The rest of their drive was a quiet one, at least outwardly. Inside, Madison’s mind was a whirlwind of worry. Worry over nailing Jase’s vision for his ranch, worry about doing her father proud, worry that she was over-worrying… The familiar scrape of gravel beneath tires snapped her back to the present, and she gave her head a small shake, focusing on the B&B.
Once parked and out of the car, she followed Eric up the steps to the inn but paused when her phone dinged.
He held the door open. “You coming?”
Camille’s name on her screen made her pause. “I think I’ll hang out here for a little bit and catch up on my e-mails.”
“All right.”
The door clicking shut behind her barely registered as she skimmed the three paragraphs of Camille’s email. Then she reread them. “This can’t be right.”
Cold inside, she stared at her phone, sinking into the Adirondack on the wraparound. The tiny black text against the bright white background on her screen made the icy blow worse, and more of her shock came out in a whisper. “She’s having second thoughts?”
Instinct urged her to go up and tell Eric, but she hated to disturb him. Except, a part of her knew that wasn’t the whole truth. She didn’t want to tell him because saying it out loud would make it more real. Because then they’d have a conversation. He’d give her a speech about dusting it off and how there are a million other contracts to be won. And he’d be right.
Except, I’m not giving up that easily.
Standing, Madison wandered out to the edge of the clearing with the little swing, mulling over the best way to tell Camille how important this project was to Blakeley A&D—how there wasn’t a more dedicated architect for the job. A phone call she planned to make before tonight’s dinner.
The swing’s rope was rough against her palms where she grasped the braided threads, and she focused on that and not panicking about the email. The wooden plank used for the seat was weathered but looked sturdy enough for swinging. At least she hoped so when it creaked under her weight.
“Need a push?”
Her hand slipped from the rope at the sound of Jase’s voice, and she twisted backward, almost falling off the seat. It took her a second to regain her balance and push her hair out of her face. “Seriously, you’re going to stop my heart for good one of these times.”
His shoulders shook. “Sorry.”
“Liar.” She glanced toward the gravel that led to the front driveway, not having heard him arrive. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been right behind them on the return drive. “Are you just getting back?”
He leaned against a tree and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Pulled in a couple of minutes ago. Ran into Eric in the kitchen.”
Smiling, Madison pushed against the ground just hard enough to sway a few inches back and forth. “The kitchen? Figures.”
“He has a lot of respect for you.”
She peeked at him, wondering where his thoughts were. “He’s a good guy. And a little biased.”
“Yeah?” Reaching up, he broke off a dead, knobby branch from the tree, the edge of his shirt flirting with the top of his jeans where they rested just below his waist. He tore pieces of the brittle wood little by little, absently tossing them. “How so?”
“He’s known me forever. My dad hired him to do his books before I’d even graduated high school. He’s kind of like one of the family.” Fighting for a steady voice proved difficult when every nerve in her body was aware of the guy in front of her—his dark, slightly curling hair, his defined arms that had just the right amount of sun, the cleft in his chin that might actually be a scar…
Seriously. Killing me.
When he stepped away from the tree, she pulled herself up from the swing but didn’t let go of the ropes. “So. This Tines restaurant. What kind of place is it?”
“Good.”
She made a face. “Helpful.”
He untangled a lock of her hair that had wrapped around the rope. “I try.”
The weight of the plank against the backs of her knees, the pressure to close the space between them to see if it was his cologne or the breeze that hinted at spice, was hard to fight.
“Don’t move.”
Her hands dug into the aged rope as his voice deepened to a whisper.
“Just hold still…”
His attention shifted from her eyes to somewhere behind her, and she followed his gaze, catching something big and spindly crawling over her shoulder to disappear down her back. A shudder rippled through her, followed by a squeal she couldn’t control echoing up the hillside.
“Get it off! Get it off!” She spun around, hands flailing and batting at her sweater as she craned her neck to see behind her better.
Catching her good arm, Jase spun her back toward him, a chuckle low in his throat.
“Is it still on me? Did I get it off?” Her body gave another involuntary shudder as her skin prickled like the monster had given birth to a thousand tiny baby ones.
“Your arms are covered in goose bumps.”
“I hate spiders,” she whispered, afraid the beast might come back if she offended it too loudly.
He nodded and whispered back, “I remember.”
“You’re funny.” Her fingers twitched to flick the grin from his face, but then he brushed a hand up over her back and along her shoulder, and she shivered for a different reason.
“Good news is, I think he’s gone. Bad news? I get to tease you about this forever.”
She stepped back to see him better, and because it felt safer for her heart.
It wasn’t.
“You just wait until I find one of your weaknesses.”
Jase’s scoff created more echoes. “Best of luck with that. I’m pretty perfect.”
Containing her laughter was impossible. “Of course you are.”
His hands were back in his pockets, and he’d dialed his arrogant smile back a notch or two. “Are you going to be okay? No permanent psychological damage? Because that makes making fun of you a little tricky.”
