Timberline

by Skye McNeil

  The next train came to a screeching halt and she rubbed her lips together anxiously. If she stopped by her apartment, she would have to move the appointment back an hour.

  “I’ll take it as a no then.” The barista’s voice met her and she almost forgot he was still there.

  Catching his gaze, she saw his face was filled with regret and his soulful eyes made her shirt kerfuffle escape for the time being. “It’s fine. I just need to make this train.” She moved away but saw he kept her pace.

  “Me too,” he told her as they both boarded. “I insist on dry cleaning your shirt. My guy works miracles.”

  Jessie spotted an open seat. “It’s fine, really.” He didn’t follow her this time, much to her disappointment. From her seat, she watched him grab a handle as the train lurched to life. He couldn’t afford a dry cleaner good enough to get this out anyhow. Surely, baristas couldn’t afford designer clothes, much less the expense of dry cleaning them.

  Pulling out a wipe made for such occasions as this, she blotted the shirt. The pants weren’t as big of a deal. They would dry and weren’t $900 pants. The wipe didn’t do much to the stain. The silk was ruined, but she tried anyway.

  Giving up at her task, Jessie peeked over to where the barista stood, swaying with the train. He was a mere two feet away, but it seemed much farther. Looking him over, she noticed today he wore nicer clothes compared to his orange apron and faded blue jeans. Dark brown pants and a light blue shirt fit him like a snug hug. She noticed the way the color brought out a blue hue to his green eyes.

  The barista glanced up and smiled before slipping his ear buds in. Jessie lowered her eyes when he didn’t drop her gaze. By anyone’s standards, the man was attractive. His nose held a hint of a curve, which made her wonder if he was born with it or if he’d endured a broken nose at one point in his life.

  Flicking her eyes to his hands, she saw no ring but a small tattoo on the middle finger of his right hand instead. Curiosity got the better of her and she leaned to the edge of her seat. It was a tiny pen on the inside of his finger. The train jolted, sending her sprawling forward.

  To her relief, the man she was ogling caught her before she could face plant. “You aren’t having the best of luck today, are you?” he said in a gentle voice as he righted her.

  Jessie fumbled for words when he crouched down before her.

  “How about I stay here until your stop in case you feel the urge to tip over or spill anything else.”

  At initial glance, Jessie thought he was serious, but when she met his eyes, she saw the amusement there. “I’m fine.”

  He chuckled. “It seems that phrase is on repeat for you. Do you know how to say another one?”

  Jessie muted her curses when the barista took the handle smack dab above her seat. Where was her tongue today? Her usual witty comebacks seemed to have fled along with her voice. She offered a polite smile as a response.

  Taking out her phone, she sent an email to A.J. Whit, explaining she was running late. Glancing up for a moment, she noticed the train is full of people glued to their phones. The Perkatory barista was no exclusion. His thumbs flew over the keyboard and she couldn’t help but wonder who he was texting. To her amazement, her phone dinged with a response from the illustrious author sooner than expected. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jessie let her eyes wander.

  The train took a curve and the barista swayed toward her. The aromatic scent of brewed coffee clung to his clothes, as well as the familiar Giorgio Armani cologne. It wasn’t an expensive scent but more than what she guessed a barista could afford. Her mind whirled on the identity of the man who served a crappy cup of tea. It was clear he sported fashionable taste, but the tattoos on his hand and arms weren’t corporate New York City.

  The train slowed bit by bit, and she recognized her stop. Waiting until the train’s brakes squeaked to a stop before she stood, Jessie was surprised the barista was ahead of her as the group exited the train. An odd longing filled her gut as she followed the tall man from the train.

  He was tall enough for her to fit in his shadow. Not a commonality for her. Well, at least not one she paid attention to very often. For some reason, he compelled her curiosity. Living in New York City, she saw her fair share of tattooed hipsters, but this barista was different. His straight posture and towering charisma stifled her need to deflect his every word.

