Blindsided by Brooke

by Theresa Paolo

  “That’s kind of funny actually.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I’m on my way to see my grandfather.”

  There was a great deal of sayings about how you know a lot about a man by the way he treated animals or his parents, but Ella firmly believed a man’s true colors showed based on the relationship he had with not just his parents and siblings but his grandparents as well. The generation was so easily forgotten when life got in the way.

  “Are you two close?” she asked.

  He rubbed a hand under his chin, the corners of his eyes squinting slightly. “Not yet, but I hope one day we will be.”

  Ella’s eyebrow arched in genuine curiosity. It was in her nature; she just couldn’t help herself. He couldn’t just dangle a piece of meat in front of her and not expect her to attack, but she’d been trying to rein in her curiosities. Her older brother, Enzo, told her it made some people uncomfortable. She didn’t think that was her problem. If they didn’t want to talk about something then they shouldn’t present it in a way that left room for questions.

  She literally just met this guy, though, and they still had a bus ride home to get through. The last thing she wanted was to make either of them uncomfortable.

  “That’s a loaded response,” she finally said, unable to resist the urge.

  He smirked, which caused an unexpected dimple to appear in his right cheek. It was quite charming, and she tried not to stare at the adorable little indent.

  “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a gift, but it’s also a curse. Sometimes I can come across a bit intrusive, so please don’t feel like you have to appease me with a response… unless you want to.”

  His smirk bloomed into a full smile, and it was like watching the change in seasons—the peaceful calm of winter morphing into the bright blissful spring.

  “Why do I have a feeling if I don’t tell you it will eat at you this entire ride?”

  “I’ll just have to create my own scenario in my head, and it’s very possible you can turn out to be the villain in my story.”

  “The villain? That’s a bit harsh.”

  “Can’t control what my imagination comes up with.”

  He shifted in his chair, that cute dimple now staring right at her. “Now you know I can’t let myself become the villain.”

  “You prefer to be the hero of your story?”

  He shook his head, the dimple disappearing. “No hero.”

  She couldn’t help but notice the slight tinge of sadness that crept into those two words… nor the way his lips curved downward and how he broke eye contact, his gaze drifting toward the window.

  “So if you don’t want to be the villain or the hero then what do you want to be?”

  “Just a guy with a story.”

  “Okay then, guy with a story, hit me with it.”

  He laughed. “Your grandfather is right. You are nosy.”

  “You can’t say I didn’t warn you. Though, maybe in the future I should think about wearing a sign for emphasis.”

  “I bet someone would take your picture and post it on the internet.”

  She sucked in an exaggerated gasp. “I could go viral.” She slapped her hands against her chest and looked longingly at the ceiling. “Dreams can come true.”

  He laughed again, and it was a welcomed sound. He rummaged in his messenger bag and pulled out a small plastic bag.

  She pointed, unable to hide the massive smile on her face. “You did not just pull out a bag of black jelly beans.”

  “Go ahead,” he said. “Tell me how they are the worst jelly bean to ever exist, that no person could actually like them. I’ve heard it all.”

  Her mouth fell open, acting as if she was completely appalled by his words. “I was just going to say those are my favorite.”

  He glanced at her, eyebrow arched. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. Like I love them. My grandmother used to buy them for me every Easter, and my brothers would make fun of me, but she and I would sit down with the bag between us on the couch and watch Singin’ in the Rain. By the time the movie was over the bag would be empty. But my grandma always had a back-up bag for me to take home. She called them little beans of happiness.” Ella also knew they reminded her grandmother of anisette, her drink of choice.

  “She sounds like a great woman.”

  “She was,” Ella said as she fought the burn at the back of her eyes, the onslaught of emotions that crept up her throat. Pesky little things. She could never control them when she remembered her grandma.

  Ella waved her hands at her eyes and forced a massive smile on her face. “But we weren’t supposed to be talking about me,” she said.

  The gorgeous stranger held up the bag. “Have a bean of happiness.”

  This time the smile wasn’t forced, it was big and grateful. “Thank you.” She took a handful and leaned back in the chair as she popped one in her mouth. “Mmm,” she groaned as the licorice flavor mingled with her taste buds. “So good.”

  “I’ll keep the bag here,” he said, placing it between them.

  “Don’t think because I’m distracted by the goodness of these jelly beans I’ve forgotten you still have a story to tell.”

  “Definitely nosy.” He popped a jelly bean in his mouth. “Truth is, I didn’t even know I had a grandfather until six years ago. I thought he wanted nothing to do with me.”

  Ella’s eyebrow lifted on its own accord as she swung her gaze toward him. “How does that even happen?”

  “Before I was born, he and my father had a falling out. My dad up and moved with my mom across the country to California.”

  “Wow. I couldn’t imagine not knowing my grandparents. They helped shape who I am.”

  “My whole life I didn’t have grandparents. My mom’s parents died before I was born and then there was my grandfather. My dad told me my grandfather wanted nothing to do with me. I believed him, he was my dad, until I was twenty-one, home on spring break for a couple days, and found a stack of cards in my dad’s desk drawer. Birthday cards, Christmas cards, a couple Easter cards… all addressed to me, unopened.”

