d taken before the renovations, I reached out for them.

  “Here.” I held the photos out for her. She eyed them curiously and took them.

  “Wow, is this here?” she asked. “What a transformation!” She looked around and shook her head in amazement. “You did a hell of a job. I can’t believe it’s the same place.”

  I nodded as she slid them across the table to me, letting my fingers touch hers. She jumped, pulling her hand away, a hint of a smile on her lips.

  “Come up here,” I said suddenly. I stood up, and made my way to the stage. My guitar sat on the edge of the stage. “I’ll play you something,” I grinned. I pointed to an armchair. “Sit.”

  Positioning myself on the edge of the stage, I began to play.

  I can’t help how I feel, but I still push you away

  How can I get over you when you’re there every day,

  Things move forward, but I’m stuck in the past

  Can’t trust these feelings, can’t trust they’ll last

  Love lost and found, time slowly moves
by,

  I’m scared to move on, but I need to try,

  Love lost and found, you’ve stolen my heart,

  How can something so powerful break me apart,

  “That was amazing,” Rose whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. “Wow.”

  “Thanks. Writing songs helps me put things into perspective,” I smiled. “Maybe one day you’ll sing with me?” I raised my eyebrows, excepting another brush off. If I was anything, it was determined for the world to hear her voice.

  “Maybe,” she said lightly. I laughed. Judging by her expression, you’d think I’d just asked her to jump out of a thirty story building with me. She blushed. “I’m not like you. I hate people looking at me.”

  “Trust me, Rose. When you sing, people would stop and listen. I mean really listen. Sure, people would be staring at you but they’d be thinking exactly what I think; where the hell has this astonishing, extraordinary beauty been hiding herself?”

  She snorted and covered her face. “Please, stop!” she groaned. “Just thinking about it makes me sick.” I inched closer to her, until I stood in front of her. Nudging her knees apart, I bent down until we were eye level. I reached over, my hand tracing the outline of her jaw. She looked up at me, her brown eyes wide. I saw confusion and fear…and anticipation.

  She wanted this as much as I did.

  My hand grasped the back of her neck, my lips crushing against hers in a deep kiss. Our tongues clashed, both desperate to explore each other. This girl made me feel alive. She ignited something so deep inside me that had been buried for so long I wasn’t even sure it existed. My cock hardened as my mind explored the many things I wanted to do to her, most of which involved shredding those clothes from her body, and exploring every inch of her.

  “This is what you do to me Rose, so don’t ever think you’re not special.” My voice came out in a low growl. I stood up, with her gazing up at me, shocked, bewildered. I reached down and tucked her hair behind her ears. “One day I’m going to get you on that stage, Rose. Because there is nothing sexier in this world than your voice.”

  #

  Mr Jefferies purred madly as he rubbed against my thigh. I grinned, tickling him behind the ear where I knew he enjoyed it most. He stepped over onto me and circled around in my lap, before curling up.

  With him happy, I went back to working on my latest song. My notebook had slowly begun to fill with music, some finished and some not. There was always something to inspire my writing. Early on, all of my work had been reflective of heartbreak and loss. It still was, but to a lesser extent.

  My music showed the path I'd taken to heal myself after losing Belle. I was by no means over her—I didn't think I ever would be—but I could think about her now without the sorrow I'd felt when it was all still so raw.

  My latest song was about trying to move on, but I wasn’t getting anywhere with it. Which was kind of how I was feeling about Rose. I wasn't stupid. I knew I felt something, especially after today. I just wasn't sure whether I was ready to move on from Belle.

  That in itself sounded ridiculous to me, because I'd been with Harmony for over a year. But there was a difference in giving yourself to someone physically letting yourself be completely vulnerable emotionally. If anyone had taught me that, it was Belle.

  God, Rose.

  I'd managed to avoid what I was feeling for almost three years.

  Why now? And why her?

  And why did I feel so fucking guilty about it? I was doing my best to push her from my head, but even thinking about another girl in the same way I did about Belle made me feel sick. The last few weeks made me realize that I still had plenty of shit I needed to work out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rose

  After four weeks I was finally beginning to feel at home. The apartment was small, but it had a nice feel about it. Marina was away for the week so I had the place to myself again. Even though we hadn’t spent much time together, we got along really well. Sometimes, when you meet someone, you just know you're going to click.

  But then again, I’d thought the same thing about Jack.

  I pushed him out of my mind—for now at least. Today was about me, and enjoying the day at home.

