A Heart's Design

by Natalee Cooper

“Yes.” For the second time that night, she resisted the urge to fidget with her bracelet.

  In the car, Jase pushed the key into the ignition but didn’t turn it over. “You look like you have a lot on your mind.”

  “Just excited to see more of Sun Valley.”

  Starting the engine, he pulled out onto the road, but she didn’t miss the way his brows creased together.

  “How’s the new business location been for you?” he asked. “Do you like La Jolla?”

  “Love it. That area of San Diego has always been one of my favorites.” The topic change helped her settle deeper into the seat, her headache easing as the landscape blurred past. “I can’t believe everything is still so green up here.”

  “Don’t be deceived. Two more weeks and this place will hit the jackpot.”

  Pulling her gaze from the scenery, she raised her brows. “Jackpot?”

  “That’s what my dad always called it. You know, when fall hits? Jackpot.”

  “Okay, why?”

  “Because.” He pointed to a cluster of quaking aspen tucked into the hillside between the pines. “Pretty soon all those leaves out there will turn golden yellow. The hillsides will look like someone sprinkled buckets of gold on them.”

  “Hmm.” The description left a vivid picture in her head. “We should have timed this trip better.”

  Making a left as the Sun Valley resort came into view, he caught her gaze. “We’ll plan better next time.”

  Warmth rushed her skin, something she decided to blame on the car’s heater, and she blessed the first busy street light that came into view. “Wow, where do you park around here?”

  “Tonight? Probably over there.” He pointed to a large public parking lot. “But…” He made another left and then a right, leading them several blocks away from the entrance to the public parking. “I’m going to be a gentleman and drop you off. The reservation is under my name. I’ll park and meet you.”

  “I don’t mind walking.”

  “I know.”

  “But you’re dropping me off anyway, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  And without a missed beat, Madison stood in the middle of a crowd outside of Tines, watching him speed away. After several excuse mes, and pardon mes, she found the hostess standing at a tall podium.

  The woman greeted her with a smile, but it was a little frazzled like her hair. “I can take your name if you’d like, though there’s about an hour and twenty-minute wait.”

  “We have a reservation for a party of three under Cutter,” she said. “Though, it’s only for two now.”

  Scanning a tablet, the hostess mumbled the name under her breath until she found it. “If you’ll follow Peter, I’ll have him show the rest of your party to the table when they get here.”

  Unlike the entrance, the restaurant was quieter. Intimate. And definitely exclusive. Touching the silver belt at her waist, she followed the server, tempted to run a hand down her dress to smooth any creases as a few faces turned her way.

  After the lanky but well-groomed teen helped her into her seat in a secluded corner of the room, she watched him retreat, and winced when he almost ran into someone—no, not someone—Jase. And all too quickly thoughts of wrinkles, Camille, and Eric shuffled to the background.

  A flutter accompanied her to her feet when he reached the table, mixed with something else…

  Anticipation? Apprehension?

  She decided it was a mix of both.

  Business, Madison.

  Jase gave her that killer grin she loved, though he kept his face angled away from the other patrons, leaving her to wonder what it must be like under a spotlight. Even a small one.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  Retaking her seat, she laid her napkin across her lap while he sat down. “Is the town always this busy?”

  “Only when there’s something going on.”

  “That’s right. Your assistant mentioned a convention.”

  “They host a lot of different events here throughout the year. Growing up we usually stayed away on those weekends. Except for the antiques and arts shows.”

  “Oh, so you’re a connoisseur of the arts?”

  His tenor laugh was just loud enough to reach her ears.

  “My mom loved antiques and dragged us down a few times. We may have kicked and screamed.”

  She couldn’t picture him throwing a tantrum but would have liked to see the bachelor as a young boy. “At least you can say you’re well-rounded.”

  “Or something.” He still chuckled. “I do have good taste in art, thanks to her.”

  Memories she couldn’t see seemed to steal his attention, fading his smile like the sun at dusk. She started to ask more about his mother, but the weight of the lines around his mouth stopped her. Instead, she focused on the details of the large room. “I love the stone archways in here.”

  His expression softened, and he nodded. “They’ve always reminded me of an old train station. On a smaller scale.”

  “Exactly!”

  “As a kid, we visited some great stations. I used to imagine them as portals to another realm. You know, because all otherworldly portals are found in old train stops.”

  “Obviously.” Light laughter connected between them, easing the tangled nerves that had followed her into the restaurant.

  “Thank you again for coming to Idaho.” He leaned back, resting his fingers casually on the edge of the mahogany tabletop. “To look at the ranch and also tonight.”

  “You have a fantastic place up here.”

  Soft, dazzling lights winked from where they stretched over an arbor on the other side of the window, their romantic glow undermining her vow to keep tonight strictly business. Madison clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap, but that only brought her nerves lurking back. Picking up her menu, she scanned it, hoping he couldn’t see she was hiding. Which she totally was.

  “Tell me more about your ideas for the back of the house. I noticed several notes you’d made in your folder about a covered deck.”

