by E. H. Lyon
And I should be. I have worked hard re-designing the place yet ensuring the old customers stay happy. I’ve added healthy and vegan options to the menu, experimented with different baked goods, created a following on social media to build hype around the menu. And even I cannot be modest at how popular weekend breakfast is at the place.
But my mind is somewhere else this week. Preoccupied with someone else. My face must show it as Jess looks to me with understanding.
“Jake?” she asks with her forehead furrowing.
As I nod a slow yes, and Jess gives me a knowing smile.
“What’s the deal? The way you two looked at one another the other night at Matchbox, I thought for sure you would have left together to, well…” Jess grins as she tips the wine bottle upside down above her glass to get the last drop.
I’m amused. “You mean have amazing sex that leaves me ruined for all other men?” I offer as I lean against my arm that is propped against the back of the sofa.
“Something tells me you have some good memories tucked in your head.”
Licking my lips, I admit, “I do. Really, I do. I mean, sex with Jake was wow. We had incredible sexual chemistry.” I get a little lost in my mini confession.
“Okay. You’re single and he’s single, so why not, you know? It’s what I did, and I ended up with a husband,” Jess grins.
The idea of Jake as my husband sends an aching feeling between my legs that first stops at my heart.
“We have a lot to talk about. At first, I was in so much shock to see him again that my brain couldn’t process. But I don’t need more time, and that is why I am here waiting to have drinks with Jake. And I hope I can find restraint; I mean, it has been a while for me. That attraction is still there, for sure—or least I think it is—and he has this way of just taking the lead, so yeah, I don’t trust myself around him in that way. But I don’t know how to be around him, because we did end, and maybe that’s the way it was supposed to be.” I take a sip of my wine.
“Sex then talking after is not an option?” Jess grins.
I shrug, “I am trying to use my brain.”
“Can I ask why you two didn’t work out?” Jess innocently asks as she turns her wine glass by the stem.
Pausing, I tap the bottom of my glass. “You know, that topic is for another day. Just, we started out as sex only, really good sex, and it turned into more. We were together only a summer, but even so, I had a glimpse of a future with him. The timing wasn’t right, and plans changed. Can I ask what it was like for you to reconnect with someone after time apart?” Because if memory serves me right, she did not see Leo for quite some time.
Jess smiles to herself and leans her head to the side. “Well, it’s complicated. We have a child together, so we were always bound to reconnect. If I could hit replay, I would have been open about my feelings from the moment we laid eyes on each other again. In case you didn’t notice, I am definitely team reconnect-and-see-what-happens.”
“I think I am too, but that’s not my decision to make, and I’m not sure he would want to, or if I can be what he needs,” I confess.
I wonder what reconnecting with Jake will be like. Will it feel like we haven’t had a five-year pause? Because I still dream about those nights with him, lying in his arms. I’m not sure we can be only friends. It’s too complicated.
No matter the scenario that is destined for us, I still struggle with the fact that I walked away.
“Come on, Ave. Join team reconnect and have amazing make up sex.” Jess smiles as she nudges my arm.
“Okay, you are convincing,” I deadpan with a soft smile.
“That may be good because I think they have arrived.” Jess gives me a funny look as her head indicates to the door.
Turning my head to follow her line of sight, I see that Jake has arrived with Leo. He didn’t notice me as they quickly go to the bar. Jake is still as striking as I remember, even out of a suit, in dark blue jeans and a forest-green button-down shirt. His watch on show from his partially rolled sleeves.
“Ready for this?” Jess asks sincerely and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
Taking a breath, I look up, knowing very well his eyes will be waiting for mine.
Chapter Eight
Avery: 5 years ago
“That was a good set, but the Vic always has good shows,” Jake explains as we get off the elevator to his place after arriving back from a concert.
“Definitely a good night, and I think I know how to make it better,” I tell him as he unlocks his door.
“Oh yeah?” His interest is piqued. I nod with a grin.
As soon as we get into his place, I yank his arm and drag him with me to the kitchen. I throw some music on the Bluetooth and grab a plate of brownies from the fridge—because I’ve taken over his fridge. I’m spending a lot of time with him lately. Yet still, every time we see each other, it is exhilarating.
“Your night just got better,” I say slowly and give him a peck on the lips with my hands cradling his face before quickly pulling away to grab two glasses for the chilled mezcal with lemonade in the fridge. My body moves to the music on the speakers, hips swaying side to side as I twirl on the balls of my feet. I bring the bottle to the plate of brownies on the counter.
Jake is standing there, leaning against the counter watching me, taking in the view.
“My night did just get better it seems. You’re in a good mood. Kind of playful.”
“I am happy… and playful,” I confess, handing him a glass of mezcal and a brownie.
When he lets out a satisfying moan from the decadent chocolate brownie he bites into, it makes me laugh. “I’m getting deeply concerned that my baking makes you moan more than me.”
He places the brownie and drink on the counter, then his arms quickly circle around my waist and he pulls me close and tight to his body. “Can’t lie, it’s a competition. But you do something on a whole different level,” he growls into my neck.
I pinch his stomach, so he steps away and lets out a curse.