  I walked through the living room and into the kitchen and headed straight for the cupboards, already knowing what to expect. Sure enough, they were still bare, apart from three granola bars. What, had I thought the grocery fairies might’ve stocked up overnight? No such luck. I was going to have to shop, and then start my “Me” day.

  I grabbed my keys and my phone. Just as I picked it up, it rang.

  "Hi Darce," I said, walking out the door.

  "Hey. Did you get Jack’s text about the work schedules? Can you grab ours? I'd do it, but I'm driving Benj to the doctors and neither of us are on tonight, so . . ."

  "Sure, I was heading out anyway," I sighed, sure this was just another one of Darcy's attempts to get me alone with Jack. Checking my texts, I saw that he had, in actual fact, sent out a message about the rosters. Still, I’m sure given the chance, Darcy would do whatever it took to get Jack and I alone.

  * * *

  I pushed on the side door of the bar, surprised to find that it was open. I stepped inside, listening out for any sign of Jack, or anyone else. Nothing. Just the soft ticking of the clock, over silence.

  “Jack?” I called out. “It's Rose.”

  Still nothing. Well, that’s weird. He wouldn't have left the door unlocked if he'd gone out, so he had to be here. Maybe he was upstairs. I bit my lip. The question was whether or not I should go up there.

  “JACK!” I called out, this time louder.

  Still no response.

  Hesitating, I walked over to the wooden staircase and began to climb it. If I wasn't so nervous about seeing Jack, I'd be freaking out thinking I was going to fall through this thing. I had no idea how this staircase had passed a building inspection. It was rickety and unstable. I felt as though any moment I'd be on the floor of the bar, sporting multiple fractures.

  I stepped off the final stair and onto the landing. His door was slightly open. I nudged it, pushing it open wide enough for me to squeeze through. I looked around. Wow. This place was nice. He had a small living room set up adjacent to the kitchen. It wasn't huge, but it looked cozy. I imagined myself curled up with Jack on the sofa, snuggling in front of the fire . . .

  “Rose?”

  I whipped my head around in shock.

  Oh. My. Lord.

  Jack stood in front of me, wrapped in only a towel. His hair was messy and damp, and he’d clearly just stepped out of the shower. Beads of water fell from the strands of his hair and glistened on his chest. Well that explained why he hadn't heard me. I cringed. Why hadn't I just waited downstairs a little longer? How was I supposed to explain me being in his apartment while he was standing in front of me, naked? More importantly, how was I supposed to not stare at that oh-so-sexy chest? His arms were muscular, too. The towel dipped so low I could see the beginnings of his pubic hair. I turned around, mortified. I'd just been staring at his pubic hair. His pubic hair! And he had to have seen me. My face flamed red.

  “Rose?” he repeated, not bothering to hide his amusement. He liked that I was embarrassed! The bastard was getting off on this.

  “Work schedules,” I muttered. “I'm here for the work schedules.”

  “And you thought you'd find them in my kitchen? Hey, if they’re not there, maybe you should try my bedroom? I think I saw them on the bed,” he chuckled softly. I groaned, willing the ground to swallow me up. “Okay,” he said, still laughing. “Let me get dressed and I'll get them for you. Do you want a coffee or something?" he asked.

  "Tea would be nice," I replied, running my finger along the length of the dining table.

  “How about you make the tea while I get dressed?” he suggested. My eyes lingered over his body once more as he stared back at me.

  Did he like what he saw? I’d picked out a summery floral skirt that finishe
d mid-thigh, and paired it with a cream silk shirt and my trademark black flats.

  Scratch, scratch, scratch.

  "What was that?" I asked, suddenly aware of what sounded like scratching on a wall. Or in a wall? Shit, what if he had squirrels? As well as butterflies I was terrified of squirrels.

  "What?" he said, confused. I put my finger to my lips and listened.

  "That! Do you have a cat? I can hear meowing? Maybe it's stuck outside?"

  "No," he said, grinning. "Do me a favor and open up the second door on the left?" He pointed up the hall.

  I laughed, walked toward the room, positive he was checking out my ass. I opened the door and a very annoyed cat bolted out.

  "Rose, meet my cat, Mr. Jefferies." Jack coughed.

  ‘Mr Jefferies’ was rubbing up against my legs like he was on crack.

  "How old is he?" I asked, laughing as the cat took the seat next to me so he could continue his assault. He purred, jumping onto my lap, every now and then turning around to glare at Jack.

  "He's about seven. I found him back home in London."

  "And you brought him over here when you moved? God that is the sweetest thing I've ever heard." I giggled.

 

‹ Prev