A Heart's Design

by Natalee Cooper

  While she flipped their sandwiches, Jase looked over his choices. He started with the club soda and raspberry cocktail then debated between three of the syrups. Unable to decide, he grabbed the last two and tipped the thick syrup in, guessing at the amount. He gave it a good swirl and set it down. “Done.”

  “Switch with me. You can get these on plates.” She handed him the spatula. “No peeking yourself.”

  He saluted, spatula and all. When she announced she was finished a moment later, he’d barely slid the last sandwich onto the plate. “Something tells me I’m going to lose.”

  She grabbed the drinks while he picked up the dishes and followed her to the table. Instead of taking the seat opposite hers, he pulled out the one to her left, not wanting any more space between them than necessary.

  She held up her glass. “Cheers.”

  He followed suit, a thrill lifting one corner of his mouth as their glasses clinked, then waited for her to take a sip.

  Her lashes were dark against her smooth skin as her eyes closed. “Mm. Raspberry colada with a splash of mint.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed.”

  She opened her eyes and fist-pumped the air with an unrepentant smirk. “Don’t worry. I took it easy on you.”

  Eating up her playfulness, he held his glass to his lips and took a small sip. Then, narrowing his eyes, he took a longer one. “This is good.”

  “But you’re supposed to guess the flavor,” she reminded him.

  She laughed when he swirled the glass and took a good sniff. “Hmm, pineapple and…something?”

  “I think I’ll let you work it out while I eat.”

  “How’d you do that?” Jase pointed to her glass.

  “What? It’s easy.”

  He folded his arms. “Show off.”

  Madison’s shoulders shook as she pulled the two halves of her sandwich apart, strings of white cheese stretching between them.

  He spied his own plate and the green peeking out from the golden, crisped bread, and wrinkled his nose.

  “It tastes better if you eat it instead of stare at it.”

  Her expression after taking her first big bite was like a sigh of pleasure, and Jase gave his sandwich another look. “I’ll make you a deal. If this grilled cheese is as amazing as you say it is, you tell me your flavored soda decoding secrets.” He nodded to her half-empty glass.

  Wiping a crumb from the corner of her mouth, she lifted her glass for another drink. “Deal.”

  The temptation to lean in and taste the raspberry and mint on her lips almost overpowered him, but he behaved. For reasons not fully understood, he needed to take this slow. That meant keeping things light between them tonight.

  So, instead of stealing a kiss, he made a show of separating his sandwich halves. “I can’t believe I’m eating a plant with my cheeser.”

  “Your what?”

  His sandwich was halfway to his mouth when he paused from taking his first bite. “Cheeser. That’s what my brother and I called them. Grilled cheesers.”

  “O-o-o-k-a-y.” She drew out every letter.

  He fidgeted with the stem of his glass. “It started when we were like three and five. It stuck.”

  A soft, understanding smile touched her lips, and Jase dropped his attention to the table as his mind replayed days of family dinners on a table like hers. Where the wood was scratched in a few places, and the chairs wobbled a bit. If he closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough, he could probably feel Sam kicking him under the table…

  “I really do promise it won’t bite back.”

  Shaking off the flashbacks and emotions, he bit into his sandwich.

  “So? What do you think?”

  Jase chewed slowly to annoy her but then ate the entire half in three bites, the flavors melding perfectly in his mouth.

  “Fine. You win.” He didn’t even try to hide his surprise. “This is fantastic.”

  “Ha. Told you. Never doubt me.”

  “Okay, now spill it. How’d you guess the flavor?” Giving his glass another swirl, he took a long drink. “You know, I don’t think it’s pineapple. Mango?”

  She finished off her sandwich and pushed the plate back. “It’s my dad’s fault. He loved flavored sodas.” The napkin she’d had across her lap was set next to her plate. “Every Monday night since I can remember, we’d go out for sodas on the pier. When I was about nine, we started this game. There was only one rule. The server got to surprise us. Whoever guessed their flavors first, won.”

  Between her words and the expression on her face, he could picture it clearly. The salty, tangy air, the constant noise of the lapping waves below. A young Madison sitting next to her father, her feet dangling from a tall stool. “Who usually won?”

  “Do you have to ask?”

  He laughed, the deep sound echoing through the kitchen. “Maybe tonight was a lucky guess.”

  “Or not.”

  Jase held up his glass, his drink the color of liquid sunshine. “I give up.”

  A huge grin brightened her face. “You got the first one. Its mango almond.”

  He scrunched his nose against the combination. “That doesn’t sound right.”

  “Kinda like grilled cheese with basil?”

  “Touché.” Snatching her soda, he took a sip. “I didn’t do too badly on yours, but I think I like mine better.”

  In one move, she stole his glass and drained it. “Me, too.”

  “You don’t play fair, do you?”

  More of her laughter spilled out, a sound he was certain he’d never tire of hearing.

  Stacking their plates, he stood to take them to the sink, but she stopped him.

  “Leave it.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  Madison took his hand and led him away from the table. “I insist.”

