Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

  “Of course.” Her voice wavered with the effort not to cry. “Of course, it’s available. You’re my only family left, Jules. Anything I can do to help.”

  Relief and hope bloomed in my chest.

  Why couldn’t my mother be like this? Why couldn’t she be happy I wanted to pursue my dream?

  “Thank you.” I kicked off my heels, watching them tumble across the carpet just like the rest of this life that I was determined to shed. “What time should I come down?”

  “Why don’t you stop by anytime tomorrow so we can go over logistics and do a bit of training with Eve, and then, on Monday, we open at seven.”

  “Okay. What should I wear?”

  She laughed. “Well, you’re going to be on your feet, so probably no heels.”

  I glanced over to the pair that looked like they’d been slain, lying lifeless on my floor. “No heels…”

  “I would suggest sneakers, if you have any. And then, especially in the beginning, coffee grounds and milk will somehow find a way beneath your apron, so maybe dark jeans. But I’ll give you a bunch of Roasters t-shirts to wear, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Great,” I said even though I didn’t own any dark jeans. Yet. “Thanks again, Laurel.”

  “Jules.” She paused. “Have you told your parents?”

  Her question stopped me and lit a small spark in my chest—one where I had to say something even if it was only so that I could hear it.

  “I know you don’t like them, much less agree with the choices they’ve made for my life; I can’t say I agree with them either,” I told her resolutely. “But they didn’t make those choices to hurt me; they did what they thought was best even if it was all wrong.”

  “I know. I just worry, that’s all.” My cousin’s voice was full of heart.

  “No matter how much what they’ve done in the past has hurt me, I’m not pursuing my dream to hurt them. I’m pursuing my dream because not doing so is hurting me,” I confessed.

  “It isn’t easy to let down people you love in order to not hold yourself back. I just want you to know I’m here if you need anything.” Laurel spoke from her own experience, and I admired her for that.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. “And, to answer your question, I mentioned a few things to them and it didn’t go over quite like I expected, with my dad at least, but they have a lot going on at the resort right now. So, I’m going to wait until everything is more concrete with what I’m doing and where I’m going.” I paused. “This way I can break their hearts with one fell swoop.”

  “Oh Jules.” Laurel sighed. “If they love you, they will find a way to support you through their disappointment.”

  “I hope so.” A little voice whispered that I had high hopes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  I’d taken the passenger seat in my own life for too long. And now that I was making life-changing choices, I couldn’t listen to fear and worry, backseat drivers who would try to alter my course.

  Sitting down at the vanity next to my closet, I stared at myself in the gilded mirror. My makeup was still flawless. My hair still sitting perfectly wrapped back behind my head and tucked up into an unobtrusive bun. The one-carat diamond earrings glistening from my ears matched my pendant necklace and the diamond-crusted bracelet.

  Strange how shackles could shimmer and sparkle so beautifully.

  I looked every bit the part of the princess my mother wanted me to be and every inch the picture of a woman I didn’t recognize.

  Dipping my chin, I reached for the clasp on my necklace.

  Most people had it wrong; being a princess didn’t automatically make you the heroine in the fairy tale. You became the heroine by being strong, by fighting for what you believed in. By doing what was right, not what was easy.

  For a long time, I’d only been the princess.

  I unhooked the glittering jewels and nestled them back in the navy velvet tufts of my jewelry box. Reaching around, I unpinned my hair, tugging and shaking the thick brown locks until they fell in uneven waves down my back. Then, the face in the mirror began to resemble the woman I wanted to be.

  Today, I’d spoken of my dreams in nothing but a whisper. It was a small start. But aren’t they all?

  Maybe tomorrow, I’d be able to speak them normally in conversation, without worry or guilt. And one day, I knew I’d be able to scream them loud, fighting with every breath to make them come true. I was working toward that day—the day I became the heroine in my own fairy tale and left the paralyzed princess behind.

