Say You're Mine: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Southport Love Stories Book 4)

by Sarah J. Brooks

  Whitney gave me a look that let me know I wasn’t being the help she needed me to be, so I begrudgingly put it back.

  We kept browsing, putting things in a ‘maybe’ pile to be decided on at the end.

  The store was pretty busy. A woman was shopping nearby, and I frequently had to move out the way to avoid smacking her with the shirts Whitney loaded me up with.

  “Sorry,” I told the stranger when I accidentally smacked her with a hanger.

  The woman laughed. “Looks like you girls are on a mission. I’ll try to stay out of the way.”

  “So, I hear things were a bit tense with you and Mr. Robert Jenkins at Meg’s this past weekend.” Whitney handed me two more shirts to put on the pile.

  I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Did Meg tell you that? Because she wasn’t even there. She was upstairs with Tyler.” I felt myself becoming instantly defensive. I didn’t like people talking about my personal life behind my back. Not even my best friends.

  “Actually, Adam mentioned it. You know what gossip he can be,” Whitney said. “He was very confused by it considering he has no idea what was going on with the two of you.”

  “Dear lord, Whit, for the hundredth time—”

  “Nothing was going on, blah, blah, blah. If you think any of us believe that for a second, you’re deluding yourself,” Whitney interrupted.

  I moved out of the nice lady’s way again. I glanced her way, not a big fan of talking about personal stuff in public, but she seemed oblivious.

  “Okay, so I liked him. A lot. And we were kinda, sorta seeing each other,” I admitted.

  “Finally!” Whitney raised her hands to the sky. “Acknowledgement!”

  I dropped the clothes on the growing pile and glowered at her. “Yes fine. I thought we might be starting to date, but then he had to go and be all aloof and shady and I had had enough evasive bullshit with Mac. I’m not ready to sign up for more.”

  “Robert is not Mac, Skylar. I don’t think you’re being fair to him. He’s a really good guy,” Whitney scolded. “Just because the guy didn’t give you his life story right away doesn’t mean you should ice him out. I don’t think that’s too cool of you.”

  Her censure stung. “It wasn’t like that, Whitney. It’s just, I started really opening up to him because he seemed into me. And when I would ask him questions, he never answered them. I just don’t know if I have it in me to let someone in my life who could hurt me. I’ve been down that road and it’s not fun.”

  Whitney put her arm around my shoulders. “He likes you, Sky. Everyone can see the way he looks at you. If you never give someone a chance, how will you ever know if it’s right?”

  “I’m sorry to be nosy but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

  Whitney and I looked up in surprise at the older woman who had been shopping next to us. “Excuse me?” I asked, taken aback.

  The woman was beautiful in that timeless way where her age could be anywhere between forty and sixty. She had long blonde hair without a streak of grey—she had to dye it— and a body that made me envious. So why was this gorgeous stranger jumping into our conversation?

  “I’m sorry, I probably should mind my own business, but ladies need to stick together and when I hear a pretty young thing like yourself talking about an obvious asshole, we older gals need to step in.” She gave me a sympathetic smile.

  “She never said he was an asshole,” Whitney argued, frowning.

  “No, of course not. You seem like such a nice woman,” she went on, looking at me. “It’s just that I heard you talking about a man and whether you should give things a go. In my experience, trust your instincts, sweety. It’s when we don’t that we get into trouble.”

  “But what if my instincts are wrong?” I found myself asking her. I didn’t know why I found myself opening up to this stranger. But something was inviting about her face that made me want to sit down and drink coffee with her and tell her all my problems.

  The woman put a hand on my arm. I noticed offhandedly the number of rings she wore. Her hand was literally weighed down with diamonds. And by the way she dressed she clearly had money.

  “Women are too often made to feel like we should ignore what our gut tells us. We push aside our best interests when a handsome face comes along. We have to learn to be smarter than that. Forget about this guy. If you think he could hurt you, then don’t risk it. No man is worth it.”

