Again With You

by E. H. Lyon

  My body tenses and everything sinks to the pit of my stomach. Pretty sure my heart is racing on the scale of a rocket going to Mars. Taking a deep breath, I do what any confident woman would do.

  Slowly tipping my head up as I am sitting, and he is standing over me like an incredible hulk in a fine-cut expensive suit.

  Because I know he is in a suit.

  This is not happening….

  But. It. Is.

  Our eyes meet like lightning striking. But really, this situation has the forecast of an incoming hurricane. Those same brown eyes. His brown eyes.

  We need no introduction.

  “It’s been a long time, Ave,” he greets me with a soft low voice that has a mix of surprise thrown in. Yet his face tells me he enjoys my shock.

  I look at him and he appears more filled-in across the arms and broad shoulders—has he been working out? But for the most part, he is still the same. Suit, chocolate-brown hair perfectly cut, brown eyes, and square jaw with a five o’clock shadow. Perfect height, slender body, strong arms, chiseled chest, sculpted back…

  My brain has a quick overload of every inch of him that was memorized and stored in the back of my head.

  My jaw must be dropping as my eyes join his for a different type of hello, one that nobody in the room would notice, but for us it is far too familiar.

  “This has to be a dream,” I mutter softly to myself.

  “So, I am still in your dreams?” His clever grin confirms that I was not quiet enough.

  “I guess you two know each other?” Lucas wonders as he looks between us oddly. But his face tells me he is playing along.

  Why, yes. Yes, we do. Your Jake is my Jake.

  This is a small world.

  “Jake,” I let it finally escape my mouth.

  There is a pause, but I realize Lucas is looking at us all too curiously.

  “Yeah, uhm, Jake is a friend of my brother’s, actually,” I try to explain while swallowing the lump in my throat and looking away from Jake’s gaze.

  That gaze that did things to me then and it seems to do things to me now too, because a wave of heat just went through me and is coiling at the internal walls of my center.

  A friend of my brother’s is true. But that is not all he is.

  We were a wildfire together, and then the universe gave us a sign that we should let the blaze burn, leaving us in ashes.

  “Yeah, right, a friend of your brother’s,” he echoes and gives me a neutral look. “It’s been what, five years?” His gaze pierces me with a superpower that scientists have yet to discover.

  “I will be right back. Forgot to get something for the cake,” I explain with a thrown-on closed-lip smile, and hightail it towards the general bar where it is busy and buzzing.

  I grab the bar with my hands as I have a mini internal meltdown and try to breathe deep breaths, indicating to Nate for a whiskey. My cousin Abby once tried to set me up on a date with the bar’s owner, Lucas’s brother, Nate. But a rugged ex-hockey player is not really my type.

  No. My type are guys who seem to get better with age and who reappear five years later.

  I need something strong for this.

  I can face him. I need to do this.

  Those eyes—oh God—those warm brown eyes. Something in me still aches from the last day I saw him, and equally something floats in my chest with possibility.

  Possibility? Why would I think that?

  Really need that drink now.

  Abby finds me and touches my back softly.

  “So, you know Jake Sutton?” Abby gently states more than asks, as she tucks her light brown hair to the side.

  I nod yes as I focus my gaze forward to watch Nate prepare my glass of whiskey like it is the challenge of the century.

  “How do you know him?” I ask, trying to put these puzzle pieces together of how he is here.

  “He went to graduate school with Lucas, and they’re friends. Jake also does some legal work for Leo and they’re friends. He doesn’t come that often to our friend dinners and brunches, but he does stop by occasionally. So, in case you haven’t gathered, he is everyone’s friend, and you will continue to collide with him at social gatherings,” she informs me with a weak smile.

  “How do you know him?” she adds.

  “He was a friend of Greg’s. They went to university—I mean, undergrad together,” I grab my glass of whiskey and drink it for dear life.

  “And something more?” Abby enquires, tenderly touching my shoulder, again hinting that I can’t fool her.