Taking a sip from my drink and going back to dancing, I begin to dance bigger movements around the kitchen and into the living room. He is following me, and I know he isn’t a dancer, but I admire that he keeps smiling and stays near.
In my zone, I continue to dance and sway to the music with drink in hand.
“I’m crazy about you.”
I stop in my tracks to look at him, and his face is dead serious. My face goes back to neutral as I set my drink down.
Quickly, I glide a step forward trying to close our distance. I stop my huge grin from spreading across my face that would make me struggle to speak. “I’m absolutely crazy about you too.”
His face turns to a look that would make the sun feel inadequate. “Come here,” he demands, and I take the step closer.
As soon as we touch, his mouth engulfs mine in a firm, passionate, and claiming kiss. When we pull back to breathe, he turns me around to face away from him, and an inferno spreads between us quickly. He pushes me against the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. Taking my hands, he places them above my head against the glass, and then his hands grip my hips. In one jerk, he pulls my hips close to him. Every movement has a purpose. My back arches down and I’m in a 90-degree angle when his mouth comes to my ear.
“So incredibly crazy about you,” he hisses through his teeth as one hand goes up my dress, and the other cups my covered breast.
“Show me,” I beg, breathless.
And he does.
All I had to do was knock on his door after work, say it was the weekend, and he had me wrapped around him in record time, with my summer dress hiked up on my waist as he set me on the kitchen counter.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” My voice is ragged as we both move vigorously.
“I know. You told me, because you have a dirty mouth,” he breathes into my ear. Because I may have sent him a dirty text during the day… or three.
“Really? My not-so-innocent texts are the problem? You’re the one who filmed what we did last night,” I tease him as we both pick up our pace. I have no limits with Jake, and that’s a first.
“You loved every second of it,” he groans into my ear as we both begin to fall down the rollercoaster together.
Soon we are both seeing stars and support each other as we come down from our elevated bliss.
As he is still inside me and we are both still recovering, it slips off his lips so easily and casually. “I’m taking you to dinner,” he states, and it comes out sweet. Jake does not mean a casual dinner between friends who are sleeping together. His eyes tell me it’s the kind of dinner that women dream of with someone they enjoy.
At first, I’m taken aback, but when the guy who makes your head spin is inside you, having just made you come, you are defenseless. And I break a rule.
“Okay.” It comes out floaty as there is an internal smile happening in my body.
Then we kiss a simple confirmation kiss that makes us both grin like two giddy teenagers.
Half an hour later, we are walking to dinner hand in hand because our electricity just draws us to do it. But I can’t help letting my mind go to where it has been a lot recently. What is happening with us? Why do stars feel like they’re shooting, and no one exists in this city of 2.5 million people except me and him? How is it that I feel like I know every little thing about him? The way he takes his watch off, the way he chews a pen when he’s working… How he has a protective streak that makes him drape an arm around me anytime someone passes near me. The way he holds me tenderly until I fall asleep. I cannot get enough of him. All my boundaries have been crossed… and I’m enjoying the other side.
“Still no openings at your company’s branch in Chicago for after your project?” he asks, as I mentioned it before.
“No. A shame, really.” I don’t like what I’m saying and the look on his face tells me he doesn’t either.
“Right,” he responds distantly.
There is an awkward silence, but then abruptly his hand cups the back of my neck and he pulls me to his mouth. A needy and possessive kiss, which I gladly give back. Almost as if we are trying to forget the fact that our agreement has an expiration date.
Pulling away, we both have a weakened smile, knowing this will all come to an end at some point.
“We are breaking a few rules, aren’t we?” I continue to walk but let my eyes sideline to Jake, my face full of anticipation.
“You mean Cubs games, dinners, and romantic walks?” he shoots out knowingly as if he predicted my words.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“We ventured beyond sex only, but is it breaking a rule if the clients are both in agreement?” he asks, looking at me as we stop walking. My face turns away as I want to hide my delight.
“I’m leaving by the end of the summer,” I remind him.
“I’m still a workaholic,” he tries to assure me.
“So what do we do?” I drag out.
“We have a good summer enjoying each other, being together?” he offers with a slightly hitched voice and a shrug, his hand in one pocket, suit jacket hanging over a shoulder by a finger on the other hand. It’s as if he’s afraid of my answer, which crosses the line to swoon-worthy, as this man does not do anything but confident.
“Sounds fun, but complicated,” I admit.
These are dangerous waters, and I’m not sure I have a life vest for this. But I can’t turn away, I don’t want to. I will learn to swim better.
“Could be. You can also walk away now, ending our original idea of fun,” he prompts me, and I can see on his face that he’s hoping that I say no way.
We begin to walk again.
He holds my arm tighter and I lean my head against his shoulder when I say, “I should walk away, but I don’t want to. Let’s have a good summer.”
His body relaxes, as does mine. He kisses my hair as he pulls me. “Maybe we’ll get a sign that it can be more, maybe not,” he mentions softly. I kiss his inner wrist that hangs around my shoulder as I break away from his hold and entwine our hands.