  She peered over the top of the menu’s thick sheets of paper bound with twine then set it down. “I was pretty excited about the possibilities from the start, but after seeing the view, it changes so much.” After taking a small sip of water, she continued. “With the northeast tree-lined hillside, I assume you’ll spend a lot of your time outside. Of course, you’ll want a lot of focus on the kitchen and the great room, but if you're anything like me, the perfect outdoor space will lure me in every time. Or in this case, out.”

  “Do you have a spot like that at your place?”

  She blinked at the genuine curiosity highlighting his eyes and tracing the curves of his mouth as he waited for her answer to the personal question. “I guess I do. It's nothing grand or too exciting, but it's enough to tempt me out there more than I probably have time for.” A small laugh escaped.

  The waiter appeared then and, after taking their orders, Jase asked more about her ideas for the deck. “I like how you talk as if that outdoor space is its own room.”

  “It is though, right? Or maybe more a gateway space.” She scrunched up her nose, trying to frame the right words. “Your land, I don’t know. It’s begging to be used. Enjoyed. And the perfect deck or wraparound will create an easy access to all of those adventures.” The awe in walking and observing his land from earlier had her softening her voice. “Like a certain trail I noticed earlier today.”

  He touched the stem of his glass but didn’t take a drink. “I’d forgotten about that path. I’m surprised it’s still there.”

  “Pretty please tell me there’s a clubhouse at the top of that tree ladder.”

  A half-smile touched his lips. “What good is a ladder without one? Though, it was an army fort, of course.”

  Something inside her begged him to take her by the hand and lead her there at that very moment. Which is ridiculous. “You know, you might break both the ranch and my heart if you don’t spend at least
half of your time up here enjoying it all when this is finished.”

  His answering laugh turned at least three heads. “Are you always this passionate about your designs?”

  “Yes.” Her quieter laughter didn’t attract attention, but it sparked a light in his eyes, and she loved that she’d put it there.

  “I like it.”

  Madison tucked the compliment away, disappointed when their food came. While they ate, they discussed the thick wood beams she’d envisioned for the large, covered, wraparound porch and the different options for flooring.

  “What would you think about adding a lower deck?” she asked after finishing her last bite of pasta and pushing her plate to the side. “It could be great for entertaining on a more personal level.”

  He folded his napkin and rested his arms on the table. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Maybe a hot tub. Or a… Well, you know. Something fun and relaxing.”

  “Wait, back up. You were going to say something else.”

  Her own napkin wrapped between her fingers as she twisted it where it lay across her lap, her confidence stretching thin like the black fabric as she mentioned her idea of a built-in fire pit, conscious of his reaction to the fireplaces earlier. “It could be a great feature. If you like that sort of thing.”

  “Hmm.” He sipped from his glass, then set it down slowly. “You sound pretty convinced it needs one.”

  Despite her casual shrug, she took a chance. “If it were me, I’d spend hours out under the skies up here, wrapped in a blanket by the fire, sipping hot chocolate. Or, unwinding in a hot tub where the water’s almost too hot, but the cool night against your skin makes you want to sink lower.” She leaned forward. “That would be the perfect evening under the stars.” When one of his dark brows rose a fraction, she cleared her throat. “Anyway, it’s a thought. The lower deck.”

  “It’s good.”

  A waiter chose then to refill their glasses and remove their plates, and this time Madison was grateful for the young man’s timing. The interruption pulled her back to business and away from starry skies and late nights on the ranch. When they were alone again, she asked Jase about his preferences on different building materials and got so caught up in woods versus composites and other modern products, she barely noticed the couples rising from their chairs to enjoy the band who'd begun to play in the corner of the room.

  “Your outdoor space will be the perfect spot for entertaining and family gatherings or to simply relax with a good book or great music,” she said. “But be careful. Whoever you invite to visit may never leave.”

  He laughed, if the short, clipped sound could be called that. “Right.”

  Silly as it was, his short answer depressed her.

  “Does your family get together a lot in your outdoor space you love so much?” he asked.

  “We used to.”

  Like something out of a photo shoot, he rested his fist lightly against his lips, adding awareness to the trace of stubble along his jaw. His hair was longer than she remembered, the ends curling slightly over the tops of his ears.

  “You said used to, what do you mean?”

  His question touched the tender corners of her heart where memories of her family were cached away. “Well, since losing my dad, it’s just me now.”

  “Right. Only child. But not a spoiled brat.”

  She laughed. “Yep.”

  “But what about your mom? The one who passed on her hate of the eight-legged creatures?”

  “My mom died when I was four and a half.”

  Regret clouded his features. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s okay.” And it was. The memories of her mother might be blurry, but she loved the stories her father had shared with her. Many of which included their outdoor spot with its small patio deck, swing, and fire pit.

  “So, you have no other family?”

  His direct gaze pierced right to her core, like he cared—like the thought she might be alone truly concerned him. “I have an aunt and a few cousins scattered here and there, but it's pretty much only me. I'm okay with it, though. I mean, I miss my parents, but it's getting easier—most days anyway.” She set her napkin on the table. “My dad was so excited the day I graduated college with my Masters of Architecture. Like, embarrassingly giddy. He'd had all these dreams for us.” The wistfulness in her voice caused heat to wash over her cheeks. “And now I’m rambling. Again.” A breathless laugh fell from her lips, and she wished she could hide behind her menu again. “So, you're originally from Idaho?”