“Ha. Ha.” Almost unconsciously, she rubbed her hands down her arms, shivering for what felt like the ten billionth time. “What was that thing? I swear he was ten times the size of the one in my lemon tree.” She stole another glimpse of her sweater.
“Wolf spider. Completely harmless.”
She shook her head. “No way. Something that huge is definitely full of harm. Lots and lots of harm.”
He brought a fist to his mouth as he cleared his throat, but the gesture far from hid the smile behind it. “Actually, this guy was puny compared to the ones we’d catch in the barns—”
“Stop! I’m not listening.” Madison covered her ears. “I don’t want to know.”
Two birds took flight from a nearby tree as he cracked up. Even the leaves seemed to shake with the sound of his deep laughter.
“It’s not funny.” Madison pushed at his arm, trying not to join him but failed. When she finally did catch a breath, she wasn’t the only one swiping at tears. A sigh fell from her lips. “I think I really needed that.”
He cocked his head. “You needed to be assaulted by a spider?”
Another shudder tore through her, but she lifted her mouth at one side. “No. But I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. So, thank you.”
“Anytime.” His phone rang, and he pulled it out to check the screen. A tight line replaced his smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this. It’s that same problem from last night.”
“No worries.”
Hesitation seemed to keep him in place. “See you downstairs at seven?”
She nodded then watched him walk back toward the B&B with his phone to his ear.
With his absence, her resolution to call Camille slammed back into her, mixing with everything else as she made her own way to the house. Her thoughts were so mottled in her head, she couldn’t have read schematics to a beach hut.
Camille. Hopes and dreams. Then there was a certain gorgeou
s guy who radiated ambition and assurance, as well as forgiveness and kindness. One who had her considering long walks on La Jolla Beach under midnight stars or evenings spent cooling off in the river teasing his Idaho ranch.
Which was stupid. Like her foolish daydreams. And that’s all it was. Jase was attractive.
And haunted, if his actions on the ranch were any clue.
I’m no better than those ridiculous women at the gala who fell all over him. Which is one more reason to keep things on the right side of professional in all things Jase Cutter.
“Focus, Madison.”
Tonight was important. She needed her A-plus-plus game. Camille and the restaurant were out of her control at the moment, so she’d sweep all disappointment under the hope Jase would see her talent and want Blakeley A&D on future projects that would get her name out there in a big way.
Madison mulled over her new determination as she entered the kitchen through the back door, but stopped barely two feet in. “What is that goodness I smell?”
“My grandmother’s famous peach pie.”
She smiled at Jo, the B&B’s owner she’d met during breakfast. “And here I thought your amazing waffles couldn’t be topped.”
“I have a few surprises up my sleeve.”
Her stomach growled. “You won’t hear this girl complain.”
Jo laughed, tucking her slightly graying hair behind one ear, exposing a single white feather hanging from a delicate metal hoop earring. “Well? How do you like Idaho so far?”
“It’s nothing like San Diego.”
The host snort-laughed. “We’re a lot more slow-paced, for better or worse.”
With a Santa oven mitt on one hand, and a pumpkin mitt on the other, Jo fanned the spiraling steam from the most mouthwatering fruit pie Madison had ever seen. The aroma alone intoxicated.
“I’m going to leave this place five pounds heavier and not regret it a second,” she said. “That looks and smells heavenly.”
Jo pushed the pie to the middle of a cooling rack and nodded toward a stack of plates. Her orange and yellow shift dress settled right above her knees, complementing the turquoise stones in her multi-layered necklace and the blue in her eyes. “Want a slice?”
“Tempting as that is—so tempting—I’d better not. I’ve got a dinner tonight. But…save me one?”
“Deal.”
Madison answered with a grin, but it faltered. “Speaking of said dinner, can I get your help?”
“I’ll do my best and try.”
“What is the dress code for the Tines restaurant?”
The proprietress returned the oven mitts to a drawer next to the stove then brushed her hands together. “Being a resort town, it’s usually anything goes, but Tine’s is definitely higher scale. You could wear a casual dress or slacks and a cardigan, though, and not feel too out of place.”
Too out of place.
Madison chewed on the end of her thumbnail, staring off at the wall, as if it might suddenly rearrange her wardrobe upstairs and present something brilliant to wear. Which it didn’t. “Jo?”
The woman’s brows quirked over curious eyes. “Yes?”
“You don’t know of a place in town I can find a dress last minute, do you? I really, really don’t want to be out of place tonight.”
She also really, really didn’t want to examine too closely why.
Chapter Ten
Madison sat on the edge of the cold, white enameled tub, staring at the back of the bathroom door. A long, black vinyl bag hanging there gawked back. She padded her foot against the ivory tile, the continuous tap-tap-tap loud in the small space. She’d rationalized her hasty trip into town on wanting to make a good business impression, and it was true.
Mostly.
Catching sight of her phone screen, she flinched. The time showed less than twenty minutes to be downstairs, and it didn’t take a mirror to know her hair framed her face in volume-less layers, a gift from standing under the afternoon sun. Avoiding the large gilded thing altogether, she tugged on the bag’s zipper, sending more echoes through the room.
