Love Ignited

by Jacie Lennon

  16

  Mason

  I head outside to call Ezra as soon as our meeting is over. I’m a little confused but mostly angry that neither Jules nor I have been told the whole truth. I don’t know what games he and Hanna are playing, but it’s messing with my sanity. I knew that Jules had moved back but not that she accepted the management position from my dad. It seems like even Dad is keeping secrets from me. Now that I have to work with her hot and cold ass, no matter how fine of an ass it is, I have whiplash, trying to decipher her moods.

  “Hey,” Ezra answers, out of breath on the last ring.

  “Hey,” I say gruffly, hoping he gets that I’m not in the mood for any bullshit. “What are you doing?” I ask and then think better of it. I’m not sure I want to know why he’s out of breath. “Don’t answer that. Why didn’t you let me know that Jules had accepted a job for my dad?” I try hard not to yell the last part. How hard would it be for anyone to keep me in the loop? Yes, I had talked to Ezra about Jules being hired a long time ago, but I didn’t know that it was actually going to happen. You would think that someone would let the general contractor know these things. I didn’t know she was going to be at the meeting today.

  “Ah … that.”

  “Yes, that. Are you playing a game? Trying to see how far you can push me before I lose my mind?”

  “No—”

  “It’s working. I’m losing my mind. I can’t work with her. She creates a hostile work environment.”

  And a fucking sexy work environment.

  Maybe that’s what I’m protesting right now. She makes it hard to focus on anything that’s not the curves of her body.

  The phone rustles in my ear, and Hanna’s voice comes blaring through.

  “Don’t you ruin this for her, Mason. She needs this job right now.”

  “I’m not ruining anything for her. She still has a job. I would just absolutely love it if you wouldn’t keep me in the dark about these things.”

  “She didn’t know you are the GC, but we left it up to your dad to tell her,” I hear Hanna say.

  “Maybe you should have just told her. Jules was so upset; she got sick. Is that what you enjoy doing to your friends? Making them sick?”

  Hanna abruptly stops laughing. “No. Oh my God, is she okay? I’ve got to go. I’m calling her.”

  A thump sounds across the line before Ezra picks the phone back up.

  “Hey, sorry. We didn’t mean anything by it. She knew everything else about the job. We just didn’t exactly know how you two would work together so we told Nick to tell her. I guess he waited until the last moment, too.” Ezra says, sounding contrite.

  “Look, I appreciate that you and Hanna are trying to help her in some weird, twisted way. But we sort of have a history, and it’s making things awkward.”

  I call it history, but is it?

  Does one fucking hot encounter in the back of my truck amid a week of animosity count as history?

  “History?” Ezra asks.

  Fuck. I guess Jules didn’t tell Hanna.

  “Just forget it.” I run a hand through my hair, tugging lightly at the strands on the nape of my neck while letting out a groan.

  “No, no. I’m very interested in this history that you and Jules share since she was only here a week and there was limited opportunity, considering y’all hated each other.”

  “Look, it’s complicated …”

  “It always is,” Ezra says with a laugh. “Now, back to your history.”

  He’s not going to let it go. Since Jules already hates me, I might as well give her some more fuel for the fire.

  “We had sex at the holiday party … in the backseat of my truck.”

  The line is silent for a moment before Ezra breaks out in laughter.

  “You what?” he asks between guffaws.

  I wait for him to stop before continuing, “You heard me, and don’t tell Hanna.”

  “I can’t promise you that. You are in so much trouble,” he says, still laughing.

  I roll my eyes and let out a sigh. Behind me, the door flies open, and Jules steps out, rubbing her hand against her forehead where there is a sheen of sweat. She hasn’t seen me, so I stay still where I am against the wall and observe her. She doesn’t look good. Her pale skin looks stark against her dark brown hair, and her shoulders slump as she walks to her car. I debate telling her good-bye, but something holds me back. She steps into her car, shutting the door and feeling around for her seat belt. Looking up, her deep brown eyes connect with mine, and she freezes. I lift one hand in a wave, and she nods, fluttering her fingers before she finishes fastening her seat belt.

