by Lacey Black
“Then you must be a little batshit crazy yourself,” I add humorously.
When I’m greeted with more laughter, I finally allow myself to smile and relax.
“You might be a little right, but I’ve discovered that sometimes a little crazy is just what you need.” He looks over once more and winks before returning his attention back to the road.
The ride is filled with pleasant silence as we make our way towards our destination, which he has yet to share with me. All of the shops in downtown are closed up for the night, with the exception of the occasional bar or restaurant. We bypass all of them though, and head towards the east edge of town.
Lights reflect off the Bay as we pull into one of Jupiter Bay’s finest steakhouses. It’s situated along the water with floor to ceiling windows along three sides. A large wooden deck spans the entire length of the building and butts right up against the coastline. It used to be one of my favorite places when I was younger, but since my return, I’ve only eaten here once. I’m surprisingly excited for dinner.
With Ryan.
He comes around to the passenger side and helps me down from the truck. I’m glad I settled on the dress. Even though it’s casual and the atmosphere laid back, it’s the perfect fit for dinner along the Bay.
Hand in hand, we make our way to the large wooden front door of Helena’s. As we approach the hostess, I take in the low lighting and the busy dining room. Even the outdoor deck appears to have several occupied tables, though it’s in the upper fifties.
“Reservation for Elson.” His smooth, velvety voice rockets through my body, sending tingles of awareness to settle directly between my legs. His voice is an aphrodisiac for the hormonally challenged.
“Right this way, sir.”
The older woman leads us through the dining room to the back area. An empty table is situated in the corner, surrounding us with glass on two sides. The tables are just far enough apart that you can hold a private conversation without everyone around you knowing your business.
Ryan’s hand on my lower back shocks me. Not in surprise, but in comfort. Natural. It’s intimate and does even more damage to my frayed and neglected lady parts than his voice.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you yet, but you look beautiful tonight,” he says after taking his seat across from me.
“You didn’t get a chance because you were being grilled about protection from my grandpa,” I state with a smile. I’m rewarded with one in return as I add, “And thank you. You look very nice yourself.”
Truth is he’s frickin’ hot! But I can’t say that. Not today, not ever. He’s just the type of guy I should be avoiding. Gorgeous, cocky, one who will evoke the desire to throw caution to the wind, along with my panties.
I squirm a little in my seat as we order drinks and an appetizer. Ryan’s attention is one hundred percent devoted to me, which is a pleasant change from Gavin. His nose was always in his phone or attention given to someone around us. Even when he was sitting right in front of me, it always felt like he was only there in body, not in mind.
“Tell me a little about yourself,” he encourages as he takes a drink from the beer bottle the server just delivered. “I know you work at your sister’s flower shop, or have for a week.”
“Yes, it was my first week and it was harder than I thought it’d be. I’ll have to stop teasing Pay so much about the simplicity of working with flowers.” There’s a long silence at the end of my statement as if I don’t quite know what to say next.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna give me?” he asks, a single eyebrow arched upward.
“What do you want to know?” But I really don’t want to hear the answer to my question.
“Well, let’s see. You live with your inappropriate grandparents and dad. There’s more there, I’m sure.”
Twisting my wine glass between my fingers, I contemplate how much I want to reveal. “I’m the second to oldest of six, all girls. My mom died when I was fourteen from ovarian cancer. My dad, who’s a pilot, was gone a lot for work, and when my mom died, he needed help. Her parents moved across town and into our home to help raise me and my sisters so my dad could still provide for us.”
“That’s very admirable of them. I’m sure your dad appreciated it.”
“Oh, he did. He changed jobs, though, about a year after she died. He went from commercial airlines to private jets. The pay was better and he wasn’t gone quite as much.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your mom.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, trapped in the sincerity in his eyes.
“So six girls, huh?” he asks, taking another drink from the bottle.