  I give her a slight nod in confirmation.

  “A lot more,” I exhale.

  I would tell her everything, but now is not the time. Abby is smart and picks up that this conversation requires a different setting, and she’ll no doubt ask about it again later.

  “How is it possible that I haven’t run into him yet?” I wonder. Sage Creek is not that big, but a just-big-enough town in Colorado that tourists flock to and where locals live in bliss. Everyone knows everyone. So how we missed this detail of living so close is a fact I cannot process.

  Abby shrugs. “I mean, he wasn’t at Lucas’s birthday party because he had that birthday party for his niece.”

  “And I wasn’t at your holiday party as I visited my brother.” Abby and I are listing all the times that would have made sense for me and Jake to cross paths, but we clearly didn’t. “Guess we were bound to run into one another eventually, and tonight is that night.”

  She gives me a loving smile that only relatives can give and then heads back towards the group.

  Taking another gulp of whiskey, I let the burn hit my throat. My face must be crooked from the aggressive gulp I just swallowed. After debating, I decide I should probably head back and face the music. But as I turn away from the bar, I do not get far.

  Jake—who must have casually undone the top two buttons of his sexy shirt—is slowing his pace as he approaches me.

  Our eyes meet for an intense standoff.

  They darken.

  “So, you need something strong too?” He tries to break the ice gently.

  Because this guy knows how to ease us into situations. Now, he is standing within touching distance of me and stealing my air.

  “Ave, I had no idea that you would be here.”

  I look away because my head has not decided yet how I should feel. “This is definitely a surprise,” I manage to say as I try to avoid his gaze.

  “Yeah, you made sure of that when you let five years get between us,” he replies directly with resentment in his voice.

  My eyes flick up to him because I am a little taken aback by his abruptness. But at the same time, I deserve it.

  He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a deep sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” he apologizes and continues, “but what are you doing here?” he asks, slightly shaking his head as if he needs to double-check that I am still in front of him.

  The bonus question of the night, clearly.

  My eyes cannot stop looking at the man in front of me. He was my man; we were supposed to be bound together forever.

  I realize that I need to answer him.

  “Moved here in the summer. I’m the new owner of Smokey Java’s, actually,” I explain and let my mouth take another decent swig of whiskey, so much so that the glass is empty.

  His lips curve slightly up. “You finally moved away from the advertising agency?” he says, intrigued, familiar with my past and maybe happy that something for me worked out.

  I nod barely.

  “…And you finally got your own practice, I take it?” I can’t help but show I am happy for him, with my mouth forming a smile.

  He nods at me with the same look. “I moved from Chicago about three years ago. My parents live an hour away. Still, how did we not cross paths yet?” We both look at each other, realizing our lives have changed. Yet, something stays in the air between us. A familiar ease floats between us like time has not
passed.

  There is a pause, but in that pause, I realize that this is the guy that once made my heart skip, my skin crawl, and my body melt. And all he had to do was give me that smile.

  But that was five years ago. Time brings change, people change. He could probably have a wife at home with 2.5 kids and a dog. Like he deserves. He is just trying to be polite and catch up.

  But wait, he does not have that hypothetical family. I know this because Lucas tried to set Jake and me up once. Something in me races, and it’s the kind of race that floods you with adrenaline. Enough adrenaline to help the whiskey give me that liquid courage I need to look into his eyes.

  And I do.

  “This is kind of crazy, right?” My words drag out as my eyelashes flutter and my eyes meet his. Maybe my face softens and my mouth slants slightly upwards too.

  His face cracks the same look too as he rubs his strong hand across his jaw and leans against the bar. Those hands…

  “It is. But running into each other randomly at a bar is not new for us. It happened once before.” He studies me then cocks his head slightly to the side. “Want another drink?”

  With him?

  One day, but not tonight.