  A rampant idea popped into her mind, sending her reeling. It was stupid and nothing like her, but she was too far gone to have options anymore. Forcing her feet faster before she lost her nerve, Jessie caught up to the man who smelled like an afternoon of tantalizing sex.

  “Hey barista, hold up!” she shouted, her heels clicking on the concrete.

  He whipped around, searching for the voice. When his eyes landed on her, his mouth curved into a smile. “Did you want to spill another tepid beverage on me?”

  Jessie’s eyes widened as she noticed his shirt at last. Not only had the dismal cup of tea destroyed her shirt, but it also left a large wet spot on his as well. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  He waved her apology aside. “To quote this lady who keeps bumping into me, I’m fine.” He scrunched his nose in jest.

  When he started to walk away, Jessie blocked his path, uncertain what came over her. Curious at her motive, he pulled one ear bud from his ear. “Yes?”

  Struggling with courage, she winced and began. “I’m about to ask you something certifiably insane, so please don’t call the cops on me.” He nodded for her to proceed. Taking a long breath, she blurted, “Will you come to Colorado with me to my sister’s wedding tomorrow?” The barista cocked his head to the right. “As my boyfriend. The wedding is next week, but I leave tomorrow. My assistant thought it would a great idea if she RSVP’d for me. She said I would bring a guest. She is a crazy one. I should fire her.” She paused her lips, knowing she must sound deranged. This was the type of person she steered clear of on the subway. Crazy and maniacal nutballs asking random things. God, I’m an idiot.

  Instead of shoving her aside with a wary expression, he shrugged his shoulders. “Sure.”

  “But really, Bridget is—” she paused mid-sentence. “Wait, what?”

  “I’ll go to Colorado with you.”

  Shock registered on her face. “You will? You don’t even know me.”

  He chuckled. “The same can be said to you.” He held out his hand. “Asher Whitaker.”

  Jessie took his hand in her timid one. It was rough and firm, and oh so many naughty images filled her mind when she saw more tattoos peek through. “I’m Jessamine Davis, Jessie for short.” Then and there she wondered if he wanted something from her. Why else would he accept without argument?

  “It’s nice to meet you, Jessie,” he remarked with a dazzling smile which made her want to giggle like a teenager.

  Suddenly shy, she jotted down her phone number on the napkin in his hand. “Here’s my cell phone number. We should meet later and discuss everything.” She let her eyes roam over him. “I may need to help you get a few outfits for the wedding before we leave. I don’t think your street clothes will work.”

  “What? You don’t trust my clothing judgment, but you trust me to not murder you in your sleep?” Asher remarked with a smirk.

  “Um, no, not without reservations.” She shook her head and laughed at his pretend pout. “And you won’t be sleeping anywhere near me.” He feigned rejection but kept a grin on his face. Though he didn’t look like a corporate mogul, Jessie was determined to form the clay into a suitable beau.

  “Asher,” she said, tasting the name on her tongue. “What an odd name. Is it Canadian?” His eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t respond. “Can I change it for the week?”

  Plucking his other ear bud out of his ear, Asher shook his head and touched his toes to her pointed heels. Leaning down, he whispered, “Absolutely not.”

  The tone in his voice sent chills over her skin. “Oh, okay. Just wondered.”

  Stra
ightening to his full height, Asher resumed a smile. “Where do you want to meet tomorrow?”

  Jessie studied his frame. He would look incredible in any designer, but she was positive Armani was the best suited. “Armani on Fifth. Two o’clock.”

  His head jerked, but then he nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

  Taking a step backward, Jessie managed a grin. “Great.”

  “As for the rest of the trip, what should I pack?” he asked when she was ten feet away.

  “We’re staying in the mountains, so a little of everything. It gets warm during the day, but sometimes it’s rainy. Oh, and cold at night so bring a pair of jeans.” As soon as she finished, Jessie grimaced. Even to her ears, she sounded like an encyclopedia.

  “Great, I’ll see you later.” He waved and then took off in the opposite direction.