That line is full of hope that maybe we both see this as more than a fling. Because I feel something for him, and by the way his body responds to my touch, it tells me he feels something too. I cannot get enough of him. He makes me go senseless, makes me smile, holds me, warms me, cares for me, makes me laugh—and not just that, but I want to do all of that to him. Maybe it’s love, maybe it’s lust. It has me thinking crazy ideas as in ‘you want to try long-distance until I have a new job in Chicago’ kind of crazy.
But I say nothing, and we continue to walk as I take in his philosophy.
Because the problem with signs is they push you in directions you least expect.
Chapter Nine
Avery
My mind breaks away from the memory when Jess nudges my arm as Leo and Jake approach us.
“Hope you don’t mind if I steal my wife away, seems we need to go home to the sitter… who is sick.” Leo has a wry smile on his face.
I know they’re ditching us so Jake and I can be alone. “No problem at all,” I reply.
“Why don’t you two finish the bottle of wine?” Jess offers a bit shakily as she slides up and off the sofa to join her husband. Indicating her head towards Jake and giving me bulging eyes.
Leo slaps a hand on Jake’s shoulder as he walks away. “We’ll finish going over the contract another time,” he says faintly with a knowing grin.
Jake’s gaze does not leave me, but he nods slightly to Leo in amusement of their play.
“They were subtle,” he notes with one hand in his pocket, and I have to smile. Jake scratches his upper lip with his thumb. “Still okay for drinks alone with—”
Quickly and without hesitation, I interrupt and reach up to grab his arm. “The wine bottle is actually finished. Jess’s doing, not mine, I swear. But do you want another drink?”
He instantly nods yes, sliding next to me on the sofa, checking me out in the process, and it is not just my imagination. He leans in and kisses my cheek innocently. Offering me the chance to inhale his scent, which may just be some magic potion he brewed up.
“Hi.” He has a sexy smile as he pulls away.
I look at him, and I am sure my eyes are twinkling. “Hi.”
This is not going to be easy.
“Tonight, I just want to hear how you’ve been the last few years.” I am honest and make it clear that talking about our ending does not seem right in this moment.
“And I want to hear the same from you.” He gives me that charming smile where I can see his dimples. He indicates for the waiter to come take our order and we order a whiskey neat for him and a gin and tonic for me.
“Did Nate’s supplier help you out?”
I appreciate his effort to break the ice. “I haven’t called yet. I’ll do it tomorrow. What brought you to Matchbox on a weekday? Shouldn’t you be slaying someone in a courtroom or something? Oh wait, sorry, I shouldn’t ask. Client confidentiality and all.”
He laughs, “Slaying in courtrooms? Is that the image you still have of me? And true, I can’t talk about my clients. But I can tell you what I’m up to. I decided to invest into the Matchbox brand.” He is studying me for my response.
A sound of surprise escapes me. “Investing in an alcohol brand? You?” There is disbelief in my voice, because this guy works too much to have time for anything but work and sex.
Slanting a shoulder, the corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah, why not? It’s fun and I like the idea behind it. In ten years, I will be the cool uncle to my niece; the uncle that partially owns a brand of alcohol.”
A laugh escapes me, and I nod my approval. “Well, this is a surprise, and it sounds kind of awesome. Seems you are broadening your horizons outside of legal documents.”
“My life is a little different since I moved from Chicago, true. Having my own law practice also means I have more flexibility for thi
s kind of stuff.”
After getting our drinks, he tells me how he decided he wanted a slower pace of life. Working in a big firm had cost a lot of hours of personal time and he wanted to be closer to his family. How passing the state bar in Colorado went faster than he expected. How he goes for trail runs nearby and always tries carrot cake if it’s on the menu somewhere, because I got him hooked.
Nudging him slightly in the thigh with mine, I enlighten him. “I’m surprised you’re not married yet. I mean, mid-thirties is hitting your peak,” I tease and let my eyes widen in amusement as my finger circles the rim of my glass.
“I mean, I dated, maybe a lot. Nothing serious and nothing lately, but I didn’t find anyone with the same spark.”
Does he mean the same spark as me? My heart jumps.
“I get it. I tried to date in the last few years, but there was always something missing. Couldn’t be open with them. Not like with you. You know all my secrets,” I remark before taking a sip of my drink then suddenly stop mid-sip as I realize what I just said. Slowly, I let my glass return to the table and my eyes look up at him. He nods with his eyes piercing me with understanding.
The moment between us is heavy and this could go many ways. But he smiles and brings us back to neutral territory, the way he could always so easily do.
“And how did you end up with Smokey Java’s?”
“I was really done with my job in marketing. I had buried myself in work after, well—”
“You were done with it when you were in Chicago already,” he interrupts as he pushes up his sleeves. I appreciate that we moved past my little blip.
“Yeah, true, and then Abby mentioned this bakery near her was going on the market. I had a peek at it when I was visiting family. After living in San Francisco where everything is extortionate in price, the costs saved by moving here was ideal, and it got me far enough so that I didn’t need a business loan, and I used my marketing skills. I also had to promise the previous owners to keep the ridiculous name when they retired. C’est la vie,” I explain proudly, and it seems to make him smile. I take a sip of my drink.
