by Jacie Lennon
“Ezra said you told her you were babysitting her. That seems pretty insulting.” He laughs, raising his eyebrows.
“I did not tell her I was babysitting her.” I’m getting frustrated. “I let it slip that Ezra wanted me to entertain her. She took it to mean that it was a pity date and then got offended.”
“So, was it a pity date?”
“No. I mean, she just broke up with her fiancé, so I did feel bad for her, but I wanted to spend time with her. It started as helping a friend out, but once I saw her … I mean, you saw her too.”
“Yep,” he agrees, a small smile sneaking across his face, and I feel a pang of jealousy when I see it.
“Anyway, it wasn’t even a date in the first place. Just casual. But I don’t care how hot she is; you can’t fix crazy.” I give another shrug, trying to show how much I don’t care.
But I do care.
It was a shot to the ego, and for some reason, I haven’t been able to get her off my mind since last night. She challenged me, and not many women do. It was intriguing. Then, at the bistro, I very much enjoyed seeing her riled up. It lets me know she cares even if she doesn’t want to admit it. What confuses me is why I want her to care.
Is it an ego thing? Is it because I find myself thinking about how great her ass looked in those pants? I just want to turn my brain off. We agreed to not see each other again the night we met, and I think that is the right idea. I don’t need her getting inside my thoughts any more than she already is.
“Damn right. That’s why I don’t date,” Ben says.
And we fist-bump in solidarity before I lose myself in the sweat and burn of a good workout, shutting Jules out of my mind completely. I have more important things to think about.
8
Jules
“Hey, Jules,” Hanna says with a knock before pushing my door open. “Are you ready—oh no, what’s wrong?”
She comes to sit beside me, a hand rubbing my back in a comforting manner. I lean my head onto her shoulder with a sniffle. I know my face is red and puffy.
“I’ve just been feeling sorry for myself. I don’t want to think about the past, but I can’t help it.”
“You are allowed to be messed up for a while. That asshole stole part of your life, and that’s not something you can get over in a week or even a month even if you were the one to break it off … after you found out about him cheating.”
“I know,” I say, my chest aching.
“Do you? Because you can talk to me about it. I’ll even drive eight hours to kick his ass into next week if you want.”
“No. I don’t want him to know that he hurt me that badly. He shouldn’t get the satisfaction. I secretly hope that his new little flavor cheats on him, so he will get a dose of his own medicine.”
“I don’t secretly hope that,” Hanna says. “I just hope that right out in the open.”
I stare at her before we both break out in laughter.
“Come on. Let’s round up Livie and Luke,” I say, standing up. “No use in moping around. Let’s go to the park. Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Is this the one where you and Ezra first met?”
“Yes, I’ll show you the exact bench we sat on,” she says with a little twinkle in her eyes.
“Myra the matchmaker,” I say with a smile.
“I owe it all to her,” Hanna says, nodding.
I’ve heard the story so many times. Hanna was Livie’s nurse when Myra, Ezra’s mom, brought her to the hospital for a fall. They invited Hanna to the park after Livie took a liking to her. Myra came down with a cold and sent Ezra in her place. The rest is history.
“I told Ezra to drop off lunch. He’s bringing Nickoli’s Bistro.”
Hanna and I both lick our lips at the same time.
“I can’t believe that food that good is connected to Mason.” I frown as my stomach flips a little when I say his name.
“Well, he doesn’t own the bistro. So, that’s the silver lining.”
“Truth.” I hold my fist out, and Hanna bumps it with hers.
“I was impressed the other night with how you hadn’t lost your skills.” Hanna gives me a little nudge with her hip while she fastens Luke in the car seat. “Your flirting was on point … not that I’m encouraging anything, but at least you see there’re other fish out there.”
Through some soul-searching this last week, I know what Kyle and I had wasn’t love even though I thought it was at the time. It couldn’t have been for him to act the way he did toward me. It just took me getting out to see it. Yes, I’m upset by what happened, but I think that I’m more upset about losing part of my life to Kyle than I am about losing Kyle. He was overbearing and controlling, but I truly couldn’t see it until he cheated and I took a step back to analyze our relationship. But what I’m not confused about is how I feel about Mason. Definitely not love. More like loathing. This conversation hasn’t helped to raise my spirits.
“Hey, I think I might catch a ride back home with Ezra when he gets here with the food,” I say.
“Oh no, are you okay?” Hanna glances over at me.
“Yeah. I just need to make a few phone calls back home, and I’m afraid I’m not great company right now. Just feeling a little down.”
“Okay, I’ll have Ezra take you home. Maybe once you are done with your calls, you should get a nap? I can’t imagine how exhausted you are with everything you’ve been going through.” She reaches over to grab my hand and squeezes, a small, sympathetic smile on her face.
She pulls into the parking lot, and we get the kids out. I strap Luke into the stroller, bundling him into a blanket to ward off the brisk air, and follow Hanna and Livie as we walk to the playground area, sitting down on one of the wooden benches. Livie takes off, leaving us to sit on the bench, while Luke sleeps in the stroller. He’s the best baby I’ve ever been around. I’m not sure I’ve even heard him cry the entire time I’ve been at Hanna’s house. I feel a little pang of sadness when I realize that my rose-colored view of my immediate future won’t include a happy marriage and babies of my own.