  “You still there?” Ezra’s voice comes into focus, pulling me from the trance I was in.

  “Uh … yeah, I am.” I clear my throat, my eyes pinned on the back of Jules’s car as she pulls out of the parking lot.

  I have so many warring emotions floating around that I don’t know which one to latch on to. Part of me wants to tell Jules how silly this animosity between us is, and the other part tells me not to mess up and admit feelings. That will only lead down a road that I don’t want to travel.

  “Listen, I have to go. Don’t tell Hanna.” I end the call and lean my head back against the wall.

  I’m in deep shit.

  I walk back inside, greeting some of the employees who have worked for Dad since he opened the bistro three years ago. He’s a great boss, and it shows in the way his employees love working for him. He’s come a long way since I was a child when he and my mom chased the next high. Whether it was drugs, alcohol, or some bullshit. I still hold some anger over being left, but every experience is a learning experience, and I learned that my grams is the shit, and I don’t want kids. I don’t want the opportunity to fuck them up like I was. Yeah, Dad turned his life around and came back to me, but I can’t say there’s not a small part of me that’s still fucked up over it. I have to live with the fact that I wasn’t important enough for him to change for a few years. I wasn’t important enough for my mom—or egg donor—to come back to.

  No child needs to feel that way, and that’s why I don’t want any kids. I don’t want to mess another person up.

  I shake my head to clear my self-deprecating thoughts and head back to the office to grab the coffee shop plans. Dad’s on a call when I open the door, and I slip into one of the chairs as he holds up a finger, letting me know he will be just a minute. I pull the papers onto my lap and scan them.

  Damn, she made some good changes.

  I would never admit it to her, but since she has the experience, I know that it will be a good thing to have her on the team.

  “So … that went well.” Dad’s tone is heavy on the sarcasm. prompting a grin from me.

  “Yeah, fantastic. I make her sick.”

  Dad laughs and nods to what I’m holding. “What do you think?”

  “They look good. When are you wanting to start?”

  “ASAP. I think the longer we hold off, the longer I’m losing out on money I could be making.”

  I pull out my phone and check my schedule at the station. “Okay, I’ll call Tim and see if he can get timelines in from our guys on materials and labor. We should be able to start within the week though,” I say, looking up.

  Dad has a smile on his face.

  “What?”

  “Can’t a guy smile for no reason?”

  “No, it’s weird.” I shake my head, standing. I send Tim a quick text, telling him to call me and work out a schedule, before looking at Dad again. I hesitate to ask, but curiosity wins out. “Have you heard from Mom again?”

  Dad’s smile dissipates, leaving a frown in its place. “She’s left a few voice mails, but I haven’t called her back. I have nothing to say to her. It’s not me she has to win over,” he says, leaning forward and clasping his hands on the desk.

  “I said I didn’t want to talk to her, but I’ve given it some thought, and maybe I should. Maybe whatever she has to say is something I n
eed to hear and will help me have some closure over the anger I’ve carried around.” I stare at Dad, hoping he has the answers but knowing that it’s a decision I’m going to have to come to myself.

  “Here,” Dad says as he pulls a notepad from his desk drawer. He scribbles something and hands it to me. “Her number, if you decide to talk to her.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I tilt my head at him, nothing else to say.

  “Um, I wasn’t going to say anything since you didn’t want to talk to her, but I thought you might want to know now. Your mom remarried about five years after she left us. You were around eight. She had another kid around a year later. You have a brother, and he’s, oh, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Graduating high school this year, I believe.”

  Staring at Dad’s face, I see the sympathy roll across it, and I’m angry. I’m upset that this is happening to me. I’m fucking twenty-seven years old and just now finding out that I have a sibling. One that my mom actually mothered at that.

