Jo smiled. “Oh, lord, don't you dare look at us! We've had more ups and downs in our lives than a roller coaster!”
“Yes,” Kaylee agreed, and her brow arched high as she continued. “But even you have to admit, for all the gut-wrenching twists and breathtaking turns your relationship with Michael has taken, it has been one hell of a ride. Now, tell me, am I right?”
Chapter 18
Kaylee slid the cat's adoption papers into a folder and swept up both the packet and her purse before turning to Marc to explain why she needed to leave the shelter early today. “They're letter boxes—you know, where people used to keep their invitations and calling cards and such? Anyway, he buys them and restores them, but other than making them part of the visual aspect of his home décor, he says he hasn't any real use for them.”
“So why doesn't he re-sell them? You said he restores them to their former glory, right? I thought those things were worth a lot of money.”
Slipping her arms into her coat sleeves, Kaylee nodded. “Yes, but he doesn't want to sell them, Marc. He loves them. During the restoration process, he puts a part of himself into them, making each one even more special and unique than before.”
“Oh, damn, girl you've got it bad. Puts a part of himself in? Special? Unique? It's just a matter of cleaning up the old and refurbishing it with a couple pieces of new, Kaylee. Jeez, you'd think Parker's some kind of old wood hero, to hear you tell it.”
She glared at him. “Shut up, Marc. And you know what I meant. He just doesn't want to sell them. But neither does he want to keep them on display if he can't find a use for them, so—I'm going to help him with that.”
Marc snickered. “Let me guess. You're going to the party shop to buy a thousand invitations? Gonna hand-address and special seal each one with a lipstick kiss before you pop them in his box?”
“No, you idiot. Well, not exactly, but something like that. I'll show you when I get one of them done, but there's Min,” she said, having caught a glimpse of her cousin's yellow VW out the corner of her eye, “so I gotta go. Here are the Harvey's papers. Mrs. Harvey is supposed to be here in fifteen minutes. Thanks for taking care of it for me, hey?”
“Yeah, yeah, go on. Get out of here. Go buy your man some stationery,” Marc said, waving her out the door. But it wasn't Mindy who caught her arm as soon as she stepped outside.
“Hey, whoa! I knew you'd come out of there eventually,” Daniel said, steadying her after his unexpected presence caused her to lose her balance and then windmill her arms, flailing about to regain sure footing.
“Daniel, oh my—you almost made me bite the pavement!” One hand went to her chest while the other pushed down her coat. “Don't ever do that to me again!”
He had the decency to look contrite. Stuffing his hands into the back pocket of his jeans, he started walking with her toward the parking lot. “I'm sorry, but I didn't want you to leave before we had a chance to talk. Last time, you were—”
“On my way out,” she finished for him. “And I'm kind of busy today, too. I have some errands to run. Shopping to do.”
“That's fine. I can drive you,” he offered.
“Can't, but thanks for the offer. Mindy's waiting for me.” She lifted her hand and waved to her cousin, hoping Min would take it for the distress signal she almost felt it was, but Min only lowered her window enough to put a hand out and wave back.
Kaylee started toward the bright yellow car, but Daniel's hand caught her by the elbow, halting her. Keeping her expression carefully blank, she turned to stare at him. “Can't this wait, Daniel? I really don't think there is anything left for us to discuss. We were engaged, you met someone you loved more, and you left. End of story.”
“Really, Kaylee? Can you honestly stand there and tell me that's all there was? You didn't miss me? Didn't think of me? That's not the Kaylee I know talking. Come on, darlin', this is me, Daniel, remember? And I—” He lifted a hand to her cheek, curving his palm around her jaw and it was all Kaylee could do to hold back her shudder. “I never stopped thinking about you, Kaylee. About the beautiful way you used to smile when I came up the graveled walk to your parent's house, and how you used to run out and meet me with a kiss.”
He smiled at her, the same kind of smile he used to give her when she would run out to meet him, but Kaylee felt no regrets—only a fleeting sort of sadness—for him. When he'd left her, he had destroyed any warmth she might have felt for him and it wasn't coming back.