“There’s Ezra,” Hanna says, glancing toward the parking lot.
I stand and follow her gaze. I feel all the blood drain from my face as I notice who is behind him. Mason and Ezra are in a heated discussion, far enough away that I can’t hear what’s being said.
“I wonder why Mason is with Ezra,” Hanna mutters from beside me.
I shrug and narrow my eyes at Ezra’s and Mason’s bickering forms.
The heat rushes back into my face when I remember what he said to me outside of the bistro. I haven’t told Hanna. I don’t want her to ask any questions when I don’t even know the answers to them. Part of me wants to continue our feud, and the other part wants to jump his bones—his sexy, fine-as-hell bones.
“Ezra knows about your fight. I’m not sure why he brought him.” Hanna’s forehead creases in confusion.
The guys come to a standstill, both of them staring at each other before Ezra breaks away and walks toward us.
“Hey,” he says with a smile, leaning in to peck Hanna on the lips.
“Hey, baby.” She gives him a longer kiss back. “Why is Mason with you?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.
“He was with me when you asked me to pick up lunch, couldn’t kick him out on the side of the road,” Ezra says with a grin.
I turn my gaze from them, and my eyes accidentally land back on Mason, who is smirking at me with his arms crossed. I glare back. I can’t let him know that he gets to me.
“Earth to Jules,” Hanna says, waving a hand in front of my face.
I jerk my eyes back to look at her, slightly widening them to look as innocent as possible. “Huh? What?” I ask.
I hear Ezra snicker behind Hanna, but I ignore him.
“Really, Ezra? Is he just going to loiter over there? He looks like a creeper at the park. Tell him to come over here,” Hanna says, rolling her eyes.
“Plus, he’s got one of the food bags.” I
point.
After Ezra waves at him, Mason walks over and sets his bag down on the bench.
“We brought turkey wraps, soup, and two cheesecakes with chocolate drizzle. Nick sent those,” Ezra says as he looks up at us. “He seems to have taken a liking to you two.”
“Can’t see why,” Mason says with an antagonizing grin.
Hanna and I both turn to glare at him.
“Ezra, would you mind dropping Jules at home on your way back to work?” Hanna asks.
We both look at him as his face drops.
“Oh. I was hoping we could eat with you two,” he tells her, and Hanna glances at me, chewing on her bottom lip.
“I can take her and come back here to pick you up,” Mason chimes in, and all three of us swing our heads around to stare at him. “What? I’m not one to stand in the way of love.” He shrugs while gesturing between Hanna and Ezra.
“Are you okay with that?” Hanna whispers to me as if the two guys couldn’t hear her.
“Yeah.”
No. I don’t know.
Ezra tosses Mason the keys, and he lifts his chin toward where the truck is parked. I follow him with my food, surprise flitting across my face when he stops to open the door for me to climb in. A strange feeling floats through my stomach, trying to chase away the loathing I’ve convinced myself to feel.
“Thanks,” I mumble right before he shuts the door.
We ride in silence for a moment, my thoughts all over the place as they bounce between my parents, the shop, Kyle, and now Mason. For someone who has always been sure, type A, and a planner, my life has become one big question.
“I can hear you thinking from here,” Mason says, breaking the awkward silence.
I swallow and unclench my fists, stretching my fingers across my jeans and rubbing slightly.
“Something wrong?”
I glance over at him, wondering if he truly cares or if he’s just trying to “bury the hatchet,” as he said before.
“Just thinking about how much my life has changed in a few weeks. I went from being engaged to someone I thought I loved to suffering through the worst breakup of my life and moving here for a week to be harassed by you.” I laugh despite the emotions tossing around inside my chest.
He’s silent for a moment, and I internally chastise myself for the word vomit I just had. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to tell him any of that.
What is it about this guy that infuriates me and makes me feel silly at the same time?
“Uh … do you want to talk about it?” he asks, and I watch his eyes dart over to me before looking back at the road.
“Being harassed by you? Yes, actually … are you like this with all your women?”
“All my women? And no, that’s not what I meant. Don’t change the subject. I meant, do you want to talk about the breakup?”
“Yes, I’ve heard about your wild nights,” I say, pointing a finger toward him while ignoring his question. I can’t believe I’m calling him out on this. Why does it even matter? I don’t like him.
“What wild nights have you heard about?” He clenches the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you do with other people … er, women,” I say nonchalantly.
Do I?
“Whatever you heard, it was probably blown out of proportion.”
“So, you didn’t sleep with two women on the same night?”
“Are you talking a threesome? Or back-to-back?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Is it funny?”
“It’s a little funny that you’ve been discussing my sex life since you proclaim not to like me.”
“I haven’t proclaimed that.”
“No? You’ve made it pretty clear with your glares and snarls and the steam coming out of your ears.” He motions toward my head.
“I think you are avoiding the question.” I widen my eyes for emphasis.