  “Yes.”

  Okay, she thought when he didn't elaborate. “What made you want to move to California?”

  A shadow crossed his face, but it could have been a play of the lights. Under the soft glow of the lamps, the bruise on his jaw didn't stand out so much, and he pushed his sleeves up to rest below his elbows. When he met her gaze, his eyes had gone nearly as dark as the night sky.

  “Dance with me?”

  “What?”

  He rose and, standing in front of her, took her hand and pulled her up. “Dance with me, Miss Blakeley.”

  The timbre of his voice toyed with the tight control she’d placed on all of her senses, and she found herself standing. “You keep doing that.”

  “Doing what?” He walked backward, taking her with him.

  “Catching me off guard.”

  At the edge of the dance floor, out of the way of the brighter lights, he drew her close. He must have sensed her uncertainty because he slowed their steps and leaned in.

  “Dance with me, Madison.”

  Her name whispered from his lips, the feel of his fingers wrapped around hers, sent a shiver straight through her, enough he must have felt it. “You're making me nervous.”

  “I don’t mean to.”

  The sincerity in his eyes echoed his words, and she focused on him, letting everyone else around them fade into the background.

  “But I do have a confession.” His hand slid to the middle of her back as if he was afraid she'd pull away. “You made me nervous the moment I walked into the restaurant and saw you standing there.”

  The warmth on her cheeks had nothing to do with the dancing. “It’s—it’s the music. And all of the lights…”

  He moved closer, his breath teasing the tender spot behind her ear as he gave a hesitant laugh. “It isn't the music or lights that have been breaking into my thoughts since the gala.”

  Like a hummingbird’s wings, her pulse sped wildly. She leaned in so he wouldn't see her blush, but the soft scratch of his jaw against her temple and the strength of his arms as he held her only challenged her heart to a quicker beat. His cologne filled her senses, that faint spice with a hint of sweet, tempting her like she knew it would, and the lure to let her fingers get lost in his thick hair was hard to resist with her hand at his shoulder.

  Attraction wasn’t a novel feeling, yet with him it overwhelmed, and it hit her for the first time that the allure wasn’t simply his attractiveness or admirable success, it was also his easy smile and his confidence. Not only in himself, but in her, and, at the same time, his vulnerability. That shadowed light she'd glimpsed in his eyes, the one reflecting the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders, stirred her soul.

  I’m in trouble.

  The song ended on a low, almost reverent note, but her heartbeat quickened. He pulled back, all of his attention on her. Not the room, not the band, not the low conversations. She sensed desire there and, for one breathless moment, thought he might kiss her.

  Instead, he let his hands drop away. “Thank you for the dance.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jase’s foot slipped off the edge of the sidewalk, and he cursed under his breath, re-matching his steps with Madison’s. If those loose strands of hair framing her face weren’t so distracting, he could concentrate more on walking a straight line than on the beautiful woman next to him.

  He’d asked about her decision to follow in her fa
ther's footsteps as they passed the Sun Valley shops, loving the way her eyes lightened and her posture relaxed as she talked, just like they had earlier after the spider incident.

  Glimpsing this part of her made it easy to forget the nagging dread of running into someone from his past. Dinner had been a risk, one he originally hadn’t planned to take, but his brain didn’t think clearly around the passionate architect. Like now, and this morning, when he’d made their reservation at Tines. At least these conventions meant swarms of out-of-towners and strangers, crowds too big to be recognized in, leaving him free to enjoy her company.

  “So, you're a daddy's girl,” he concluded.

  “Yeah, I totally am.” She laughed. “When I was little, I followed him everywhere and did everything he did. He had this woodshop out back where he liked to tinker. I would sit for hours watching him.”

  Jase slowed his steps to see her better. She stared at the display windows, though he wasn’t sure her eyes focused on anything in particular.

  “My dad had this picture of me on his desk from when I was six, with his safety glasses on my face and the biggest grin. They drowned me, of course. He loved it, though.”

  “I'm sorry you lost him.” He spoke just loud enough to be heard over the chatter around them. “For what it's worth, I'm sure he's proud of you for what you're doing with the business.”

  Hope brightened her features like sun over water. “It’s definitely been one of the hardest things I've done, but I love what I do. He gave me that passion. Besides, giving up isn't an option when something is so much a part of you.”

  Awe guided his steps as he walked next to the adorable, yet incredibly strong woman. Who would have guessed the burdens she carried?

  Burdens not so different from my own.

  “No, giving up shouldn’t be an option.” The words struck with a guilt-tipped sword. In one part of his life, he'd done just that.

  “You know,” she began, her brows scrunching together, “my father had this dream for me. He wanted people to see a magnificent building or structure and know, ‘that’s a Madison Blakeley design.’” Determination shone in the brilliance of her eyes, though there were flecks of self-doubt mixed in. “But it wasn’t just his dream for me. It’s my dream, too. And not only for the prestige but because this world is an amazing, inspiring place. I want my designs to reflect its grace.”