  Jules

  “Hey, Eve, could you show me your trick to clean the hopper again? I can’t seem to—” I broke off, freezing mid-turn from the espresso machine as my eyes snagged in Mick’s clear blue one. Warmth rushed through my veins and my heart did a little skip.

  He was the last person I expected to see walk through the door. After being completely absent all week, I resigned myself to the belief he was going to avoid me forever because of that kiss.

  “Hi.” I swallowed, my pulse thumping steadily all the way up in my throat.

  “Mornin’, Jules.” His chin dipped and he pulled his baseball cap off his head, a lock of blonde hair escaping to graze his forehead.

  I couldn’t stop my eyes from scanning down his body as far as the counter would let me see.

  His Madison Construction tee stretched tightly over his chest underneath a tan Carhartt jacket. The fabric loosened about midway down his torso and caught on the waist of his jeans. I gulped as heat flooded between my thighs. He was definitely dressed for a job—dressed to get dirty—and for some reason, that made my body so hot and fluttery.

  I was always surrounded with perfect. But it was this man’s perfectly imperfect that I found irresistible.

  “So, you’re workin’ here now?” he approached and asked. “Man… up in Monterey for a few days for a job and this is what I miss.”

  Monterey. For a job.

  “It’s to help with school.” I nodded, a tiny spring of hope bursting that maybe he hadn’t been avoiding me. “What can I get you?”

  He cleared his throat. “Just a black coffee. No cream or sugar.”

  “Nice and simple.” I smiled.

  Lucky for me, otherwise I would’ve had to ask Eve for help—and what would mean missing out on moments spent just with Mick.

  “It’s the simple things in life that make the biggest difference,” he insisted quietly from behind me, and I felt his eyes follow me over to the pourover coffee machine. “How are you feelin’?”

  I wanted to tell him I felt unsettled after our kiss. That I had this ache that wouldn’t go away

  “Good,” I tossed over my shoulder. “The headaches are getting less. I still… don’t quite remember what happened, but I feel closer to it, if that makes any sense.”

  There was a brief shadow over his eyes before he replied with relief, “Glad to hear that.”

  “For here or to go?” I glanced over my shoulder.

  “To go, please,” he replied. “How’s everythin’ at Rock Beach?”

  The mention of what felt like my other life always made my insides twist. “Good,” I told him. “After what you said, I’ve been more aware of my… role… there. The people I talk to. The conversations we have.”

  “And?” he prompted with a boyish grin.

  “You were right,” I admitted freely, my smile blossoming.

  Mick’s eyes danced, his happiness brought on by my own. “I don’t mind bein’ right if it means you’re goin’ after your dreams.”

  I flushed, feeling that same tug I had the other night right before he kissed me, but before I could even thank him, Mick cleared his throat and asked, “Is there a lot goin’ on at the resort? Any new faces hangin’ around?”

  My head gave a little shake, surprised by the turn in questioning. Maybe he’d felt that tug, too, and now, he w
as trying to avoid it.

  “Not more than the usual,” I told him, measuring out the fresh grinds onto the scale before pouring them into the funnel of the coffee maker. “My parents do most of their business meetings heading into winter since it’s our slower season. And we have the annual Snow Ball coming up in two weeks, so things will pick up a little for that.”

  He nodded silently as though it wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear.

  “So, Gwen’s kitchen is on pause?” I asked, changing the subject and keeping my back to him. I didn’t want him to see how eager I was to know when he’d be back around regularly like before.

  “I’ll be headin’ over there next week to get things movin’ along before that woman kills me.” His chuckle sent goose bumps down my spine. “Miles and I are finishin’ up that house near Monterey, but we should be done by Friday.”

  I swallowed down my disappointment. I was hoping since he was here, it meant he’d be around Gwen’s later so we could talk. Next week was too far away. The ache in my stomach wouldn’t wait that long.

  Glancing to the right, I made sure Eve was still in the back.