  A drink with him requires a trip down memory lane, and even the upcoming tequila shots our group have planned cannot prepare me for that trip. I need time to adjust to the fact that this guy is living within a five-mile radius of me.

  “Really, I think we should head back in there. Someone mentioned something about a toast for the newlyweds or something.” I ignore his attempt to dive into deep conversation.

  He steps away from the bar and closer to me. Touching my arm as someone walks by to reach the bar. It makes me catch my breath. He must feel that electric wave that just passed through me, because truthfully, this man knows my body more than anyone. Those fingers are still dominating and leading, I can feel it with only his fingertips on my skin.

  “I didn’t think I would see you again,” I admit out of nowhere with my eyes peering up to his. There is pain in my voice, that I am sure of.

  “I know the feeling.”

  Jake lets his fingers graze up my arm. I’m in a short-sleeved dress, which means his fingertips caress my bare skin, making my body shiver gently and my nipples form taut buds.

  “Maybe we could have a whiskey together?” he asks again tenderly. His fingers have not stopped touching me and he stares at his fingers as if he is remembering how they once explored my every inch.

  My lips tug up in response. “You are still persistent.”

  “It’s you, Ave. I am not going to see you and then ignore you for the night. We could probably both use another drink. I mean, how the hell am I supposed to sleep tonight?”

  With me. Whoa, where did that thought come from? Filter it, Avery.

  “I’m asking myself the same question, but I think tonight isn’t the night for a reunion.”

  His fingers drop from my arm and already I want them back.

  A scoff escapes his mouth. “Reunion? Sure, if that’s what we want to call it.” He looks away from me, but then lets his head lazily spin back to my direction. “We need to talk.” It rolls out of his mouth.

  I turn my head away in slight sadness, but dammit, I know he’s right.

  “Are you free this weekend? For a coffee? Maybe we can talk a little?” he asks—no, he pleads innocently.

  My body is in flee mode. Because a talk? That would be the right thing to do. What we need to do. But that realization alone is making me need to remind myself to breathe.

  “This really is a surprise, and I am not sure how long my head will need before it stops spinning,” I respond simply, because as much as it is the right thing to do, to talk…

  The jury is still out on if I am strong enough to.

  Chapter Three

  Jake: 5 years ago

  My thumb scrolls through my work e-mails on my phone in one hand, and there’s a clean scotch firm in my other. I’m waiting at the bar in the upscale lounge where my colleagues normally go for a drink after work. The place has smooth dark oak yet modern furniture, and is the choice of many who work off Michigan Avenue in the Near North Side in Chicago.

  “You really crushed them in there. I’m sure by this time next year you’ll be a named partner,” Chris, my colleague tells me as he finishes his whiskey.

  I shrug it off, “Maybe.”

  “Shit, I wish I had your balls. You bill too many hours, which means you work all weekend, and it seems by the wandering eyes around this place that you can take home whomever you want,” Chris admires.

  A laugh escapes me. “Hey, man, you’re doing great. Your work on that deposition helped get us to where we needed to be today. Plus, you have a newborn, so I would certainly hope that you’re not working on the weekends.” I do my best to encourage him as my eyes roam the room.

  “Want another drink, Chris?” I ask, and he nods.

  Just then a woman cuts in front of me to speak to the bartender. She mumbles excuse me and I must do a double-take. She seems familiar. My brain does a flip through the catalogue of women stored in my head. It quickly figures it out as she does a double-take too.

  “Don’t I know you?” I ask with an amused grin.

  She looks at me, lets her brain catch up, and smiles. “Jake, right?”

  “Yeah. And you are Greg’s little sister, Avery.”

  “Small world,” she remarks with slight disbelief.

  Greg Lewis is an old buddy from college. During college we hung out, but since then, I only hear from him on an occasional basis. Last time I saw Avery she was at a party at Greg’s frat house. Why Greg thought bringing a barely-18-year-old girl looking like Avery was a good idea was beyond me. Avery was every guy’s fantasy and barely legal then, and something told me she was not as innocent as her brother thought.