“What was the question again?” He feigns confusion and then laughs again.
I press my hand to my chest, breathing in and out. It’s like arguing with a toddler.
“Forget it,” I mutter.
“To answer your question, no, I did not have sex with two women in one night … threesome or otherwise. I’m a one-woman kind of man during my sexual experiences.”
“I don’t know why I asked. I don’t care,” I grumble, thankful when we turn onto Hanna’s street.
“If it’s the night I’m thinking of, I didn’t sleep with either of them. They were both wasted, and I took them home from a party. To their own homes. The guys assumed I had taken them back to my place, and … well, I never corrected them. I’m not sure why.”
“Probably your huge effin’ ego,” I say, turning my body toward him as we pull into the driveway.
“Yes, probably,” he agrees, surprising me. “So, did you want to talk about what’s going on with you? I highly doubt you have been agonizing over who I’ve slept with.”
“I haven’t,” I say almost too quickly, and he shoots me a look.
Busted. “Anyway, I’m okay. Just working through some things.”
“I don’t do relationships, so I might not have good advice, but I know your ex is probably regretting letting you go.”
My mouth drops open, and I can’t speak as I process his words.
Did he just say that?
“Did you just try to compliment me?”
“Uh … guess it didn’t work?” He shrugs and rubs his hands on his jeans.
“No, it was, um, nice.”
“I mean, don’t take it the wrong way. I’m not trying to date you. But I wouldn’t pass up a night with you.”
“And there he is,” I say, rolling my eyes. Good moment over. “In your dreams, buddy,” I say, throwing open the car door and grabbing my food.
“Damn right,” he says and gives me a wink.
I slam the door and stomp into the house, toting my take-out bag. I consider going straight to my room and passing out, but I know I need to call and check in on my parents and the shop. I stuff the food into the fridge and change into some comfy clothes and stretch out on the bed, pulling up my dad’s number.
“Hey, Dad. How’s it going?” I say as soon as he answers the phone.
I’ve enjoyed being with Hanna for the last few days, but I’m missing the shop and the familiarity of home. I’m thankful that my parents were able to step in for me. I immediately let my mind drift to the reason I left and why my parents are now at the shop, but I force the thoughts away. Thinking about him right now will not help matters.
“It’s wonderful. I’ve whipped this place into shape,” he says, making a whipping noise with his mouth.
I can see him sitting there, flinging his hand back and forth as he makes the sound.
“You haven’t made any changes, have you?” I ask, worried that when I come back, it will be completely different than how I left it. But now that I think about it, maybe it wouldn’t be bad. Maybe I need to change some things around, so it’s just not how Kyle and I created it together.
“Nope, just got the schedule worked out. Dealt with a few lazy employees who thought they didn’t need to be on time, and I even restocked the supply room. I didn’t know how much I missed having something to do during the day,” he says with a sigh.
My parents retired two years ago with plans to take their camper around the United States. Two months after retirement, my mother fell and broke her hand, and then my father had a mild stroke—a week apart from each other. That quickly put their plans on hold. Last year, once they were both better, they spent time touring America, and now, they are back home, going stir-crazy without something to do. It was perfect timing to have them take over the shop for this week.
I’ve toyed with the idea of making them a more permanent part of the shop. When I opened it, Kyle and I treated it like it was our baby. Our pride and joy that I had talked about for years and gotten him excited about. I foolishly though
t it would last with us, with our relationship. I didn’t know it would be the thing that tore us apart. Sometimes, I blame myself for being so immersed in the shop that I didn’t realize what was going on right in front of my face. Literally. She was my barista. A girl who had sat across the table from me and shaken my hand when I hired her. She had shaken my hand, and then she took my man. I lean my head back and pinch the bridge of my nose to stanch the tears welling up.
“Sounds like they are keeping you busy,” I say.
“Oh, yeah. Between that and your mom’s honey-do list, I’m staying pretty active,” he says with a laugh.
I smile, envisioning the list that Mom tapes to the fridge that seems to grow overnight.
“How’s Hanna?”
“She’s great. She told me to tell you hi when I talked to you again.”
“Have you heard from that asshat?”
“Kyle? No, I haven’t. I don’t expect to.”
“Right. Never did like him,” Dad says gruffly.
“Yes, well, you were right. Is that what you want to hear?” I say, a little exasperated that my parents keep bringing him up every time we talk.
“Not at all, baby girl. I never want to see you hurt. I just wish I could’ve protected you from this in the very beginning. You know, your mom and I saw a few red flags when you dated. He never did quite get the whole chivalry thing down—at least, not from my perspective.”
“I know, Dad. I can’t afford to waste my time on being angry over it anymore. Onward and upward, right?”
“That’s right, sweetie. But just know, if you are feeling down, I’m here to talk. And so is your mom. She wanted me to tell you that.”
“Thanks, Dad. And thanks, Mom,” I say with a smile. I know Dad has me on speakerphone since that’s the only way he talks on the phone.
“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Mom singsongs in the background.
“I love both of you, but I’m going to lie down for a nap.”
“Okay, baby girl. Love you,” Dad says and hangs up.