“I missed that,” he continued. “I missed it, Kaylee, the same as I missed a thousand other things, beautiful, wonderful things about you. But mostly, every time I thought of you, I couldn't erase the memory of the haunted look of betrayal in your eyes the day I said goodbye.”
Kaylee didn't look away from him but neither did she acknowledge his words. His gaze faltered, dropped away, and she thought for a minute he might give up and walk away, but then his eyes came swinging back to hers.
“I hurt you, Kaylee. I hurt you in a way that no woman deserves, and no matter how I tried, I could never quite get past that.”
Oh, damn. Why had her parents ingrained good manners into her during her upbringing? Now she was going to have to say something. It was the least she could do. This was the first humanly decent thing he'd said to her since the day before he'd walked out of her life. “So you came back to apologize? Fine. Consider it said. You can go back now, to wherever you were staying before. We went our separate ways a long time ago, Daniel. We each have separate lives. You go back to yours and I'll get on with mine.”
“It's that guy, isn't it? The rich dude from Forbes?” He accused, a mulish, spurned look on his face. It smacked with a hint of assumed unfairness, and Kaylee almost laughed, so she bit her tongue.
“Jo told me you'd married the guy, but I didn't believe her. If you were married, you wouldn't have been going out for the weekend.”
And I wouldn't be standing here talking to you, Kaylee thought and then cocked her head to the side, considering. “But Jo and Michael go out all the time, and they're married. Or is it that you never planned to continue with the special evenings after you married that has you thinking no one else does?”
The look he gave her was imploring. “You're putting words in my mouth that I'm not saying, Kaylee. You never used to do that when we were engaged.”
“Things change, Daniel.”
“Yes, but they don't have to change in a bad way. That's why I came back, why I'm here today. Just—please. We need to talk, Kaylee. Privately, without you being in a rush to hurry off somewhere and without people trying to eavesdrop on our conversations,” he said, motioning with his head over her shoulder where Kaylee could see Marc standing with one foot in the door of the entrance to the animal shelter, holding it open while glaring at Daniel over the top of her head.
Biting back a growl of frustration, Kaylee glanced toward Mindy, then over her shoulder at Marc, desperately hoping for rescue from this conversation—one she certainly did not want to be having, especially not today—but finding none, she turned her gaze back to Daniel.
He hadn't really changed much in the past four years, she noticed. At least not physically. Sure there were a few new lines on his forehead and a few near his eyes, but … there was something different in his eyes. Maybe he was telling the truth? Maybe he sincerely did regret how he'd left things with her, she rationalized, trying without success to justify an agreement to meet with him to talk. It wasn't like she owed him anything, that was for sure, but at the same time, she realized it wouldn't kill her to sit down for a minute or two and listen to what he had to say—for closure, if nothing else.
Ignoring the little flutter of panic she felt in her gut when she thought about what Jordan's reaction would be when he discovered what she was about to agree to do, she took a deep breath and said, “Alright, fine. We'll talk. But it'll have to be tomorrow and I can only promise a half an hour. We'll do coffee. At Sam—uh, Huntingdon's. Three thirty okay?”
Daniel smiled. “It's perfect. Thanks, Kaylee. I'll be waiting.”
Unfortunately, Kaylee mumbled to herself as she walked away, feeling his eyes boring into her back the entire time.
She wound up spending every minute of her shopping trip distracted, unsuccessfully trying to think of some way that didn't involve either Jordan, her sister, or her friends, to get out of meeting him there.
“No, no peeking! No peeking!” Kaylee squealed later that evening, smacking at Jordan's hands which were wont to wander as she led him from the living room while Sarge barked and ran excitedly back and forth to and from his kitchen, where the surprise she had prepared for Jordan waited on the hardwood table. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”
Three rows of six boxes had been lined up, awaiting his inspection. She could hardly stand still while he opened the first one and said, “Ah, there are my keys.”