  I found myself nodding as Whitney shook her head.

  “That sounds entirely too jaded to me,” Whitney said. “The man we’re talking about is a good guy—”

  “So many of them start that way,” the lady interrupted, giving me a knowing look. “I get the feeling you know that better than most.”

  “You’re right,” I said with enthusiasm. I held out my hand for her to shake. “I’m Skylar.”

  The beautiful older woman shook my hand. “You can call me Tiff. I just moved to the area and decided to do a little shopping. I didn’t plan to play the part of the nosy Karen when I left the house today. I’m sorry if I was being rude,” she apologized.

  “No, don’t apologize. I actually appreciate the advice,” I told her sincerely. Whitney had wandered off. “So, you just moved to Southport?”

  Tiff nodded. The name really didn’t suit her. She was too classy for a name like that. “I’m in the process of buying a house in town, but it’s taking longer than I thought. I’m staying in the bed and breakfast near the park.”

  “Oh, that’s a nice place. I hope you’re enjoying it. My great aunt used to live there before it was sold and became a B&B.”

  “This is a lovely town. A far cry from the city. But a change of pace is exactly what I’m looking for.” Tiff picked up a blouse, a pink gauzy number with a low neckline, and held it against her front. I could tell it would look amazing on her.

  “Do you know anyone in Southport? What made you come here?” I asked. I realized I was following this random woman around the store. I wasn’t usually the kind of person to strike a conversation with a complete stranger, but Tiff had a ‘talk to me’ face and after spending so much time alone I was starving for any interaction.

  “Actually, I came here for someone. A man I lost touch with. He was special to me. I’m hoping to reconnect now that we’re living in the same town,” Tiff said with a soft smile on her face.

  “That’s wonderful. I hope he’s someone worth the time,” I replied.

  Tiff draped the blouse over her arm and turned to me. “Oh, he is. He’s more than worth it. Remember I said to trust your instincts. I knew from the minute I met this man I couldn’t let him get away. I stupidly did, now I’m here to correct my mistake.” Her face clouded for a moment before it cleared again. “I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes I’m here.”

  I laughed. “It’ll be a surprise then?”

  Tiff widened her eyes for effect. “The biggest.” Then she laughed with me.

  “What’s his name? Maybe I know him. Southport isn’t that big,” I asked. Whitney was gesturing to me from the other side of the store. She held up a shirt and I nodded, giving her a thumbs up.

  Tiff went back to combing through dresses. “I think it’s best I don’t say,” she said rather mysteriously.

  “Oh, come on, I thought we were old friends by now,” I chuckled.

  Tiff inclined her head toward where Whitney was trying to get my attention again. “It seems you’re needed.”

  I sighed. “I guess so. It’s back to the wilds of men’s attire for me.”

  Tiffany laughed. “You’re a funny woman, Skylar. I’m glad I met you.”

  I felt warm at her compliment. “Thanks, likewise.”

  “I hope to see you around,” Tiff said, sounding sincere. “And forget about that guy. You don’t need him anyway.”

  I pumped my fist. “That’s right. Girl power, am I right?”

  “Sky!” Whitney called out, getting irritated.

  “Bye, Tiff. Good luck with
your guy,” I told her before hurrying back to my friend.

  Whitney was more than annoyed when I rejoined her. “Thanks for ditching me. Who even was that woman?” she grumbled, glaring at me.

  I turned back to see Tiff was leaving the store. “Just some nice lady who has just moved to town. She was pretty cool.”

  “Pretty weird is more like it,” Whitney retorted. “What kind of person jumps into a stranger’s conversation like that? I thought she was a bit rude.”

  “I think she was simply overcome by female solidarity is all.” I frowned, thinking back to the conversation I just had. It was slightly odd. But I shook it off. “Sometimes it’s nice hearing an outsider’s perspective on things.”

  “Even though she doesn’t know anything about you or Robert or how the two of you are together. But sure, take the word of a rando in a clothing store over your friend who knows the both of you.” Whitney was getting testy. “And I still don’t know which shirt to get Kyle.”

