I chalked that date up to another loss in the long line of blind dates my friends, Jocelyn and Michaela, along with my sister Mady set me up with. I don’t know why it was their mission to pair me with someone they thought was “the perfect fit” for me, or who I was destined to be with. But I foolishly went along.
I often went on blind dates or dates with people I met in public. Usually, after the first two or three, I lost interest and returned my focus to work. I had made my business my “significant other,” pouring all my heart and soul into it. It left me little time for dating, and when I did make time, I was disappointed about my choices.
I was a serious person by nature and had no interest in playing the games people seemed to play in the dating world. I had watched Jocelyn, Michaela, and Mady go through heartbreak to the point of almost losing themselves in certain instances. That would never be me. Jocelyn had come out on the winning side, finding a husband who adored her and treasured everything about her.
Crash. A cart slammed into mine as I turned the corner. Cooper. Another one in the long line of losses. I hadn’t seen him in three months. We had fun on our date, but there was something about Cooper that seemed mysterious. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I was always one to trust my instincts. So, after the first date, I had not accepted his calls, and finally, he had given up.
“Nicole!” he exclaimed, a smile brightening his features. His wavy, chestnut-colored hair was as meticulously groomed as it had been the evening we spent together. I could see his muscles outlined better in the jeans and t-shirt he now wore, compared to his form in a suit, which had been his previous attire.
“Hi Cooper,” I greeted a little less enthusiastically, trying to find some excuse I could pass off for a reason I hadn’t called.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said, pointing at my cart.
“I own my interior design business, remember?”
“Oh, yes, you did say that. I might have to recruit your services for some of the houses I’m flipping. If you’re available, I mean,” Cooper said, nodding at my cart again.
“I’m tied up in a new project at the moment, but I should be free in a few months. How has business been?”
“Well, it’s that time of the season where things ramp up, and I’ve been pretty successful,” he said in a modest tone.
“That’s good, Cooper.”
I could tell he had spent an ample amount of time in the sun. His skin color had enhanced from dark gold to a coppery bronze. It looked good on him.
“So, I thought we had fun on our date. What happened to you? I thought you’d dropped off the face of the earth.”
“I did enjoy the date, Cooper, I just needed to focus more time and energy on this project I was submitting a proposal for. It took all of my time and energy.”
“Did you get it?” he asked, looking hopeful.
“I did. Now my schedule’s going to be even more hectic,” I replied, anticipating where he was going.
“Well, maybe when things slow down a bit for you, we can go out again. I really enjoyed our time together, and the conversation was nice, too. Nicole, I hope I'm not too forward in stating I want to get to know you,” Cooper suggested.
Is this how successful dates came to be? In a home improvement store over cans of paint in his basket and cabinetry fixtures in mine?
“Well, let’s get past our busy season first, and we’ll see what happens from there,” I responded.
He nodded his head and said, “I’ll look forward to it,” and turned his cart in the opposite direction.
I don’t know what prompted my next move, and why I felt so guilty about turning him down. But I spoke too fast, wanting to eliminate the guilt.
“Cooper!” I called after his retreating form.
He slowed down and glanced back at me again.
“Perhaps, we can take an initial day to hang out this Sunday? I can probably spare a few hours...if you can?”
“Sure, Nicole. What time?”
“Let’s meet up at Spice, at five.”
Spice was a local Cuban restaurant with Salsa dancing and erotic reads. On Sundays, the erotic reads were replaced with poetry influenced by the Cuban culture. So, while we would still have fun, I knew that it wasn’t too sensual to lead him to make his own conclusions.
“That sounds great, Nicole. I look forward to seeing you there,” he said with a huge smile that made me feel somewhat guilty.
I WAS TAKING MEASUREMENTS of the windows when I felt a shifting in the atmosphere. His energy was strong, sexual, and predatory. Not to mention the savory, seductive fragrance of his cologne. The scent was a natural, woodsy scent with notes of spices and leather.
Turning to look over my shoulder, I became breathless when I spotted him leaning against the doorjamb. Hands shoved into the front pockets of his washed-out jeans, a white t-shirt clinging to his large chest, sleeves stopping at the top of those bulging biceps.
I had not seen him in almost two weeks, but he looked even better than I recalled. Onyx stubble covered his face, and his wild hair was standing all over the place, giving him a rugged look. Those silver-blue eyes were narrowed and intentional as he stared at me.
“Is something wrong, Greyson?” I asked, concern coloring my voice.
The last thing I wanted or needed was for him to be disappointed in my work. Although he had been traveling, I was certain he had time to view some of the purchases I had made for the hotel.
“No, just thinking.”
“About?”
He shook his head, “Nothing that I’m ready to discuss now. Just pondering some thoughts, I’ll let you know once I’ve flushed them out,” he said, stepping into the room.
My breathing became labored, the closer he came, and I know it was because of his gaze never leaving my face.
“Did you see the choices I selected for the kitchen floor and the bedroom floors?”