“Yes! You didn't really lose them. I hope you're not mad, but I asked Sam to lift them for me—for this. But he knew I was going to give them back to you. Anyway, here's the garage door opener, and a mini-flashlight...”
He waited patiently while she went through each item she'd placed in the box, but his thoughts were on being stranded at Sam's all afternoon. Now he knew why. Kaylee had decided to surprise him and she needed the keys to his house to do it.
“This is now your 'going out of the house' box. You can put it there,” she said, pointing toward the back entrance, “on that table by the door and you'll never have to wonder or remember where your things are because they each now have a definite place to be!”
Jordan stared at her, still feeling a bit quizzical, while her gaze switched back and forth between him and the letter boxes, a happy smile wreathing her lips the entire time. She was practically thrumming with a kind of child-like excitement and her particular brand of peppy zeal was catching. Jordan felt his own mood lighten, and he stepped forward. Eager to play whatever game she'd set out for them to play, he reached toward the second box in the first row. “And this one?”
His simple question set her off on an animated chorus of explanations as she carefully defined the purpose—purposes she personally had created, for each of the antique letter boxes in his meticulously chosen collection.
“...and this one,” she said, pointing at the one Stacy had given him during her brief visit a few days ago as a sort of apology for her past behavior, “is for all the little things you're getting rid of, things you no longer want but haven't yet found the proper place or time to dispose of.”
There was a little flash of something very akin to jealousy in her eyes when she looked at that box. Remembering what she'd said at her house the night of Stacy's unexpected visit about having to care an awful lot about him to be jealous, he grinned.
“We can 'get rid of' that particular box if you want, Kaylee,” he offered, and he meant it. If Stacy's gift made her uncomfortable he didn't want it there. But she was already shaking her head no.
“Not a chance and don't you dare. There is a definite time and place for endings, Jordan, and now, this box represents the place for yours. I thought it was perfect.”
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Jordan said, but he studied her intently, wondering what had motivated her to find a use for the letter boxes. “Was there a reason behind your sudden organizational spree? Other than helping me sort my haphazard and misguided life?”
A soft blush colored her cheeks and she looked away, her shoulders rising in a quick shrug. Was she embarrassed? She was, he decided, but he didn't understand why. “You love these boxes, Jordan. I can hear how much every time you mention one of them. But you said they were useless, taking up space, and you were going to get rid of them. I couldn't let you do that.”
He felt the significance of what she had said in a place slightly north of his gut. Now he understood her almost shy hesitation a moment ago, the reason for her blushes and embarrassment. Her gift was revealing, personal, and she knew it. Doing what she'd done showed him, without a doubt, that she was the type of person who paid attention. Real attention. The kind that allowed her to see things one didn't even realize they were showing; to hear things he hadn't realized he'd said.
Pulling her close, he dropped a kiss on her forehead—she'd rested it against his chest in an attempt to avoid looking into his eyes, he guessed, but he wouldn't let her hide. Thumbing her chin upward, he said, “Thank you, Kaylee. And I mean that in a much deeper, far more sincere tone than it sounds. You're right—I do love them, even if I don't understand why. It's like, through the process of restoration, each one of them became a part of me somehow. But,” he asked, pulling her into his arms again for a series of quick and yet ever-lingering kisses, “where are the chests for new beginnings? For the very rare and precious things that are starting right here and right now? The ones that will last an entire lifetime? An eternity?”
She was going to cry, he realized, when her eyelids fluttered quickly down to hide the swell of tears pooling in her eyes. But less than a heartbeat later, Jordan found that even he felt a suspicious sting beneath his eyelids when, eyes suddenly misty and soft, Kaylee pointed in the direction of his heart before patting her hand against her own and said, “Right in here.”
Chapter 19
I'll pick you up at the shelter on my way in, the the text said. I. Have. Surprise.