  “Sorry, Whit. Okay, my attention is firmly focused on finding the best damn shirt Web has ever seen,” I assured her.

  Whitney harrumphed but seemed appeased.

  Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about what Tiff said. To trust my instincts. Too bad I couldn’t be sure what my instincts were trying to tell me.

  **

  I spent most of the day with Whitney and as such, I hadn’t gotten any actual work done for the three projects I had to complete. There was the other downside when you were the boss. Procrastination was all too appealing.

  When I finally got back to my house a little after five, six long hours later, I was shocked to find a beat-up Camry parked in my driveway and someone on my porch, bent over by my door.

  “Who’s that?” Whitney asked as she pulled into my driveway.

  “I have no idea.” The sun was starting to set so I couldn’t make out who it was. “Let me go see what’s going on.”

  “I’m going to wait. I’m not leaving you out here in the middle of nowhere with some guy on your porch. That’s like the beginning of every crime documentary I’ve ever seen.” Whitney picked up her phone. “Just give me the signal if you need me to call 9-1-1.”

  I started to get out of the car when the person turned around and my heart started pounding instantly.

  “Is that Robert?” Whitney peered through her windshield.

  “That’s exactly who it is,” I said through clenched teeth. I closed the door and leaned down to talk to her through the partially open window. “Why don’t you come in for a bit—”

  “Sorry, Sky, I’ve gotta pick up Katie,” Whitney announced, putting the car into reverse.

  “What happened to waiting and calling 9-1-1 if I needed to?” I yelled as she started pulling away.

  She held her arm out of the window and waved as she booked it down the driveway.

  I sighed and mentally prepared myself as I turned and headed toward the house. I could hear Edgar going nuts inside. Robert watched me; his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He had obviously just come from work. He was wearing tailored grey pants and a button-down green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His top button was undone and the tie loose around his neck. His glasses had slipped down his nose and his hair had the messy quality of someone who had spent many hours combing his hands through it.

  He looked amazing. Bastard.

  “You want to back away from the door, please? Poor Edgar is going to claw his way through the wood.” My words were clipped with annoyance as I pulled my keys out to unlock the door. “What are you doing here?”

  Robert picked up a large item wrapped in shipping paper and moved to the side. “Sorry, I should have called, but I figured I’d just swing by after work.”

  I gave him a bland look. “Swing by? It’s a little out of the way for you to ‘swing by.’” I put my key into the door and turned the lock.

  As soon as I opened the door, Edgar flew out a ball of pent-up energy and fur. And he went straight for Robert, who had gone down on his haunches in preparation. He held out his hand and let Edgar sniff his fingers. Edgar was wary—it had been a while since Robert had been to the house—but after thirty seconds, he seemed to remember him and gave his hand a lick before turning his attention to me. Obviously, my big, ferocious dog didn’t view Robert as a threat.

  “What’s that?” I asked, indicating the large package he was holding. I walked into the house and turned on the lights. I left the door open but didn’t invite him in.

  Robert stood uncertainly in the doorway. “Um, is it okay if I come inside?”

  “Why not, I’ve been shopping all day, it can’t get any worse.” I kicked off my shoes and hung up my coat. All I could think was getting to the kitchen. If I was going to have to talk to Robert—alone at that—I needed a beer. “So, are you going to tell me what it is, or is this a guessing game?”

  “Should I come back another time?” Robert suggested, taking off his shoes and lining them up next to mine. I hated how I like the way that looked.

  Trust your instincts, Sky. No man is worth it.

  “Why? So you can bug me later? No thank you. Might as well get it over with now.” I was being purposefully mean. I knew my words had their intended effect. A flash of hurt crossed Robert’s face before it was smoothed away.

  And I felt bad about it.

  Damn it.

  “Okay well, I guess let me just give this to you then and I’ll get out of your hair.” Robert lifted up the package and held it out. I went to take it from him before he stopped me. “Be careful. It’s heavy. And it’s fragile. Maybe I can carry it into the kitchen for you?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say something snarky. To give him shit for implying I wasn’t strong enough or capable enough.