I chuckle. Everyone seems to get hung up on the fact that my parents had all daughters and no sons. “Yeah, six girls in eight years. I’m pretty sure they kept trying for the elusive boy. I think when she got pregnant the fifth time and it was twin girls, well, I guess you better take what God gave you and just be happy.”
Ryan whistles and shakes his head. “Damn. Your dad was trapped in the house with all you women? No wonder he traveled so much for work,” he adds with a grin.
“What about you? Where’s your family?” I ask after we order dinner.
“My parents are in upstate New York, as is my little sister Dena. Plus I have two brothers on the west coast, Brock and Trent. I talk to them all whenever I can, but it’s never enough for their liking, ya know?”
“Yeah,” I reply, recalling how much my sisters and I talked while I was in Cleveland. I spent the entire five years of my relationship with Gavin talking to my sisters because they were more accessible than he was. He was always in a meeting or prepping for a client. Always something other than me.
“What’s with that face?” he asks, pulling my attention back to him.
“What face?”
“You looked lost in a memory for a minute.”
“Yeah,” I reply again.
“Wanna tell me about it?” he hedges.
Now it’s my turn to chuckle, though mine sounds hollow. “Well, that’s more of a third or fourth date conversation.”
“So it’s about a guy?” There goes that damn eyebrow again.
“Isn’t it always?” After a pregnant pause, I try to steer the conversation back to safer waters. “What brought you to Jupiter Bay?”
“Would you believe me if I said a woman?” That cocky smile slides easily across his full lips. I chuckle at the irony of the fact that I ran home to Jupiter Bay to escape the memory of a man, while Ryan evidently ran towards this place, chasing a woman.
“Isn’t it always?” I ask, revealing my own smirk.
“Touché,” he replies with the tip of his beer bottle.
“Tell me about it,” I encourage as our server delivers sizzling prime rib and twice baked potatoes.
“Let me get this straight: You can ask about my past, but I can’t ask about yours?” Ryan asks while cutting a chunk of meat off his juicy steak.
“Exactly,” I tell him with a smile before savoring the rich flavors and seasonings on my own slice of steak.
“Her name was Sara. We met in New York and dated off and on for a bit. She was a little fish in a big pond there, and well, she didn’t like it. She requires a lot of attention. So, when she decided to move back to her hometown, I moved with her. The relationship was good at the time, but unfortunately, it didn’t last more than five minutes after we moved here.”
“But you stayed?” I ask, finding myself surprisingly interested in Ryan’s story.
“Yeah, I stayed. I kinda fell for this small town. I met Mary, who is my office assistant, almost immediately after moving. She’s a hoot. I’ll have to introduce you soon.” Ryan’s eyes sparkle under the low lighting as he goes on to tell me about how he met Mary, as well as his neighbor and landlord, Mrs. Hanson. Of course, Jupiter Bay being the small town that it is, I’ve met both ladies before on numerous occasions. Mrs. Hanson has played bridge
with grandma for years, and Mary Simons worked at the same diner I waited tables at my senior year of high school.
“So, this woman…Sara. She broke your heart?” I ask, my gut tightening with something I’m not really liking. Jealousy.
Ryan smiles a broad, sexy grin. “I wouldn’t go that far. She eventually showed her true colors almost as soon as we set foot in town. It might sound cruel, but I’m relieved to have discarded the excess baggage.”
I look at him for several seconds, contemplating whether to ask more questions or not. I’m curious, sure, but I don’t want to seem too pushy for information. Especially on a relationship that appears to have ended somewhat badly.
Glancing over his shoulder, my eye catches on someone familiar. As I watch my brother-in-law, Chris, sit down at the booth, things start to click into place.
“Ryan?” I ask. “Would your Sara happen to be Sara Sullivan?”
His forehead creases as he shoots me a puzzled look. “How’d you know?”
“Because she just walked in and is sitting with my brother-in-law.”
My heart rate spikes as I watch Sara fawn all over my youngest sister’s husband. While my first reaction is to walk over there and give Chris a piece of my mind, I know his job has required him to wine and dine prospective clients from time to time. As a financial consultant, he’s been known to. I just wish it wasn’t Sara Sullivan.
