Surrender to Me (I Surrender Trilogy Book 2)

by James, Monica

  Welcoming the gentle wind, as it’s exactly what I need to cleanse my nostrils of Jasper’s delectable scent. He was surprisingly a great help, and brought up some valid points when deciding on the overall menu selection. Jasper sitting so close to me while working with Sally, was not the best idea, as his scent alone was enough to have my insides rising in mutiny, demanding I get closer to the source of that mouth-watering fragrance.

  Walking over to my car, I am struggling to carry the million and one items while attempting to find my keys in my bag.

  Jasper chuckles while placing a box on the trunk of my car.

  “Let me help you,” he says, attempting to unload me of my loot.

  “No, I'm okay,” I mumble, as I can't deal with flirty and chivalrous Jasper all in one day.

  “Ava, don't be silly. Where are your keys?”

  Attempting to juggle the catering paraphernalia in my hands to prove a point, the Gods of course are laughing down at me as I drop everything onto the asphalt.

  My eyes widen in terror as I look at my handiwork strewn all over the ground.

  “Oh crap!” I curse, dropping to my knees to recover the items, and to also hide my bright red blushing cheeks.

  Jasper is also on his knees helping me recover my goods. “I hate to say it, but I told you so,” he huskily jokes while holding up a decapitated bride and groom cake topper.

  Snatching it out if his hands, I examine the sad sight. “It’s fine, nothing a little super glue won't fix.”

  I am so dead when V gets her hands on me.

  “Yeah, that’s only an option, if you can find the head,” he says, holding his sides in fits of laughter.

  Peering around to see if I can retrieve the discarded limb, his deep throaty chuckle distracts me, and I playfully push him in the chest, but he's too quick as he catches my hand, holding it prisoner against his heart.

  Our laughter suddenly ceases, and we both peer down at our interlocked fingers, resting on Jasper’s chest.

  I slowly raise my eyes to his, and I see it.

  He is still affected by me, and in a circumstance where I should be swiftly removing my hand from my ex-boyfriend, I do the opposite. I lightly squeeze his fingers and give him a warm smile. I am expecting Jasper to retreat, but he surprises me by squeezing my hand in return.

  To passerbys we must look a sight, but the outside world doesn't exist in this moment. The only thing I can feel, smell and see is Jasper. Feeling the steady beating of his heart, I reminisce on a time when that sound lulled me to sleep.

  I miss him.

  I miss him so much that trivial moments like this will be a memory I revisit often.

  Jasper lets go of my hand and slowly stands while I am still on my knees, peering up at him. The irony of me on my knees before him doesn't go unnoticed by either of us. He offers me his hand which I nervously accept, and I stand mere inches away from him.

  “You're different,” Jasper says, his head tipped to the side, examining me closely.

  I suddenly feel very self-conscious. “Oh? Well, these are new clothes,” I mumble nervously, tugging at my top.

  “No, I don't mean your appearance. I mean in here.” He places his fingertips to my temple. “And in here,” he adds, as he places his warm palm on my heart.

  He drops his hand from my temple, but leaves his hand on my chest, and I lower my eyes, fixated on the way his hands look on me. I know he told me to forget him, but I can’t, and no matter how hard I try, I will never forget the way my body responds to him.

  I know he can feel the frantic rhythm of my heart, but funnily enough, I don't care.

  “Look at me,” he whispers.

  Slowly peering up at him from under my lashes, I nervously toy with my bottom lip.

  “Even under all this expensive perfume, you still smell like lilacs. You still smell like you.”

  His comment stuns me, and I quickly reply, “That's because I am still me.”

  He pulls his hand back like he's been burnt. “I can't believe that.”

  I look at him puzzled, and feel cold without his touch.

  “I can't believe you're the same person, because that person lied to me and broke my heart.”

  His expression breaks my heart as his luscious lips droop into a small frown.

  “Jasper,” I stutter, trying to reach for him.

  “No Ava, don't.” He shakes his head, dodging my attempts to touch him.

  Dropping my hands to the sides, I whisper deflated, “I'm sorry Jasper.”

  His jaw is clenched and I force myself not to reach out again as he replies, “I know you are Ava, but it still hurts, and I’ll never forget the feeling of you ripping out my heart.”

  And he storms off, leaving me to my tears.

  *****

  “Is something wrong with your salmon?” Harper asks, pointing his knife to my untouched dinner.

  Looking down at my plate, I shake my head unconvincingly. “No, it's lovely.”

  Harper places his cutlery against the gold rim of his dinner plate, steepling his fingers.

  “What's the matter?”

  “Nothing,” I reply, absentmindedly drumming my fingers on the tabletop.

  I feel on edge, and should have never agreed to come to this fancy restaurant after my encounter with Jasper. Eating is the furthest thing from my mind, and I am doing an extremely poor job of hiding my uneasiness.

  As Harper gives my tapping fingers a pointed look, I quickly stop and gently place them onto my lap.

  “Sorry Harper, I'm just preoccupied.”

  “I can see that sweetheart. Are you thinking about the wedding?”

  “Yeah I am. I have to organize the catering for V as the company she was using pulled out. Can you believe that?”