The bag crinkled as she lifted it off the door's hook and carefully pushed the vinyl away, letting it fall to the floor. The knee-length dress hung on a satin hanger, the deep blue shimmering like it held a sky full of tiny stars. Beautiful. Just like in the store. A thin silver belt looped around the middle, the elbow-length sleeves gathering at the ends where they’d hide her bandage perfectly.
A thrill eddied through her as she held it close.
Classic with a little flair.
The flowy, silky material was heaven against her skin as she slipped it on, and the strappy sandals purchased with it complemented the dress perfectly. For a moment, she was almost able to forget her phone call with Camille. The one that hadn’t changed anything. The one that had left her feeling all but numb afterward. But, those heavy thoughts wouldn’t do any good tonight, so she urged her chin up and stole a few extra moments to admire her outfit, keeping all of her focus on the future.
Madison almost kissed the four bobby pins hiding at the bottom of her makeup bag and decided on a low bun. Twisting and pinning her hair at the nape of her neck, she let a few pieces escape to fall around her face. With a swipe of her favorite lip gloss, and purse in hand, she headed out to the loft where Eric waited.
“Wow.” An almost tangible awareness deepened the color of his eyes as he took her in, then he swallowed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he cleared his throat. “You changed.”
“Mm, hmm.”
“You packed a dress?”
“I’m wearing one, aren’t I?” She prayed he wouldn’t pry further, knowing the truth would spill out if he asked.
He didn’t. Her friend-slash-accountant also didn’t move from his spot by the coffee table. His jaw worked like he had something to say.
She restrained from fidgeting with the charm on her bracelet. “What?”
“All this for him?”
“No.” Adjusting the belt around her waist, she didn’t meet his gaze right away. “This dinner is important. I want to make a good impression.”
He waited.
“And I want to enjoy tonight, don’t you?”
“I’m taking the fifth.”
She folded her arms, ignoring the shot of pain from her cut, and waited.
“Fine. I’m thrilled about dinner. Happy?” His shoulders relaxed, but there was an edge to his joking.
“Be serious.”
“Oh, come on. Fifty bucks says this is one of those restaurants that employs artists instead of cooks. Where your plates come out mimicking a Picasso, the servings the size of quarters. You can’t tell me you’re looking forward to that.”
“Eric, please.” Madison lowered her voice. “I need you to be professional about this.”
He looked at his slacks and then touched the second to top button on his polo shirt.
“I’m not talking about how you look. I mean your attitude.” His dislike of the wealthy, the subtle jabs at Jase, all of it dug under her skin. Adding to that her own company goals and losing Camille’s restaurant contract, and a headache began to stab the base of her skull. Eric’s prejudices had never been a secret, so why had bringing him sounded like a such a good idea?
“You have something to say. I can see it.”
Stealing every ounce of her nerves, she clutched her purse and stood tall. “I need you to step up tonight and act like you’re a competent member of my team. If you can’t do that, then maybe you should stay behind.”
He stared. “You’re serious?”
She studied his familiar face, trying to find words to make him understand his careless observations and opinions were going to hurt the new direction she was trying to take the company. How they already had. “You’re a good friend, one of the best, but I don’t need my friend tonight. I need my accountant.”
The shadows beyond the windows had nothing on the hollow reflection in his eyes. “I think tonight three�
�s a crowd.”
“Eric—”
“Stop. I get it. I screwed up with Dustin. And yes, it’s hard for me to trust Mr. Money over there.” He pointed like Jase was down the hall, his voice low and even. “So, maybe you’re right, and I should sit this one out like I’d planned on earlier.”
Madison waited for it, for the tension-breaking jest and reassuring smile, but he only brushed past her to his room and shut the door. She stared at the thick wood separating them but startled when Jo appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” she managed. “Especially for the last-minute help. That charming shop you suggested was perfect.”
“Glad it worked out.” One of the woman’s brows inched lower than the other. “Is everything all right?”
“Perfect. Everything’s perfect.” Her answer was hardly convincing, but thankfully Jo let it drop.
“Jase asked me to tell you he’s out front when you and Eric are ready to leave.”
“Okay, great.” Needing an extra minute, she waited at the top of the stairs for her hostess to disappear into the kitchen, then made her way down to the front door and pulled it open.
Jase stood with his back to the B&B but turned when the boards creaked beneath her steps. His gaze traveled over her dress but lingered on her eyes as his mouth lifted at the corners.
“Miss Blakeley.”
“Mr. Cutter.”
His cologne was definitely an earthy spice, the combination a perfect match for the man in front of her. A little small town, a little big city. She inhaled, letting the scent spark her anticipation for the night. A night that was not a date…
“I apologize for being a few minutes late. Eric… He had something come up that needs his attention, so he won’t be joining us.”
“I hope everything is okay?”
She glanced over her shoulder to the door of the B&B, her words to her old friend still painfully clear. “Me, too.”
Returning her focus to her potential client, she noted how his dark sweater pulled across his chest as he gestured to the car, the blue, collared shirt beneath heightening the green in his eyes. Eyes focused on her.
“Ready?”
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