  I pick up the plans and turn. My hand in a fist, I slightly tap it against the wall. And by slightly tap, I mean, I put a big fucking hole in the wall. Dad doesn’t move as I stand there, my forehead resting next to the hole I just made as I breathe in and out heavily. I thought I was over the hurt and anger I’d felt toward my mother. She doesn’t deserve any of my time or my forgiveness.

  I reach over and open the door. Walking out, I shut it behind me without another glance back. My phone rings, and I look down at Tim’s name on the screen. I press Ignore.

  I’m drowning. I can’t get air in my lungs, and I know I sound like a gasping fish as I walk out of the bistro. One of the waitresses calls my name as I’m leaving, trying to reach for my arm but I snatch it back. I’ve got to get out of here. I jump in my truck and drive with no real clue as to where I’m going.

  17

  Jules

  As soon as I walk in the door, Hanna is there, and I gasp, pushing my hand into my chest and taking a step back.

  “How did you get into my apartment?” I hiss at her.

  “I got you this apartment, remember? Spare key.” She holds up her hand, twirling the key around her index finger.

  “I would love if you let me know when you are here instead of me walking in and having the shit scared out of me.” I narrow my eyes at her, and she just smiles.

  “Mason told Ezra you were sick, so I brought over some supplies and just wanted to check on you in general.”

  “Mason has a big mouth. I’m fine. Not sick,” I say, sighing and sinking into a chair at the table. I reach up to rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on.

  “Mason also had something else interesting to say,” Hanna says.

  I freeze.

  Surely, he didn’t say anything …

  “I thought we were friends, Jules, and I had to hear from Ezra that you and Mason did the dirty. First, what were you thinking? Second, how was it? I want all the details.” She grabs another chair, pulling it out and sitting down across from me.

  “Mason has a really big mouth,” I say with a groan. I’ve been trying hard to forget about our little rendezvous, and it’s not working. “God, I don’t know what I was thinking. I was hoping to just get it out of my system and chalk it up to not having any in a long time. We have some weird sexual tension going on, and I thought maybe if we did it, the tension would go away. Plus, I didn’t plan on coming back at the time. Now, here we are.” I fold over and put my head in my arms, sighing.

  “Well?” Hanna prompts.

  I look up. “Well, what?” I ask, trying to play dumb.

  “How was it? Great, good, awful? Is he big, medium, little? How’s it hanging? Down and to the right? I. Need. Details, woman.”

  I groan again. “It was good. Really good … too good. I can’t stop thinking about it, and now, thanks to you and Ezra, I have to work with the man.” I glare at her.

  “Oops,” she says with a grin, her cheeks turning pink.

  “Yeah, oops. Thanks for leaving out that small detail.”

  “Well, at the time, I didn’t know y’all had bumped uglies. Just thought we would have to overcome the mutual dislike.”

  “I thought you didn’t like Mason?”

  “I like Mason fine as a person but maybe not as a boyfriend. I just didn’t want him to hurt you, and I thought since you were enemies, I didn’t have to worry about anything.”

  “Hold that thought,” I say, standing abruptly. I try to walk to the bathroom but end up slapping my hand over my mouth and jogging, barely making it before round two of sickness washes over me. I rest my head in my hands as I sit beside the toilet.

  This is a nasty bug.

  I grab a washcloth from the cabinet and wet it, running it over my face and neck, and then rinse my mouth with water. I just want to lie down and sleep for a hundred years.

  “Jules?” Hanna knocks softly on the door before twisting the knob and slightly pushing it open. “Hey, you okay?” A frown pulls the corners of her mouth down.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Just have a bug or something,” I say before folding the washcloth on the side of the sink. “Did you pick up anything to sip on?”

  “Got you some ginger ale and Gatorade,” she says before walking back to the kitchen with purpose.

  A minute later once I’m seated at the table, she slides a fizzy drink to me and I gratefully take a small sip.

  “Have you been feeling bad long?” she asks, her brows drawing together.