  Harper shakes his head, a small smirk on his face. “No, I meant our wedding.”

  “Oh,” I reply, picking up my water glass and taking a sip.

  “You've been awfully quiet about the wedding since we told our parents about it.”

  “Have I?” I reply while poking my dinner with my fork.

  “I know mother can be a little overbearing, but she's just so excited about me getting married.”

  “No it's fine Harper,” I smile waving off his comment, and take a small bite of my salmon.

  I surprise myself when I don’t gag on it.

  “Are you sure?” Harper is so not buying my ‘everything is fine’ routine.

  “Yes, everything is happening so fast, I guess I'm just nervous. When I agreed to marry you, I thought you would give me a promise ring or something, and we would discuss actual marriage way down the track, like way, way down the track,” I confess.

  Harper smiles and I don’t fail to notice his smug look as he adjusts his silk tie. “Darling, a promise ring? Seriously we're not in the third grade. I've known you for five years; of course I want to get married straight away. I love you and want you to be my wife as soon as possible. I won't rush you, but you know mother, once the seed is planted. So, have you thought about having our wedding at my parents?”

  Honestly my wedding has been the furthest thought from my mind, but of course I can’t share that with Harper.

  “Your mom was thrilled about the idea, so yeah sure.” Giving my fiancée a half smile, I try my best to appear happy.

  Harper beams at me and surprises me by grasping my hand, placing a chaste kiss on my knuckles.

  “Thank you. This means the world to her.”

  This is a rare side to Harper, as he can be kind when he wants to be. Nowadays that kindness is infrequent, but all relationships lose that after being together for a while-right?

  “Have you shared the news with V?”

  Lowering my eyes, I begin to fiddle with my napkin, really wishing we weren’t having this conversation now. After the day I have just had, all I want to do is soak in a hot bath and switch off.

  “Why not? I thought you girls shared everything.”

  Obviously my plans to switch
off are to be put on hold.

  “I don't think it's fair to rain on her wedding parade,” I explain.

  Harper examines me closely while I try not to squirm, and the soft soothing music in the background is having the opposite effect on me, as I suddenly feel claustrophobic.

  Wriggling around in my chair uncomfortably, I scrub my left hand over my face in attempts to brush away my fatigue.

  “Where's your ring?”

  Looking down at my naked hand, I cringe.

  “Don't you like it?” Harper asks, a look of genuine concern on his face.

  “Of course I like it,” I reply, suddenly experiencing a serious case of the guilt’s.

  “Then why aren't you wearing it?”

  I attempt to answer, my mouth poised, ready to respond, when Harper jokes, “Have you got an old flame hanging around, and you don’t want to break his heart?”

  Letting out a half chuckle, half cough, I demand my blushing to keep away and not betray how close to the truth Harper really is.

  Chapter 12

  In the Wrong

  Harper is working once again, and I hate to admit I am secretly happy he won’t be around for the day. After our awkward conversation at dinner the other night, I have been subtly avoiding him.

  I decide to go visit my friends at The Bean Bag, my former place of employment, hoping to pass some time before dinner at V’s tonight.

  I haven't been back there since the day I put in my resignation, which was a sad day for me because I loved the place and the people.

  Parking three blocks away, I start my trek down my old stomping ground, and realize nothing has changed. Sadly, I can’t say the same thing about me.

  As I breathe in the familiar smells, I feel comforted that something in my life has remained constant- My love for Los Angeles.

  All the shops along this busy part of town are still thriving. Teenagers are buying their first prom dresses excitedly, soccer moms are getting their nails done while their kids are at school, and the elderly are getting their scripts filled, taking full advantage of pensioner discount day.

  Comparing my old home to my current one, I sigh when I realize how much I have missed Los Angeles.

  When entering The Bean Bag, it smells like home. The wall behind the register hasn’t changed, and is still scattered with dozens of bagged coffee beans for sale to the public.

  What has changed is the massive line of people, waiting impatiently to be served. When I worked here, my workmates and I ensured our customers got their orders in less than two minutes.

  Standing on my tippy toes in attempts to see what the holdup is, I see a young blonde girl behind the register, close to tears.

  The people waiting impatiently in line are mumbling under their breaths, claiming they have been waiting for fifteen minutes to be served.

  I peer at her once again, and she is pushing every button on the beeping register, looking frazzled. My heart goes out to her, as I know how hard it is dealing with customers who are craving their morning caffeine hit.

  Quickly excusing myself, I make my way towards the counter, and the girl looks at me with a desperate look on her face.

  “Did you want me to help you? I used to work here.”

  She nods quickly, her blonde ponytail bobbing up and down.

  “Okay. You know how to make coffee?” I ask her, praying she says yes.

  “Yes, I can do that. That's what they hired me for. Jodie the girl who normally takes orders has just gone home sick, and I'm supposed to man the register and make coffees until her fill-in arrives.”

  I nod, and without delay pull out an apron from under the counter. Jodie was an employee when I was working here, and was notorious for pulling sickies.

  “That's fine. I'm Ava by the way.”

  “Trudy,” she smiles, and makes her way over to the coffee machine.