  “About the other night,” I began, reaching for the extra bag of to-go cups that sat on the shelf above the coffee machine, teetering on my tiptoes and using the movement to hide my nervousness.

  Suddenly, a much larger and much longer arm reached in front of me, easily gripping around the bag and brought it down.

  His gaze captured mine as my fingers brushed his to take the cups from him. Air sank into my lungs and my skin came to life like dry wood against a spark. Instantly alight and burning.

  “Thank you,” I murmured.

  He grunted, desire and restraint warring over his features. He couldn’t seem to step away but wouldn’t let himself step closer. And I wanted him to step closer.

  “I’m sorry, Jules,” he rasped, the usual smooth honey of his voice grated rough with despair. “I shouldn’t’ve kissed you like that. With everythin’ you got goin’ on, I didn’t mean for you to think that’s what I want… or why I brought you…”

  My pulse hammered.

  “Please, don’t apologize. That’s not what I meant.” Drawing a steadying breath, I faced him. “I just…” My voice dropped to something hardly above a whisper as I held his gaze. “Why did you stop?”

  Mick appeared taken aback by my question; it was heartwarming to see such a big man appear so flustered by a simple question. But I couldn’t blame him. I was, too.

  The air between us was charged with a life of its own.

  I wiped my palms on the sides of my apron, my heart beating up into my throat, desperate for what came next.

  It was the simple things in life that made the biggest difference.

  And wanting Mick was simple, yet it would change everything.

  “Jules?”

  My head snapped to the hallway. Eve’s voice, followed by some commotion in the back, broke the moment.

  Mick cleared his throat and stepped away, placing the counter back between us.

  Biting my lip, I ducked my head as heat flooded my cheeks.

  I tugged a to-go mug from the package and focused on the pourover funnel. Placing the cup beneath it, I poured hot water over the fresh grounds, the dark brew spilling down the spout and into the cup.

  I felt like the coffee in the funnel, new things—choices, people, experiences—washed over me like the hottest water, pulling out of me the kind of person I wanted to be.

  And the water of this moment felt scalding, but I knew it would make me stronger.

  He stood with his hands clasped on the counter, his mouth drawn tight, holding back words until he was certain they were the right ones to say.

  Setting his coffee in front of him, the question tumbled out again, searching for solace in his answer. “Why did you stop, Mick?” My tongue dragged over my lips, bringing with it more of the potent truth this moment pulled out of me. “I didn’t want you to stop.”

  “Damn, Jules—” He broke off with a tortured groan.

  It was a strange sound to hear coming from such a large man—one who would be difficult for anyone to harm, but not me. With simple words, it sounded as though I’d just knocked him to his knees.

  “I just… don’t want to take advantage of you, darlin’,” he conceded, his jaw tensing. “Plus, I’m not…” He sighed and shook his head, running a rough hand through his hair. “I’m a carpenter, Jules. And I’m damn proud of that, proud of what I’ve done. But what you have—not sayin’ it’s what you need, just sayin’—” he broke off with a muffled curse. “I’m blunderin’ this all up. I’m just tryin’ to do what’s best for you.”

  “Oh.” My heart plummeted into my stomach.

  My whole life was a contradiction. I was a princess, but in life, in love, I was poor. And Mick Madison? He completed those contradictions. He made me feel safe, but also strong on my own. He treated me honestly but looked at me like there was still something to hide. And when he touched me… well, he did it like he needed me, but then spoke like wanting me was a mistake.

  But it didn’t feel like a mistake. For either of us.

  He sighed. “I’m probably not sayin’ the right things in the right way. You’re a strong woman, Jules Vandelsen, and I see you doin’ a lot of good things for yourself. Don’t want to get in the way of that, and I’m afraid I didn’t do a great job of keepin’ myself in check the other night.” His mouth quirked up on the right side and gave me a glimpse of that dimple I still wanted to lick. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, darlin’. Just want to make sure you’re doin what’s right for you.”