  “Your dad hid them from you?”

  “I was furious. My dad took my right away to a relationship with my only living grandparent because he couldn’t see past his own resentment.”

  “I’m guessing you eventually reached out to your grandfather?”

  “I did. Not right away, though.”

  “Why not?”

  “Honestly? I was afraid after never hearing back from me, he’d have written me off. Finally, I realized that if he sent cards every year for almost twenty-one years that had to have meant something. So I wrote him back and as they say the rest was history. Now six years after that, I’m going to stay with him for a couple weeks and help him out with his finances.”

  “Wow. Now that’s a story. One I think will have a happy ending.”

  “I hope so. I want to be able to have a relationship with my grandfather. It may not be like the one you have with yours, but something.”

  “You will. As long as you both want it, it’ll happen, and clearly that’s what he wanted all along. So what about your dad?”

  “Haven’t spoken to him in six years.”

  “That’s a shame,” Ella said, thinking of her own brothers. People made mistakes, they were only human, but if she learned anything, life was too short to hold a grudge. Things happened at rapid speed, and the opportunity to seek forgiveness was gone and all that was left was a big what if? Ella didn’t think it was worth it.

  Everybody deserved forgiveness, but when it came to her dad and her three brothers, they were as about forgiving as a brick wall.

  “He made his choice.”

  “Have you never made the wrong choice?” she asked. If she couldn’t change her brother’s stubborn ways, maybe she could at least help someone else.

  “Plenty of times, but I never took the choice away from someone else
.”

  “Do you ever think you could find it in your heart to forgive him?”

  “Only time knows the answer to that.”

  “Well, as someone who has watched what happens to a family when people are unwilling to forgive, I hope time is kind to you and yours.”

  “Now look who’s giving loaded responses,” he said as he ate another jelly bean. “Care to elaborate?”

  “No.”

  “Not even if you know it’s going to drive me crazy the entire rest of this bus ride?”

  “Still no, but nice try. Besides, I don’t even know your name.”

  “Lucas.”

  “Well Lucas, I’m Ella and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held out her palm, and when he wrapped his strong hand around hers, heat shot to her core, fireworks erupted along her arm, and every movie meet cute suddenly paled in comparison.

  Chapter 2

  After a long day of travel, Lucas never expected he’d be grateful for his diverted flight. He’d been ready to chuck his luggage in a dumpster at the airport but now as he shook Ella’s hand, holding on much longer than he probably should have—though she didn’t seem to mind—he was counting his lucky stars.

  Ella was beautiful, charming, and—more importantly—she liked black jelly beans. A woman after his own heart. He loved the way she’d spoken about her family and her grandparents; it was refreshing. He didn’t have siblings to make fun of him and because of his dad he didn’t have grandparents to spoil him. It had been just him and his parents but he couldn’t even really call them a family, not when his dad had cared more about closing his next deal than he did about them or how his mom had preferred to spend her weekends at the spa away from home and away from Lucas.

  Because of his dad’s dedication to work and success, Lucas grew up with everything he could ever want, but those material possessions could never fill the void in his heart. What he had always wanted were people who supported him without question and who loved him on days when he’d been impossible to be around.

  Maybe his parents had loved him in their own selfish way, and maybe Lucas was greedy, because it wasn’t enough. The shocking surprise about his grandfather had been the final nail in the already closed coffin. He’d gone back to school and never once looked back.

  He’d found family in friends as he slowly began to build a relationship with his grandfather. But being on the other side of the country made it difficult. So, now that his startup company was taking off and he had employees he could rely on, it was a no brainer when his grandfather called and asked him for help with the finances of his restaurant—a town staple that Joe started at the young age of twenty-two and had hoped his own son would take over one day. Lucas knew how that story went and only hoped he wouldn’t be as big of a disappointment as his father was.

  “You got quiet. You okay?” Ella asked. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  He laughed. He barely knew the girl but he knew enough. “Yes, you did.”

  “Okay, I did, but now I feel bad.”

  “Nothing to feel bad about. Just lost in thought for a moment there.” He picked up the bag of jelly beans and examined it. “Still have half a bag left.”

  She swiped it out of his hand. “Not for long.” She took a couple, popping one in her mouth with a satisfied smile before handing them back. “So tell me, Lucas, other than black jelly beans, what’s your favorite food?”

  “Easy. Tacos.”

  Ella’s hand froze halfway to her mouth. “You’re kidding?”

  “There are many things I kid about, but tacos aren’t one of them. Why what’s your favorite food?” he asked.

  She looked at him with sparkling wide eyes. “Tacos.”

  “Come on. You’re just saying that.”

  “You can call one of my best friends and ask them yourself. We have Taco Tuesday where we gorge ourselves with tacos and drink margaritas.”

  “Sounds like you know how to live.”

  “You only have one life, might as well make the best of it.”

  He looked at her beautiful dark brown eyes that he was sure brought many men to their knees. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said.