Chris seems to notice me about the time Sara rubs his forearm. He quickly pulls back and offers me a polite wave. Sara, seeing his attention drawn somewhere else, turns and follows his line of sight. When she sees me–and her ex–she quickly stands up and heads in our direction, a bit of extra swing added to her approach.
Sara freaking Sullivan.
My arch nemesis.
And Ryan’s ex-girlfriend.
Just who I wanted to deal with tonight.
Chapter Six
Ryan
As soon as I see Sara heading this direction, the wood I was sporting under the table while watching Jaime enjoy her food dies a quick, painful death. Out of all the restaurants in town, why in the hell does she have to be in the same one I’m in on my first date with Jaime? I’ve been fortunate enough to barely run into her since the break-up–it’s not like we run in the same circles–so why in all things holy is she strutting up to my table now with a Cheshire cat grin and a gleam in her eyes that scream trouble.
“Well, look who we have here,” she coos as she closes the distance until she’s standing close enough that I can smell her expensive perfume. “If it isn’t my friend Ryan Elson. How have you been?” she asks, bending down and offering me a cheek. It’s tempting as all fuck to ignore her gesture, especially when she’s dropping four inches of exposed cleavage in my face.
Been there, done that. Wasn’t worth the t-shirt.
I give her a polite, chaste kiss on the cheek out of courtesy to the patrons around us. I’m not one to cause a scene, especially while on a first date with a woman I had to work my ass off at securing in the first place. When she lingers a little too long while bent over me, I clear my throat and pull back. My eyes lock on the shocked green ones of my date.
“Sara, it was very nice to see you again.” Lie. “But as you can see, I’m enjoying dinner tonight with a friend.”
Sara turns and stares at Jaime for several heartbeats as if trying to place her. “Oh my gosh! Is that James? I haven’t seen you since graduation!” Sara screeches in that fake, overzealous, completely irritating and overly exaggerating tone that makes my skin crawl.
My eyebrows shoot skyward. The mortification mixed with anger is written all over Jaime’s face, instantly pissing me off on her behalf. Obviously, these two know each other, and if I’m reading the scene accurately, I’d say it wasn’t a pleasant knowing.
“Sara,” Jaime mumbles through gritted teeth.
“Wow, you look good! So, like, you’re back in town now, right? I heard all about your episode. I’m so sorry,” Sara purrs sympathetically as she drops her hand onto Jaime’s forearm. But I see the malice lying just below the surface. It wasn’t something I was able to define for the first part of our relationship, but towards the end, I was always able to see the bitchy, condescending side that she tried to hide.
“Episode?” Jaime asks, the hand holding her glass stopping halfway to her mouth.
“Yeah, the breakdown. I heard all about the guy who left you at the altar and stuff. I can’t believe that happened to you. I mean, who does something so mean?”
It takes everything I have not to crawl across the table and wring Sara’s boney little neck. Jaime’s eyes drop to her plate and refuse to move. Her chest rises drastically, as if she’s fighting off her emotions. Could be anger, could be despair. Could be a little of both.
Either way, I’m done with this conversation.
“Listen, Sara, we’re enjoying dinner right now. I’m sure you don’t want to keep your friend waiting. Thank you for stopping by the table.” I don’t say a word about it being nice to see her, because it wasn’t. Not after the stunt she just pulled with Jaime.
“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you both around town. It’s not like anyone can hide in a small town,” she smirks before wiggling her fingers and flitting away.
For the first time, the silence is awkward between us. Jaime still refuses to look up from her plate, and leaves me uneasy and filled with uncertainty. I don’t like it.
“Can I ask you something?” I finally ask, her beautiful green eyes finally looking up for the first time in several long minutes. Her slight nod encourages me to continue. “Are we getting dessert here or over at Ice Cream Emporium?”