  But I didn’t. Because I knew Robert didn’t think any of those things. I could be mad at him. I could be upset by his perceived rejection. But I couldn’t pretend he was some sexist pig who felt he had to take care of the ‘little lady.’ That wasn’t Robert’s style.

  “Sure,” was all I said, waving him down the hallway. “You know the way.”

  Robert walked past me to the kitchen. Edgar barreled past him and he had to sidestep my beast of a pet, so he didn’t drop whatever it was he was holding.

  I followed him, forcing myself to keep my eyes on his shoulders and not his very well sculpted backside which his trousers hugged nicely.

  I will not look at his butt.

  I will not look at his butt.

  I turned on the kitchen lights as Robert carefully laid the package on the table. “Okay, well, here you go. I hope you like it.” He hesitated awkwardly then gave me a weird half wave, not meeting my eyes. “See you later.” Robert had the look of a puppy who had just been kicked. It made me feel guilty. And irritated for being made to feel guilty.

  “Hang on a second,” I sighed before he could leave. “At least hang out while I open this up. You went to all the effort of driving it out here.”

  “Only if you’re sure.”

  I sighed again, this time louder and with more exasperation. “Whatever, just hand me the scissors in that drawer behind you.”

  Robert did as directed, handing me the scissors. I approached the table and he moved back a few steps, giving me personal space. Always the gentleman. I sliced open the packaging. Whatever was inside required multiple layers of padding. I pulled away the bubble wrap to reveal a large stained glass window.

  I gasped when I saw it.

  “Oh my god,” I breathed, staring down at the intricate design of vibrant colors. “I—Oh my—I can’t—” I stammered, not able to get a fully constructed sentence out of my mouth.

  I carefully picked it up so that it was upright. It was the size of a normal window but was encased in lacquered wood. It contained every color of the rainbow. It wasn’t a specific picture but a mosaic in a pattern of reds, blues, greens, and golds. It would be beautiful with the sun behind it.

  “I thought it would look
amazing in here,” Robert said, indicating the glass conservatory behind us. “You could hang it there.” He pointed to a window the same size as the stained glass. “When the sun comes up in the morning it will splash those colors all over the walls. You said this room was the most beautiful space you had ever had. I wanted it to be even more beautiful. For you.” He spoke in a rush, not quite looking at me. His cheeks were tinged pink, and I could tell he wasn’t exactly comfortable saying all that.

  My chest squeezed painfully.

  “It’s perfect,” I said softly, my throat tight.

  Damn him.

  Why can’t he just let me be angry with him?

  “Is it okay if I hang it up?” he asked tentatively.

  “Please,” I answered. He edged closer and gently took the stained glass window from my hands, his fingers brushing mine. Our eyes met and held on for a fraction too long.

  Trust your instincts.

  Well, my instincts were currently wanting me to abandon my silly pride and messed up fear and kiss him senseless.

  Instincts were useless.

  I watched as Robert hung the window in the best position to catch the morning sun. It fit perfectly.

  “I secretly measured the window a few months ago,” he admitted as if reading my mind. “I ordered it from an artist in Philly. He has a four-month backlog, so it only arrived today.”

  “It’s lovely,” I said. “It really is. And not something I would have ever thought to buy for myself.”

  Robert’s slow smile almost melted my cold, cold heart. “That’s why I wanted to get it for you. You were so happy with your house. And with the new sunroom. You spoke of how you loved to get up in the morning and have your coffee while the sun came up. And I imagined you sitting in this room with this colorful light all around you…” his words drifted off and he looked embarrassed. “I just wanted to get you something nice. Something from me to you that you could look at and know that I was...I don’t know...thinking of you I suppose.” For a successful attorney, he sure was tripping over his words.

  And despite the warm fuzzies I felt at his admission, it was overshadowed by my growing anger.