  “Do you have any traditions with your friends? Assuming you have friends that is.”

  “I have friends.”

  “Just checking.”

  “And actually, I do. My two best buds and I try to go on a camping trip every year.”

  Her gaze drifted up and down his button up shirt and settled on his shoes for a moment before moving back to his eyes. “Camping, really? I wouldn’t have suspected you to be the outdoorsy type.”

  “Didn’t you ever learn not to judge a book by it’s cover?” he asked.

  She tilted her head, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders. “I did, but as you already know, I’m really good at figuring people out, and you don’t strike me as the sleeping in a tent type of guy.”

  “What do I strike you as then?”

  “The roughing it in a four-star accommodation with room service kind of guy.”

  He laughed. “That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “Good to know,” she said, meeting his gaze a humorous smile on her face. “I hate that kind of guy.”

  Their eyes stayed locked as if an invisible force was keeping them there and neither were attempting to fight against the resistance. A minute later—or maybe longer; it was hard to tell—Ella cleared her throat and broke the connection. She fidgeted with the small golden heart that dangled from her necklace, rubbing the shiny metal between her thumb and forefinger.

  “Have you ever been camping?” he asked, not wanting the little time they had left together to get lost to silence. He was enjoying her company and whether she knew it or not, she was keeping his mind occupied. Before he got on this bus he couldn’t stop wondering about how it would be to stay with his grandfather—a man he only knew through letters and phone calls.

  “Once,” Ella said, “when I was seven. And we went all out. I mean we totally roughed it. My dad set up a tent in the backyard and ran an extension cord from the house to the tent.”

  “What did you need an extension cord for?”

  “The TV of course.”

  He laughed. “A TV?”

  “And a VCR. I mean how else were we supposed to watch Free Willy?”

  “Now that’s roughing it. I’m surprised you survived to talk about it.”

  “It was pretty bleak, but somehow we managed,” she said.

  He smiled, appreciating the joking tone in her voice and the way playfulness highlighted her face. They fell into easy conversation, and before he knew it the bus was pulling into the depot.

  She leaned down, picking up her bag and placing it on her lap. The bus came to a stop and she turned toward the aisle. A couple hours ago he couldn’t wait for his hellish day of travel to be over and now he didn’t want it to end.

  People began filing off the bus, and he grabbed his stuff and stepped into the aisle. Ella pushed the strap of her purse onto her shoulder and he nodded to it.

  “Is that all you have?” he asked.

  “This is it.”

  “You travel light.”

  She shrugged. “It was only a day trip.”

  The aisle cleared, and with no one else in the seats behind them, Lucas stepped away from the seat and stood back to let Ella go first. She slid out from the little world they’d created on the ride, and he followed her off the bus.

  “Well,” she said, turning to him, “it was nice meeting you.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Okay then.” She waved awkwardly and spun around. An unexpected rush of panic filled him, and he called after her. She turned back to him, her long brown hair floating around her.

  He moved toward her, knowing that if he let her walk away he would forever question his stupidity for letting her slip out of his life.

  “Do you want to grab a cup of coffee?” he asked.

  Her dark brown eyes focused on h
im, her eyebrows lifting ever so slightly. She was damn beautiful, more beautiful than any other woman he’d ever known. And somehow, he’d been lucky enough to talk to her for a couple hours.

  A couple of hours wasn’t enough.

  He had nothing to lose, so he hit her with honesty. “I couldn’t walk away from here without asking. I know I would wonder for the rest of my life what would’ve happened if I just asked. So what do you say? Coffee?”

  Her teeth slid over her plump bottom lip. She nibbled at it for a moment, then met his gaze. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  “I understand,” he said, and he did, but it didn’t take away the disappointment that was currently engulfing him in a sad pathetic cloud of rejection. He swallowed down the defeat and nodded.

  “No, it’s not like that,” she said. “If I don’t get back soon my family will worry.”

  “You’re not married, are you?” In the entire time on the bus, he hadn’t thought to ask, but she wasn’t wearing a ring; he’d checked.

  Ella laughed. “Not married. Just have three overprotective brothers and a grandfather who worry too much.”

  “That’s a lot of people looking out for you.” He had no idea what that was like, but imagined it had its perks. “That must be really nice.”

  Her eyes softened. “It is, sometimes. Other times they make me want to rip my hair out.”

  “Can I get your number then?” Now that he knew for sure she wasn’t married, he wasn’t going to walk away knowing he’d never see her again. Not when he’d felt alive for the first time in a long time just sitting on a bus talking.

  She smiled. “You’re persistent.”

  “I know a good thing when I see it.”

  “Quite the sweet talker, too.”

  “Is it working?” he asked.

  She tapped her chin then held out her hand. His eyebrow arched in curiosity.

  “Give me your phone,” she said.

  He didn’t hesitate, though maybe he should have since he honestly didn’t know her from a hole in the wall, but he felt he knew enough that she wouldn’t take off with it. She didn’t. She clicked a few buttons then the sound of a vaguely familiar pop song echoed through the air.