My question seems to shock her as the surprise registers on her gorgeous face. She opens her mouth, but no words come out. I don’t hide my grin. Jaime probably thought our date was essentially over when my ex showed up, but she’d be wrong. If anything, I’m invigorated to discover more about this complex, shy woman, if not completely determined to peel away each individual layer until I discover the real woman beneath.
Dropping my napkin onto my plate and a few bills on the table to cover the check, I extend my hand towards her. She’s hesitant at first, but her eyes flash grateful as she takes my hand and stands up.
***
Sharing a booth, I dip my spoon into her hot fudge sundae while she steals a bite of my strawberry shortcake. The way she licks and sucks on her spoon causes a stir in my pants once more. I never thought eating could be so damn sexy until I’ve watched Jaime Summer lick melted ice cream off a spoon.
“So, aren’t you going to ask me about what Sara said at the restaurant?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I figured if you wanted to tell me, you would,” I say as I take a big bite of strawberries.
Jaime’s silent for several seconds as if contemplating whether or not she wants to speak. “James was a stupid nickname I was given early in high school. I don’t remember who started it, but Sara was the one who latched onto it and made sure everyone used it.”
“What does it mean?” I ask.
“I was a late bloomer so they called me James because I resembled a boy. It didn’t matter that I had long hair. I had no boobs, no butt, and was as curvy as a two by four.”
I hear the words she’s saying, but I don’t see it. My eyes devour her ample chest, the arc of her hips, and the lushness of her body. Jaime is one hundred percent all woman. “Well, looks like you had the last laugh,” I state bluntly.
When my eyes crash into hers, her cheeks are a sexy shade of pink. “I guess,” she adds shyly. “Anyway, they called me James up until I left town for college.”
I study her from the corner of my eye as she finishes off her own dish of vanilla with fudge. She seems pensive as she looks down at her empty bowl. Her eyebrows arch and little wrinkles furrow around her eyes. Even when she’s deep in thought, she’s stunning.
“And just so you know, there was
no breakdown.”
I smile over at her to try to ease her worry. Jaime seems like the type who carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, but doesn’t seem to be recovering from any sort of mental breakdown. “Okay.”
“Okay? You’re just going to take my word for it that I didn’t go crazy and freak out?”
“Yep. Do you know why?” I ask, moving my bowl away and reaching for her hand. She shakes her head, so I continue. “Because I trust you.”
“You do?” Her words are full of surprise and happiness.
“Yep. Even if you did, it’s not my place to judge. Maybe someday you’ll feel comfortable enough to tell me the story about the breakup. Until then, I’ll take as much of your time as I could get from you.”
And that’s the God honest truth. There’s something about this woman that does it for me. I’d never admit this aloud, but she has me picturing white picket fences, three kids, and a cat. It’s scary and exhilarating at the same time. Especially because I don’t like cats.
After ice cream, we enjoy coffee and plenty of conversation right there at our booth. We talk about everything: my business, her work at the flower shop, some of our college stories, and even a bit of our childhoods. She’s easy to talk to, and if it weren’t for the ice cream shop reaching its closing time, we could probably sit and chat for the better part of the night.
We visit for a little more while we head back to her house. I’m not ready for the night to end, but it’s after ten, and I don’t want to push my luck. Jaime’s quiet as I pull into her driveway and shut off my truck. With leaded feet, I head around to the passenger side and help her from the big vehicle.
Neither of us says a word as I guide her up the walkway, my hand protectively and possessively resting on her lower back. Standing on her front porch, the night air wrapped around us as the crickets chirp and the waves crash in the nearby Bay, I long to wrap my arms around her slender body and lose myself in a kiss.
But I won’t. Not tonight.
The gentleman’s rules of dating state that making out like school kids shouldn’t come until at least the second date. Of course, this is a rule I’ve never followed up to this point. At all. But something tells me, with Jaime, I need to take this nice and easy. No need to ram my tongue down her throat and risk scaring her off for good.