He simply nodded. “Great selections.”
“I thought the darker woods in the bedroom would provide more of a homely and warm feeling. I still must check on some rug selections to place in each of them. I’m visiting a Persian rug factory in Atlanta tomorrow. I have an appointment with the owner around ten. Would you like to come along?”
I knew Greyson was a busy man, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if he couldn’t make it. I knew there were many facets to this project that required his attention.
“How long do you expect it to take?”
I puckered my lips, calculating the anticipated time, not wanting to downplay the attention this project needed. “Oh, I’m expecting to be there at least three hours before returning to Savannah.”
“Ten, you say?”
“Yes, I’ll be heading out a little before seven.”
Nodding his head, he surprised me. “I’ll go. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty. Make sure to text me the address, and we’ll head out then,” he ordered.
I was surprised that he would be willing to do it but did not dare say it because I did not want him to change his mind.
“You looked surprised,” he said as if reading my mind.
“Well, I know that you have a lot to do, and I didn’t think you would really have time to dedicate to something like this.”
Shrugging, he turned his lips down. “I told you that I would be involved in all aspects of this project. Not that I don’t trust you, because I do. But this project is extremely important to me. I’ve dedicated a lot of time to the other areas, making sure the contractors capture my ideas, every cut, and groove. Making sure landscapers designs match the preliminaries you’ve shown me. I want the outside to reflect the inner sanctum of the hotel and the inside to flow out. I haven’t spent a lot of time on this part with you, because I really do trust your ideas and decision-making. But I need to be involved as much as possible, giving you a chance to make sure we have the connection we need and be eye to eye on this project,” he stated, rubbing the stubble and looking around the room with an
appraising eye.
I wondered what that hair on his jawline felt like. Was it prickly like I suspected, or deceptively soft?
I pulled my attention away from him and returned to the measurements.
“Thanks, Greyson. I’ll be ready in the morning, and I’ll text you my address.”
Nodding, he stepped from the room, seemingly lost in thought. Greyson kept me wondering about him. He was mostly upbeat, filled with laughter, an aggressive alpha male. But there were times today where he seemed a bit more reserved as if there was something else going on there.
CHAPTER 5 - GREYSON
I wasn’t interested in viewing Persian rug selections. I had not lied when I told Nicole that I trusted her judgments and decision making. I had only stepped back because I was curious about this feeling, I had begun to develop for a woman I had only recently met.
It was easy to reflect on the casual conversations and small talk we enjoyed before meeting one another. I felt we had created a bond early on, but of course, that was easy when you didn’t really know a person. Once I melt the gorgeous, Nicole, I found myself wanting to touch her. Just a casual touch to see if her copper skin, as bright as a new penny, felt as smooth as it looked.
Whenever she parted her lips, I wanted to sample her kisses, to see if they were as sweet as her personality. But I was reluctant to mix business with pleasure. I was reluctant to become involved with anyone at all, any time soon. Yet, I was drawn to her; she was like a force I could not and did not want to avoid.
The trips I had taken, while they were important, I could easily have asked Father to send someone else in my place. I chose not to, opting instead to put some distance between Nicole and me. But as soon as I stepped foot in the Southern heat of Savannah, I wanted to see her immediately. She was the reason I rushed to the site so early yesterday morning. I had returned home determined I would spend more time getting to know my interior designer on a more personal level, enhancing the bond I had sensed us creating over the phone calls in our earlier interactions.
Now here we were closed in this car with one another, and every little sigh, giggle, or flip of her hair enticed me. Right now, I was stealing glimpses of her when my eyes weren’t on the road. I couldn’t see the cute little dimple in the right cheek, but I knew it was there as soon as she laughed.
Glancing at her again, I wanted her attention on me.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, glancing down at her phone and back to the road.
“Oh, nothing. Returning emails my business partner sent me, but she shared something crazy about what she and her husband had gone through in their latest efforts to have children.”
I smiled and thought about Nicole. What were her desires? Why wasn’t she married, and did she want kids? I knew she did not have any from a previous conversation.
“Do you?” I asked, risking a glance at her.
“Do I what?”
“Want kids?”
A smile took over her face that was as bright as the sunshine in winter against a backdrop of cold snow. Her breathing appeared to quicken, making me wonder what she was thinking. I didn’t think I was too forward, but women and their ways were as diverse and mysterious as humans occupying the earth from the animals in the ocean.
“Yeah, I actually do,” she murmured softly, still staring at her phone.
“How many?”
Laughing, she replied, “Oh, maybe two or three. I think I might have mentioned there are three of us, me, my sister Mady, and my brother, Zion. It was great growing up with them. My sister is four years younger than me and looks up to me the way I look up to my brother, Zion, who only has two years on me. He’s married to his wife, Zoe, of six years. They have two kids, my nephew, Zay, short for Xavier, is three, and Chloe, who’s only eighteen months are the most adorable kids ever.”