  “Welcome to The Bean Bag. What can I get for you today?” I ask the businessman who is drumming his fingers on the counter.

  “I’ll have a tall macchiato with a dash of milk and three sugars please.”

  He pulls out his wallet, looking at me fearfully that I will ask him to repeat his order.

  Punching his order into the register, I ask with a smile, “Sure. One shot or two?”

  *****

  Trudy has turned out to be a fantastic barista. She has kept up with the numerous orders I have been taking, and she has done so with a smile.

  Finally, the morning rush has ended, and Trudy and I let out a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she says hugging me.

  I laugh. “It’s okay. No biggie.”

  She jumps onto the back counter, taking a seat, because there is no one wanting to be served.

  “Why did you leave? You are obviously really good at your job and seem to love it.”

  Contemplating her question, I answer as honestly as I can. “I left because I thought I was moving onto bigger and better things.”

  “And did you?” she asks, looking at me through the eyes of a naive eighteen year old.

  I shrug. “I'm undecided.”

  Trudy suddenly jumps off the bench and starts fiddling with her ponytail, straightening out her shirt, and pushing up ‘the girls’.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, half chuckling at her random behavior.

  Trudy looks over my shoulder and whispers, “A customer who all the girls have been crushing over has just walked in. Oh God, he is sooo hot.”

  I admit I am curious to know who has the female staff at The Bean Bag going gaga.

  “Oh my God, he is coming over,” she squeals, puckering her lips to spread out the lip gloss she just applied.

  I let out an amused laugh, but that laugh turns into a squeak when I hear the voice of the object of Trudy’s affection.

  “Hi Ava.”

  I close my eyes and hope to God it's not him. Trudy clears her throat and stomps on my foot when I remain frozen. I don’t care what she does because I am not turning around.

  “Are you going to take my order?” he asks.

  As I hear his deep throaty chuckle, I know it's him. And I know he is not going away, so I take a brave breath and turn around.

  Jasper White is looking highly amused, while I am mortified.

  “Hi Jasper,” I choke out.

  He looks totally hot in a white V neck, with his aviators hooked into the collar of his shirt, faded blue jeans, and a black baseball cap turned backwards.

  He crosses his arms over his broad chest, and I hear Trudy sigh at the heavenly sight before us.

  “What can I get for you?” I can't believe I am standing here taking his order.

  Jasper looks at me smirking, and I raise an annoyed eyebrow, as he is so enjoying me squirming right now.

  “You know what I like,” he answers, and I blush, not wanting to think about him and his likes.

  Writing down his usual, I slide it over to Trudy who is watching our exchange curiously.

  She gets onto making Jasper’s coffee, and I look over his shoulder, in hopes that someone is waiting to be served.

  Of course there isn't.

  I clear my throat uncomfortably. “So...”

  “So...” he repeats.

  Jasper’s eyes are all over me and I start blushing again. Damn me for wearing this tank top which reveals way too much blushing skin!

  “So, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you're not working here again.”

  I nod. “No, I was just helping out Trudy because Jodie called in sick again,” I explain.

  “Ah, some things never change.”

  “I couldn't agree more,” I reply while averting my eyes, as I am referring to a totally different situation.

  “Here's your coffee,” purrs Trudy, while I am thankful this painful situation is nearly over.

  Or so I thought.

  “Thanks.”

  Jasper accepts the coffee from her outstretched hand, and looks at her as if he suddenly just no
ticed her presence. He seems to like what he sees, as he takes her in from head to toe.

  Is he really checking her out? In front of me?

  Trudy flushes under his piercing gaze, while I stare uncomfortably and have to refrain from throwing Jasper’s coffee into his face.

  “So, what time do you get off work?” he says, turning on the charm.

  He is so trying to make me jealous, and it's totally working!

  Trudy batters her eyelashes at him. “In two hours.”

  Jasper braces the counter, leaning towards her. “Normally in a circumstance like this, I would ask you out for coffee, but seeing as you work in a coffee shop, that might be kinda lame.”

  Vomit is literally rising as I am listening to his insinuating tone.

  “I love coffee,” Trudy says, her voice raising an octave in excitement.

  “Well, isn't that funny, so do I,” he answers smugly while taking a sip of his coffee, his blue bedroom eyes focused on Trudy.

  That's it! I've had all I can stomach.

  As I am frantically untying my apron, I hear my phone ringing, so I reach under the counter, searching through my bag to find it. I look at the screen, and for once, the Gods are smiling down on me.

  “Hi Harper.”

  Jasper snaps his head my way.

  Two can play this game.

  “I'm good thanks, but tired after last night.”

  I let out a giggle. “Oh, it’s okay, I like waking up on your side of the bed.”

  I can see Jasper out of the corner of my eye, and he is totally seething.

  Little does he know, as per usual I was sleeping alone and woke up on Harper’s side of the bed because I tossed and turned, thinking about Jasper for the whole night.

  “Oh yeah, I am a little sore,” I reply to Harper’s question.

  He asked if I was sore after the massage he purchased for me at the hotel spa was too hard.

  “The pressure was fine. I like it hard.”

  Jasper drops his coffee as he overhears me, which spills all over the bench.