  Jessie stood cemented in her place until he disappeared from her view. “What the hell did I do? I just invited a complete stranger to my sister’s wedding.” Her palms began to sweat as the realization hit her. “Dear God, I hope he’s not a psychopath.”

  Chapter Two

  Rifling through her closet, Jessie huffed in frustration. “I have nothing to wear.” Her gray cat meowed from his perch at the window. “You’re right. I do have clothes. I don’t have any I want to take. They’ll get dirty.”

  The cat stared back at her, his tail flicking side to side. Talking to a cat was odd, but she didn’t care. Bleu got her through the loneliness of New York City. She didn’t need a man; she had Blue for companionship. It was all she needed. In hindsight, a kitten and new job at the same time wasn’t the best idea, but the fluff ball kept her company when she had no one.

  Her phone lit up with a new text message and she grabbed the buzzing device. Thanks to Asher’s advice, her screen was as good as new and the forty-dollar price tag was one she could live with. “Speaking of the man with a weird name,” she rambled when she saw the name on the message.

  After receiving a late email canceling the appointment from the potential client she was supposed to meet, Jessie had stalked back to her apartment. All the while, she thought of the millions of reasons why asking a guy she didn’t know to be her date was a horrible idea. She hadn’t made it through the front door before Asher texted her. Since then, the two hadn’t paused their messaging exchange. His suggestion they should get to know each other a little prior to taking their flight set her at ease. He was a decent human being, from the little she’d found out about him thus far. The generic questions about themselves were a smart idea so they wouldn’t be blindsided by her family.

  By the end of the night, Jessie discovered Asher was a horrifying barista, but that much she already knew. He had one brother and both were Army brats; his favorite color was red; he preferred steak over chicken; he had served in the military; and he was a fan of every New York sports team. Jessie sighed at the minimal information. They couldn’t be more shallow if they tried. She could push for more, but she wasn’t willing to subject herself to the same line of questions.

  Tossing clothes to the floor, her eyes landed on a dress in the back of the closet. “You’re perfect,” she breathed to the red, flowing Prada gown. “And you are red. How fortunate.”

  She slipped the dress from the hanger and nodded before discarding the tags. Her initial bonus from her NYC promotion had gone toward this dress. Since she had no reason to wear it yet, the lonely dress stayed hidden in her closet.

  “Until now.” It wasn’t appropriate for a mountain wedding, but then again, her attendance wasn’t appropriate, so it worked.

  Reviewing the lot of clothes on her bed, she determined she was done. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She scratched her head and groaned. As much as she wanted to get her hair touched up, time was not on her side. Her fabulous idea of lowlights would have to wait. For now, she would remain her natural self.

  “Well, Bleu, do you think mommy will get hacked to pieces by the hunky barista?”

  A rambunctious meow from Bleu was his response. “Great. You do know I’m the one who feeds you, right?” The cat purred and rubbed his head against her leg. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

  She was determined to make this plan work even if she had to watch Bobbi and Tommy make out yet again. Asher would be the perfect guy for the job. He was ten times more attractive than her ex. Not that she compared them. She recalled the way Asher’s shirt molded to his muscles and shivered. The attractiveness scale wasn’t in her ex’s favor.

  Rolling clothes into her luggage, she thought over the conversation she had earlier with Bridget. Her assistant was in utter shock she’d managed to wrangle a guy willing to agree to her shindig who didn’t look like a Mack truck hit him. Though she didn’t have a photo of Asher, Jessie managed to give an accurate verbal description. She was pretty sure Bridget started drooling right around the time she mentioned his tattoos and dimple.

  Bleu jumped into her bag and curled up on her sweatshirt. You could take a girl out of Colorado, but you couldn’t take her love of the worst colored football team jersey in the league from her. Not bothering to move her cat just yet, she tucked clothes in around the ball of gray fur.

  Bridget had scolded her for asking a stranger. Jessie smirked when she recalled the use of the word insane in their conversation earlier. Maybe she was a little bit. She couldn’t describe why she asked Asher to come with her. All she knew was he was kind, attractive, and seemed safe. Letting out a nervous laugh, she rifled through her jewelry, picking earrings to take along.