I was caught up in the look of bliss and joy on her face and realized not only was she close to her siblings, but family meant everything to her. This was important in her life, as it was in mine. But there was a stark difference, because of the competitive nature between my brothers and me. We also didn’t spend a lot of time together, since we were spread across the country and continents for the most part.”
She grew silent, and my eyes went to hers. A shy grin spread across her face as she tucked a chunk of thick hair behind her ears.
“I’m sorry, I’m just rattling on about my life. What about you? Do you think you might ever want or have kids with your hectic schedule?”
That was an easy question, but I wanted to address something else first. “It’s okay that you rattle on. I like hearing about your family, the obvious love and closeness to them. I admire that.”
“Thank you,” she said so softly I almost missed it.
“Now, to your question. I plan to have a battalion of kids when I have them. I want a close-knit family, and I think kids are great. We don’t have any in our immediate family, but distant relatives have younger children. They’re close, there’s lots of laughter, love, and joy. I want that for my kids, also. Only the competitiveness that has been fostered between my brothers and I won’t exist with my kids.”
“Competitiveness can be a good, healthy quality if nurtured properly.”
I released a soft chuckle, glancing at her again as we neared the signs stating Atlanta was only another fifty miles away.
“It can be, but it can also be challenging. It’s a close line, one that has to be carefully monitored, so it does not grow in the wrong direction. Creating animosity and discord.” I was thinking about Mitch.
“Spoken like a man who has been down that road, I suspect.” Her statement was not like she was prying, but more as if she was concerned.
“My father has this idea that it pushes all of us to be better businessmen, the more aggressive and competitive, the more successful we become. That’s his mantra. He doesn’t see that it’s had the opposite effect on us,” I said, still trying to force the resentment from my voice. I failed.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Sometimes, we have to face challenges in life that we think we’re not equipped for, but they only make us stronger. We have to believe we’ll come out on the other side better than before.”
She shared a beautiful smile with me that sent a hot streak of desire straight to my belly.
I forced my thoughts away from her as they turned momentarily towards Mitch, thinking about the words she spoke. I wanted better for my brother, but when people go down a path of destruction, it’s hard to derail that train before it crashes.
“How did you become so wise, Nicole?”
“Listening to my parents and my grandparents. Older people have a treasure trove of knowledge that we would all do well to learn from. Are you close to your siblings?”
“I’m as close as four men can expect to be, carrying the baggage of a prior generation. I would have to say I’m the closest to Mitch, although he’s constantly in trouble and looked down upon by my father. If he’s not in the casinos, he’s in jail. But I understand his pain. Nothing is ever good enough for Father, though I don’t doubt his love for us. He’s a perfectionist and wants the best for all of us. Kent is spoiled and resents the leash I have to keep him on when my parents are out of town. That’s my mother’s fault, mostly. He could never do any wrong.”
“What about your oldest brother? Grant. I read that he was the Chief Securities Officer for the company. He seems to be extremely successful.”
“He is, but that’s because he, like me, bought into Father’s guise of success, competitiveness, and never settling for good enough. He understands he doesn’t want to create a family and pass that legacy on. So, he avoids having kids or settling with one woman like the plague.”
“Are you two close?” she asked, resting her head in the palm of her hand. Nicole seemed to be genuinely interested in what I had to say.
“I mean, we get along well, but with him living in Spain and traveling all the time, we seldom see one another. Usually, when he com
es to the states for business, I’m away.”
“What about holidays, does your family have traditional holidays coming together as a family at Thanksgiving and Christmas?”
“That’s about the only time. It’s an expectation Mom set that she won’t back down from. We all want to please her because no matter how disappointing our actions may be at any given time, she doesn’t see it that way. She’s a good mother, but not too often will she stand against Father.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe, one of you boys will have to set the example for what you want from your family before they can understand and replicate,” she suggested.
I neither agreed or disagreed; I just nodded my head and allowed my thoughts to linger on my family and their woes. Despite how rich we were, it seemed the Cabot family had more wealth than we could accumulate in a lifetime.
CHAPTER 6 – NICOLE
Greyson had been patient while we shopped for carpeting, trusting my expertise, and asking questions where appropriate. But I knew his heart and mind weren’t in it. He had been somewhat distant since our conversation about our families that morning. I could tell there was an obvious wedge in his, despite the fact they loved each other.
I wanted to do something to pull him out of the funk he was in and pull that Greyson I initially met back out.
So, for lunch when he proposed it, I suggested we grab burgers from Five Guys and a sack of fries to eat on the road, but that was only if he would go skating first.
“I haven’t done this in ages,” he said, lacing up his skates.
“Oh, this is like riding a bike,” I encouraged.
He gave me a solemn look before looking back down to finish tying his skates. Did I detect apprehension in him? Someone who was a billionaire, making his own name in the industry his family dominated and had developed a legacy in. How was it that skating could be a fear for him?
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