  Jase let her win, only because the clock on her stove read past nine, and the later the hour got, the weaker he’d be. “You still haven’t told me about all this artwork.” He tipped his head toward the frames on the wall and kept his tone teasing, but his intrigue was completely genuine.

  “I’m so embarrassed. I promise I’m not some weird narcissist.”

  Jase felt as much as heard her soft laughter, and like earlier in the kitchen, he put his arms around her, loving the warmth from her blush as it seeped through his T-shirt.

  “I did have my own place for a while but moved back home when dad got sick. I haven’t had the heart to take anything down. My dad loved, I mean loved, to brag about my art…or anything, really. I think there’s a framed spelling test of mine somewhere in his office.”

  Her fingers traced the back of his hand, and he wondered if she knew she was doing it.

  “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  “Right. Because your place is filled with kid art.”

  “My place is lame.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  He turned her toward the mantel and gestured to the scroll of paper in the jar of sand. “So, what’s the story behind this?”

  “That…”

  Her shoulders rose as she took a deep breath, and he hoped he hadn’t pried.

  “It’s a wish.”

  “Like, genie in a bottle sort of wish?”

  She dug her elbow into his ribs. “No. It’s my wish. It’s another one of my dad’s things.”

  “Tell me.” He rested his chin on her shoulder, making his own wish that he wouldn’t screw this up, wouldn’t hurt her.

  “The first day hospice came, they went over what to expect and set us up with some equipment. It wore my dad out and he fell asleep. Or, so I’d thought. He caught me crying on the edge of his bed, my face buried in my hands. A huge mess.

  “Anyway, he patted my arm and asked me to grab a pen and a piece of paper. So, I did. He told me to write down the thing I wanted very most in life. My one wish. He told me if I focused on that one wish, I’d be able to get through the hard days we both knew were coming.”

  Everything seemed to stil
l as she shared her story, and he hung on each word.

  “A dozen times I started to write that I wanted more time with my dad, but I couldn’t. He was so sick, so weak. He was ready to be with my mom again. So, I wrote something else. I wrote the next best thing.”

  She stepped out of his arms and took down the jar. Reaching inside, she carefully pulled out the rolled-up paper then set the jar back in its place. With a steady hand, she unrolled it and held it out to him.

  He started to shake his head, but Madison nodded for him to take it. Not nearly as steady as her, he spread the paper and read the five little words written there.

  A family of my own.

  Jase’s throat thickened, and he pressed his teeth together, like that alone could clear the emotion, but it drummed down into his bones, painful and deep, and he dipped his head so she wouldn’t see the way those words affected him.

  “That paper is a part of why I haven’t changed anything here.” She took a sober look around the room. “This is the home I grew up in, and I guess…I’m not ready to let that go.” Taking the paper, she rerolled it and placed it back in the jar. “It’s probably childish, but, yeah… Bet you’re glad you asked about that one.”

  She laughed it off, but pink touched her cheeks. He started to tell her he would spend all night listening to her talk and tell stories, but instead, took her hand and led her to the back door.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To sit in your outdoor spot you told me about.”

  Her fingers tightened around his, and he kept her close as they walked out onto her porch. Several potted plants lined the half-circle slab of stamped concrete, and off to one side was a wooden swing with large, oversized cushions. His mind conjured up visions of her escaping out here on a Sunday to read with her hot chocolate, and he made a mental note to have her include a built-in swing on his deck.

  Jase pulled her down to sit beside him, not letting go of her hand. “You’re right. This is the perfect spot.”

  “Everybody needs one.”

  She brought her knees up, her feet resting on the edge of the seat, letting him slowly rock them back and forth. For several minutes they sat like that, simply enjoying the cool night and distant stars.

  Her skin was warm beneath his touch as he traced the lines in her open palm. “I love that. The wish in the bottle. The soda tradition with your dad. Thank you for trusting those memories with me.” Words were hard to articulate with all of the thoughts unraveling in his head. “It’s been a long time since someone has allowed me to be close—since I’ve wanted to be close. Not that I don’t care, or I’m heartless, just…”

  “I get it.” Her voice was quiet as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “It’s easier keeping everyone at a distance when you feel like you’ve already…felt too much.”

  “Yeah.”

  But as the beautiful architect nestled further into him, laced her fingers through his, feeling more didn’t hurt so much. Instead, Madison had him wanting long drives up the coast with her riding shotgun, and sunrises over the water. He wanted Monday nights on the pier, sipping Italian sodas, and walks in downtown San Diego with tickets to the Old Theatre—where it would be her on his arm in the papers the following day. He wanted Penny’s brag book filled with no one but her by his side.

  He slowed the swing, no longer pushing his feet against the ground as more wants took shape, wants with a much different backdrop. Hot country summers on the ranch, golden autumns riding horseback across his land, and snowy winters with hot chocolate where the media couldn’t get to them.

  A quiet laugh fell like a breath as he realized where his mind had taken him.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Just thinking,” he said.

  “About?”

  He tightened his hold on her. “Stuff.”

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re terrible.”

  Her laughter spurred Jase’s own, but his humor faded as he glanced to the windows of her home, their warm glow encasing a thousand memories. From the pictures on the walls to the scuffed table and her wish on the mantel.