  I stood there gaping at him as he dropped a few dollars on the counter, grabbed his cup, and muttered goodbye, the door ding signaling his retreat.

  What I had… I shuddered. He thought what I had made me too good for him. I could see it plain as day in the honest lines of his face. And this was his gentlemanly way of excusing himself from a fight where he didn’t think he deserved the prize.

  He thought I deserved more.

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  His sense of honor overwhelmed me and, at the same time, infuriated me; I was the only one who got to decide what was or wasn’t good enough.

  With a groan, I began to unpack the bag of cups I’d just opened and fill the shelf underneath the register.

  Just when I thought I was finding my voice, I seemed to lose it again.

  “You okay, Jules?”

  Eve appeared through the hall from the back, giving me a questioning look from behind her glasses.

  I’d only really spent some time with Eve over the last week, learning and working at Roasters, but she was the kind of person who made it easy to feel like you’d been friends forever. And when you hadn’t had friends—good ones—for a long time, it was easy for good, kind people to quickly fill those opens spots in my life.

  Warm and bubbly, Eve Williams wore her heart on her sleeve like a giant, proud patch. She’d told me all about her life with her older, twin siblings, Addison and Zeke. How they’d been raised by their grandmother. How their family dynamic evolved over time. What sparked the idea for the Blooms house. How she knew she wanted to become a yoga instructor.

  No topic was off limits.

  Eve’s forthcoming personality was only further encouragement for mine to open up. Between her and Laurel and, of course, Gwen, I felt more areas of my life beginning to round out, in addition to the not-so-simple pursuit of my dream.

  “Of course. Just peachy.” I nodded enthusiastically.

  She propped her hip against the counter and stared at me, knowingly. “So, then what’s going on with you and Mick?”

  Heat rushed into my cheeks and my teeth clamped down on my lower lip for a moment. Just like I could still smell the coffee in the air, I could still feel his closeness and the effect it had on my body.

  “I-I don’t know. I mean, I guess nothing.”

  “Nothing?” she probed. I swore those la
rge glasses of hers had a strong enough prescription to see right through me. “It didn’t look like nothing when you guys went out onto the patio at the Lookout to talk the other night.”

  My cheeks burned fire-engine red—which was just as loud of a warning siren that something had happened.

  “And definitely didn’t look like ‘nothing’ when you came back inside,” she added, biting down on her lower lip though it didn’t stop her spreading smile.

  My shoulders dropped and I let out a long sigh. “He kissed me—we kissed,” I told her, feeling a fleeting sense of relief to talk to someone about it.

  Her eyes bugged. “What! Oh, Jules. That’s amaz—” she cut herself off. “Wait, how do you feel about it?”

  There was a long pause, though I had the answer to her question even before she finished asking.

  “I feel like I want him to do it again,” I confessed.

  She crossed her arms and giggled at my response. “And he doesn’t want to?” She shook her head. “He can’t not want to.”

  My eyes fell. “He doesn’t want to get in the way of what I want.” I sighed. “And he thinks I’m too good for him.”

  “Sounds like Mick,” she mused wryly. “He’s just trying to be a good guy. He’s always trying to be a good guy… I think to compensate for Miles.” Her eyes dropped at the mention of his brother. “But sometimes, I think he tries to be too good.”

  Like a lens clicking into place, my perception of the gorgeous giant became a little clearer.

  “How do I tell him he’s wrong?”

  Before she could answer, Laurel walked into the room, stopping short when she realized we were in the middle of a conversation.

  “Everything okay?”

  I huffed in frustration, Mick’s words finally starting to really sink in.

  “Do you think I’m not myself?” I demanded from her with no explanation.

  “What?” Wide blue eyes blinked at me.

  “Sorry,” I grumbled, folding my arms. “I meant since the kidnapping, do you think I’m not myself? Do you think my concussion messed up… what I want… who I am…”