Kaylee switched off the engine and reached over to pick up her purse from the passenger seat but she didn't get out of the vehicle. She couldn't. Not yet. Jordan had a surprise for her? Last night he'd mentioned picking her up for lunch on his way back from Center, but he hadn't said anything about a surprise. Of course that may have been because she'd told him she couldn't do lunch because of her promise to meet Daniel at Huntingdon's, but … darn it, what was the surprise? Swiping her thumb across the screen of her cell, she texted back: What is it?
She knew Daniel was waiting for her inside the coffee shop, and she was already ten minutes late, but she couldn't seem to make herself not wait for Jordan's answer. When it came, it was exactly what she expected it to be: Not telling. You'll have to wait and see.
“Grrrr!” she grumbled at his reply, but she was smiling. Jordan had a surprise for her! Curious as a child at Christmas about what he might have picked up for her, she pushed open the door of her black SUV and stepped out. Slipping the strap of her purse over her head, she closed the door and locked it, then hit the touch screen on her phone again and typed: I can hardly wait, but I suppose I must! Can I have a hint?
His 'hint' was cryptic: It's … different.
Different?
She waited for more, but no other words appeared on her screen so she tucked the phone into her back pocket and started for the coffee shop with an extra bit of spring in her step, her mood now in total contrast to the dread she had been feeling earlier about this meeting with Daniel. She managed a total of three steps before she thought about Jordan's text again and felt a grin tug at her lips. For some reason, she suddenly wanted to bounce into the store on her tiptoes, hopping like a kangaroo with the phrase Jordan has a surprise! sing-songing repeatedly from her lips, but she managed to temper her excitement and childlike glee—somehow.
Pushing open the door in the most adult-like manner she could muster at the moment, Kaylee bit down on her smile and waved to Sam, but it sprang right back into place when she turned around to scan the shop for Daniel. He was sitting in a booth near the window facing the parking lot, so he had to have seen her come in, but he hadn't made a move to greet her other than to tip his head back in acknowledgment when their gazes met.
With an internal groan, she made her way over to the booth. “Sorry I'm late. One of the other volunteers at the shelter had an appointment he couldn't miss and I couldn't get away until about ten minutes ago.”
Daniel stood up right when she was about to sit down, which put their bodies in far too close a proximity for her comfort. She stepped back, but he slid his arm around her waist to steady her, pulling her closer just like he wo
uld have done four years ago...before he'd left her for another woman and almost ruined her life. It felt wrong.
All the happy excitement she'd felt only moments before fizzled away, leaving behind an unsettling kind of queasy feeling deep down in her stomach. Her smile disappeared and was immediately replaced with a scowling frown of disapproval.
Pushing out of his reach, Kaylee slid hurriedly into the seat opposite him, fighting back the urge to wipe away the disturbing effects of his touch. “Alright, Daniel. I'm here. There is no one looking over our shoulder, no one listening in to whatever it is you want to talk to me about. What was so important you needed to meet me here alone to say it?”
“It's not right.”
For a minute, she thought he was talking about the way he'd put his hands on her a moment ago and she was about to agree when he said, “I'm back where I started, but it's not the same, Kaylee. Nothing feels right. Not without you. We are not right.”
Uneasy now, she asked, “What do you mean? Daniel, there is no we—”
“But there should be,” he insisted. “We were going to get married, Kaylee. Married!”
The way he emphasized the word made her want to cringe. How ironic, she thought. Too bad he couldn't have felt this way four years ago. But none of it mattered. Not now.
“Remember how excited we were? And that dress...beautiful. I'm sorry I never got to see you in it.”
Gripping her purse in one hand, she started to stand, but Daniel waved her back.
“I know I did you wrong, sweetheart, and I know you were hurt. I get that. But I can't help but think how good we were together and—I think we should try again, you know? Not immediately. I know you'll need a little time to readjust, but I'm home now and I've apologized, and ... I just want it back. I want it all back. I want us back, what we had before, Kaylee.” There was a pleading look in his eyes, one that begged for her to trust the sincerity of his gaze and his tone but, unfortunately for him, it was a look in which she no longer believed.
Something Magical (Witches of Hawthorne Grove Book 1) Page 14