  Even then, she couldn’t believe she’d offered to find him a job at her place of employment during their text message exchange. “Because if this ends like a horror flick, it would be great to have him deliver my mail,” she whined to the bag almost full of clothes. She didn’t need them all. Surviving off one pair of jeans and five shirts would suffice any other time, but she was taking a date. A super attractive date who made her feel less New York chic and more Colorado grungy. Her brow wrinkled at the notion. She didn’t know the guy. “I’m excited to get back to the mountains. It’s not about him.”

  Her phone buzzed from the bedside table and she sighed. Constant texting with a guy wasn’t foreign to her, but the giddy way she anticipated his replies was new. “Ground rules, Jess,” she prompted out loud. The next week needed a set of ground rules if they were to cohabitate with her relatives.

  Surveying the room, she spotted a notepad. Grabbing a pen, she started jotting down the necessary boundaries she would discuss with Asher on the trip to the Davis cabin on Mount Princeton. She wouldn’t be caught unprepared this time.

  After a nod at the list in her hands, she returned to her luggage. Bleu managed to wriggle beneath the clothes in her bag and purred with satisfaction from his hiding spot. Rolling her eyes, Jessie chuckled when the cat batted at her with his paw when she tried to remove him. When she got him free of the bag, his fur lingered on the prematurely packed clothes. “Looks like I’m not going to bed anytime soon.”

  Her phone chirped from beside her. With a guy like Asher blowing up her phone, she didn’t mind if she didn’t sleep at all tonight.

  »»•««

  Asher flipped on the satellite TV and sank into the leather couch. In all his thirty-three years, not once had a woman asked him to be her date to a wedding halfway across the country. Certainly not one who didn’t know him from a hobo. He changed the channel to ESPN and scratched his head.

  “Jessamine Davis.” Her name sounded as delicious as she looked, for a neurotic woman, that is. Asher wasn’t sure what motivated him to accept her odd proposition, but he was glad he did. For the time being.

  He could use a little time out of the city to reconnect with nature. This was a business deal, not a romantic getaway. Yet he wouldn’t mind sneaking away with the woman who not only hated his barista skills, but one who was in dire need of letting her hair down a little. Her chestnut locks looked like prisoners in the tight bun at the back of her head. No, he wou
ld insist she wear her hair down during their mountainside vacation.

  His phone illuminated with a new message from the woman consuming his thoughts. If she was desperate enough to ask a complete stranger to her sister’s wedding, there had to be a damn good reason.

  For the last three hours, Asher learned little tidbits about Jessie. Nothing he couldn’t surmise after spending a day in her company, but if that was all she wanted to share, fine. The rest of her secrets would tumble from her lips in the next week. At best, he could get a new story idea to help him out of his slump. At worst, he could get stranded on a mountaintop with a new story and no way to write it down.

  At the next notification from his phone, Asher expected another message from Jessie. When he looked down, he saw it was from his publicist. He didn’t want to deal with Mike, but if he ignored him, the man would follow him to Colorado.

  Dialing the number he had known from heart for the last three years, he waited for Mike to answer. He didn’t have to wait long.

  “Asher, my main man. How’s it going? Did you meet with the—” Mike said, but was cut off.

  “I’m going to Colorado,” Asher told him.

  “Uh, okay, sure. Sounds like fun. I’ll set up a few—”

  “Alone, Mikey,” he insisted. “It’s a favor for a friend, and I don’t want to be bothered with work.”

  Mike’s nervous chuckle skidded across the line. “Sure. Whatever you say.” Before Asher could thank him, the publicist added, “How about this? I will let everyone know you’re taking a top-secret vacation. It should keep you trending.”

  Despite not wanting to be in the limelight at the moment, Mike’s idea wasn’t far-fetched. “I guess it will work, thanks, Mike. I doubt I’ll have much cell reception in the mountains, so don’t expect me to get back to you right away. I’ll touch base when I’m in a town.”