  A family of my own.

  Swallowing, he looked down to the girl cuddled up beside him. His mind harbored no doubts of her courage and strength, but he knew how uneven the ground could feel after losing someone, how vulnerability outlined every shadow, and his palms began to sweat with Eric’s warning loud in his head about not hurting her.

  His pulse deafened his ears, and he massaged his temple with his free hand as if the action could squeeze out the noise, but his head only crowded with images of Dustin and the pain he’d caused his friends when he’d broken apart and ran.

  Except, I’m not nineteen anymore. I’m not going to run again.

  “You okay?”

  “Better than okay.” The reply came a beat too quick, and she scrunched up her forehead, making him laugh. And with that one simple release, the bulk of his worry eased. “I’m sitting out under the stars with you snuggled up next to me. Trust me. I am better than okay.”

  She glanced up toward the blanket of sky above them. “It is a pretty great view.”

  There was no argument over who had the better view as he looked down at her dark lashes and full, incredibly kissable lips, but instead of pointing out that truth, he told her something he’d meant to tell her for days now. “Penny said to thank you for joining the restoration. You nailed the design for the lobby. She teared up when I told her about your idea.”

  “I think your assistant might be my new favorite person. In all seriousness, though, I know it added more work.”

  “It’ll be worth it.”

  “Simon’s proposal is pretty fantastic as well.”

  There was sincerity in her words, but it was obvious she’d had to force the compliment out, and he grinned. “True, but it was missing something. Which I didn’t know until Penny mentioned a memory of hers from the theatre’s glory days. And then it became pretty clear we needed someone from the outside to point out what exactly that was. Someone who could find the missing piece.”

  “I do like a great mystery.”

  Her clear, carefree laughter was refreshing, and he soaked it in. Trailing his fingers up her arm, they brushed the scar above her elbow, and he drew his lips downward. “I’m truly sorry for this.”

  The apology was waved away. “Adds character.”

  Jase framed her face with his hand, and she stilled. He slipped his fingers through her hair to the back of her head, tilting her face toward his. She seemed to hold her breath as a familiar spark danced between them. He shut his eyes against the attraction, repeating the rules of the night in his head, but he couldn’t stop the groan from deep in his throat.

  “I need to let you go.”

  “Right. Probably a good idea.”

  “Probably, yes,” he repeated but held her another few seconds before pulling her up with him. “About your car…”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have Sarah or Eric take me to get it in the morning on the way to the office.”

  “You sure?” More guilt lodged in his gut.

  “One hundred percent. Sarah’s not too far from me.”

  “That doesn’t make me look very chivalrous.”

  Madison squeezed his hand before letting go. “You can make up for it next time.”

  Anticipation and promise replaced some of his guilt. “Deal.”

  Refusing his second offer to help clean up, she walked him to the door.

  “So…” He cupped the back of his neck. “We’re doing this?”

  She leaned her head against the door jam. “I think we are.”

  Her hair shone under the light as he tucked several strands behind her ear. “I’m headed out of town in the morning to take care of some business, but I’ll be back Sunday night. Can I see you then?”

  “Like, a second date?”

  A forgotten thrill spiked his pulse
, one he hadn’t experienced since his youth. Only this time, the reaction was definitely flavored more to his adult tastes. “Yes, please.”

  “I’d like that. A lot,” she said.

  “Me, too.”

  In her bare feet and T-shirt, and the way her fingertips were shoved into her denim pockets, it was all he could do to pick up his duffel and sling it over his shoulder. But he froze when she pushed up on her toes and leaned in. Only, instead of tasting his lips like he’d expected, her breath teased that sensitive spot next to his ear as she placed a soft, lingering kiss there.

  “First date rules, remember?” she whispered.

  He groaned again but let her push him back a step and open the door. Then he retraced every inch and pushed his fingers into her hair, kissing her once, then twice, pouring everything into a moment he couldn’t express in simple English.

  When he pulled away, his lungs had to work for air. “Sorry. Never have been one for rules.”

  Her laughter melted over him like sweet honey as he stepped off her porch and walked to his truck. Tossing his bag into the backseat, he hopped up inside and started the engine. He shifted into reverse but didn’t let off the brake. Not even when she waved and shut the door.

  He shot a glance at the passenger seat, where she’d sat not hours before. She’d opened up and shared everything. He’d stroked her hair, held her hand…all of his actions telling her things would be fine. And it would be.

  I’m not nineteen anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jase stood on the Henrys' porch and knocked again. The house was still and quiet. Being around dinnertime, he’d expected to find William home.

  He tapped the manila envelope Penny had prepared for him against his leg, deciding what to do. Driving straight over from the airport, his plan was to give William the papers right away, but it looked like that would have to wait for later.

  Turning to step off the porch for his rental, he ran right into flannel and Wranglers.

  “Whoa. Sorry, man,” Dustin said, but trailed off when recognition hit.

  Jase rubbed his chin, not forgetting their last encounter. “Dustin.” A crease appeared between his friend’s brows, and he got right to the point. “Is your dad around?”