  “No, only nauseous for a few days, but today is the first time I’ve gotten sick.” I shrug a shoulder. “I feel fine now, just tired. I’m sure it’s just a bug.”

  “Do you know anyone else who’s sick?” Hanna asks, cocking her head to the side and staring at me before her eyes grow wide. “Oh my God.”

  “What?”

  “Julia Marigold Fairchild.”

  “Yes, Mom?” I say sarcastically.

  “Are you pregnant?” Hanna leans forward and jabs a finger at me.

  I grab her finger and push it out of my face. “No, Mom, I’m not,” I say, rolling my eyes. “My period is due in—” I grab my phone and pull up the app I track my cycle with. “Oh fuck.”

  “What does oh fuck mean, Jules? Speak,” Hanna demands.

  “I was due five days ago, and I didn’t realize it. I’ve been crazy with taking care of things back home and the move. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

  I can’t suck in air quick enough. I feel sick again. I lean forward with a groan and put my head between my legs. Hanna jumps up and grabs the washcloth from the bathroom. She lays it on the back of my neck before rubbing small circles across my shoulders and down my back.

  “It’s okay, just breathe. It could be nothing.” She tries to console me.

  “It could be nothing? Really? I’m five days late, and now, I’m sick. God, I’m an idiot. The biggest fucking idiot.” I sit up and take another sip of my drink, trying to calm the storm that’s raging in my stomach and my mind.

  “Okay, I’m going to run to the store down the street and grab a test. Sit tight,” Hanna says, leaning forward to grab her purse. She walks to the door before whirling and grabbing the crackers from the kitchen. “Here, eat some of these while I’m gone.”

  I grab the pack of crackers and sit there numbly. I don’t move the whole time she’s gone, not even to open the food in front of me. I jump when she pushes the door open, but I’m not sure why. I knew she was coming back, but I’m in a dreamlike state. I don’t want to know, but I need to know. I’m not ready for this—a child or to be a mother. I barely have my life together as it is.

  Hanna’s rambling as she opens the plastic sack, several different boxes spilling out on the table. “This one is digital, so no confusing lines.”

  She hands me a blue box, and I stare at it.

  “I don’t want to,” I whisper.

  “Not doing it isn’t going to make it go away,” Hanna says back.

  I hate her right now. I pull against the table to stan
d and grab the box. I’m in a fog as I head to the bathroom and take the test. I set it on the sink, not daring to look at it. I convince myself it’s negative as I walk out to where Hanna is waiting.

  “Well?” she asks, raising her brows.

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’m being dramatic, but I think this situation warrants a little drama. My stomach is roiling again, and the drink I was sipping on threatens to make an appearance.

  “I haven’t looked at it. I can’t look at it,” I whisper.

  “Want me to check it?” Hanna asks.

  “No, just give me a second.” I walk back in the bathroom and shut the door, my heart in my throat.

  With shaking hands, I lift the test, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I peek open and glance down.

  Pregnant.

  Fuck.

  Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Fuck,” I say out loud.

  Hanna swings the door open. She peers around my shoulder, and I can hear her suck in a deep breath. We don’t move for a moment.

  “Damn, I’m sorry, Jules,” Hanna murmurs.

  I can’t help it. I bend over as a laugh pours out of me. I can’t catch my breath as I continue to giggle. Laughing so that I don’t burst into tears doesn’t work as I feel the wetness start to coat my cheeks.

  I’ve officially lost it.

  “What do I do now?” I ask her as soon as I can speak again.

  The whole time I was laughing while crying, Hanna just stood there, in support but most definitely thinking I had gone off the deep end.

  “We should call my OB/GYN and get you an appointment. They probably won’t see you until you are around eight weeks unless you have any issues before then.”

  I nod, hearing her but now registering that I am pregnant.

  “I love my doctor; you will too,” she says as she pulls out her phone and sends me the number to her clinic.

  “Should I take another test to be sure?” I ask her.