  Geez, I’m getting old, because I am pushing towards the big 3-0, which makes Avery what, 24 now is my guess?

  “Your brother would kill me if I didn’t get you a drink and ask how you are. Want one?” I ask, giving her my best look.

  She seems to be letting her eyes assess me. “I was going to go actually, but why not?”

  Chris nudges me. “Sorry, man, I need to head out. The missus isn’t having a great night with the baby.”

  “Good luck with that,” I tell him, but my eyes don’t leave Avery. In no time, he’s gone, and I think I may be happy about that.

  Her blue eyes find me with her sweet-looking lips giving me a smile. Christ, she is a sight for sore eyes.

  And very legal now.

  “So, long time.” She’s rather chirpy as she takes her short black jacket off and throws it on the back of the barstool. Her fitted blue dress and black heels attached to her smooth and toned legs tell me she probably just came from work.

  “Yeah, a long time indeed. How are you?” I give her a reassuring smile and a quick side hug before she sits down. Ooh, she smells good. “What are you having?” I ask, sitting back down and indicating to the bartender to come and take her order. She asks for the same as me as if it’s her usual.

  “You’re a scotch drinker?” I crack out, skeptical. Her grin with her pink lip gloss is sexier than it should be.

  She nods yes like I asked a crazy question. “Actually, mezcal is my favorite lately, but that seems a little too festive for a casual Friday-night drink,” she smiles.

  “I guess you’re no longer a kid anymore,” I comment, taking a sip from my glass as my lips quirk.

  “For someone who knows the law, you missed the detail that I was very legal when I saw you last time.” Her head cocks a little to the right and her words roll playfully off her tongue. Maybe even dirtier than it should.

  Keep this professional, man, a favor for an old buddy.

  “You’re in town for work or did you move here? I guess last time I saw you, you were deciding on which college to attend,” I ask as I grab my phone and shoot out a text to Greg that I ran into his sister.


  “Yeah. That is true. It was a Halloween party when I last saw you, right? You left early to be a good student, I guess,” she reminisces. “Greg mentioned once you did extremely well with your LSATS then headed off to Yale for graduate school, so I guess it makes sense why parties weren’t your thing.”

  I hold a hand up. “Whoa, parties were my thing in college, you just caught me on an off day,” I protest with a slight grin and adjust my neck.

  “Fair enough. You met my brother in a library, though, right?” she counters with a coy look.

  “True. But if it is any consolation, I was on the lacrosse team in high school and not always into studying,” I joke.

  She squeezes my arm playfully. “Ooh, a lacrosse player? Well, isn’t that crazy and wild,” she retorts with sarcasm.

  I shake my head at her banter. “But enough about me. What did you end up studying?”

  She takes a sip of her scotch and pushes her glass in front of her. “I studied business, and to answer your original question, I am on a project here for the summer. I work for an advertising agency specializing in clients from the food and beverage industry. You’re a lawyer, right? Please tell me not a divorce lawyer or something boring like that.” A smile forms at the corner of her mouth and she seems genuinely interested.

  I like her energy.

  “Yeah, an attorney, actually, and made it to the dark side of corporate law. So, no divorces for me.” I scratch my jaw.

  Her hand touches my arm, and it ignites a slight zing in my body. “Well then, if I get arrested for public indecency, I know which lawyer not to call,” she jokes, and it makes me crack a grin. “I guess corporate law is a lot of mergers and acquisitions.”

  The way that spins off her tongue and the way her eyebrows move tell me her mind is definitely not innocent. Move swiftly on from that, Jake. Just do it.

  “Four months here is not exactly a short time. Your boyfriend must not like that.”

  Why did I just throw that in?

  She lets out a laugh. “No boyfriend, so not an issue.” Her eyes assess me. “Your girlfriend enjoys that you spend more time at the office than on her?” she blurts out with ease.