Keep This Promise

by Willow Winters

  Like grab her.

  “Because you want to buy a candle.”

  “Isn’t that what most people want to do when they come in here?”

  She rolls her eyes. If she keeps that up every time she’s with me, she’s going to give herself a headache. “And you’re not following me.”

  “I already told you this is all some weird coincidence.” Or fate. I’m not a huge believer in fate but what are the odds? It’s so wild, Jade fully believes I’m stalking her.

  “Is everything okay?” A large woman almost as tall as me sweeps down the aisle, coming to a stop directly in front of us. She’s wearing a long black velvet dress dotted with clear rhinestones and flowing sleeves, her pitch black hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She looks like a stereotypical witch. “Jade, are you helping this darling young man?”

  Ah, her boss. And an ally. I can sense it. “She’s trying her best,” I say, my voice filled with disappointment.

  The look Jade shoots me is the deadliest stare she can muster, which is pretty damn deadly. “I know him,” she mutters.

  “Doesn’t mean he should be treated poorly.” The woman makes a tsking noise and holds her hand out toward me, her long pointed nails a sparkly black. “I’m Enid. I own Light My Fire.”

  “Shep.” I shake her hand, smiling at her. She smiles in return. Way more friendly than Bitch Face. “I like your store.”

  Enid beams. “Thank you. Do you want me to show you around?”

  Jade starts backing up, the smug smile on her face telling me she thinks she won.

  “Ah, I appreciate the gesture but I’m sure you’re extremely busy, being the owner and all. And Jade’s not that bad. She just likes to give me grief.” I send an innocent smile in Jade’s direction and she gives me the finger. Lucky for her, she’s standing behind her boss who doesn’t even notice.

  “Jade, treat this boy right. You hear me?” Enid turns to send Jade a pointed look.

  “Of course,” Jade says through clenched teeth. “I’ll give him top notch treatment.”

  “I’ll hold you to it,” I say with a wink.

  * * *

  Jade

  * * *

  He is insufferable. I always thought that word was ridiculous but now? It fits stupid insufferable Shepard Prescott to a T. How the hell did he find me here? I don’t know if I believe him when he says it’s a coincidence. I think he tracked me down. I should find that totally creepy. I should be calling the cops, filing a restraining order, whatever it takes to keep him away from me.

  The problem is…I sort of enjoy our banter. The way he smiles at me, his dark, dark eyes full of unspoken promises. Promises I wouldn’t mind exploring. I like how he always seems to find everything amusing. Like life is just one big joke and he’s the only one in on the punch line.

  Every time he touches me I feel a spark. A zip of heat just beneath the surface, rumbling under my skin. I tell myself to ignore it. Tell myself it means nothing.

  He feels it too though. It’s in the way he pulls his hand away from me like I shocked him. It’s in that subtle smolder of his velvety gaze. He’s aware of it. Just like I’m aware of it.

  Chemistry.

  Beyond the chemistry bit, which could be totally fleeting, who knows, why would he want to find me? I’m not that special. He could have anyone he wanted. He’ll find out quick I’m a boring lay when he has adventure written all over him. I’m the girl who has performance anxiety. He’s the guy who probably revels in the performance. I’m the one who runs from it.

  Clearly, he needs to move on and forget all about me.

  “Come on,” I tell him wearily once Enid heads back to her office. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Sorry I’m such a drag,” he drawls, his deep, delicious voice wrapping all around me, making me feel warm. I tell myself to ignore it.

  So I do.

  I show him a variety of candles, all the while trying my best to deny the tension between us. Our arms brush against each other by accident and it’s like my skin’s been lit on fire. I catch him watching me and I feel my cheeks heat. And when he purposely touches me, his voice close to my ear as he grabs my arm, I want to sag into him. Feel his arm come around my waist, his other hand slip beneath my chin before he lifts my head up so our lips can meet…

  “I’ll take this one,” he says firmly, handing me a giant three wick pure white candle. “I think my mother will like the scent.”

  “But it’s white.” It’s a gardenia-scented candle, which I love but I always prefer a candle with a little color. White is boring.

  “It’s perfect. Everything in their house is white,” he says. “It won’t disrupt her color scheme and trust me, that’ll make her happy.”

  Ugh. I bet his parents live in a sterile mansion. I bet they have a ton of servants and the mother never has to leave the house or lift a finger. She probably sits on a pure white velvet couch and lounges with her white dog while eating white chocolate bon bons.

  That sounds perfectly awful.

  “Where do your parents live?” Okay fine I’m trying to find out information about him because I know next to nothing. And I’m just asking to be polite. That’s what good little sales associates do.

  “East coast. Connecticut. In fact, I was wondering if your store ships?” He lifts his brows, his expression almost pleading.

  I ignore his question. “You don’t have an accent.”

  He lowers his brows into a frown. “Say what?”

  “You’re from the east coast? I don’t detect an accent.”

  “I went to boarding school for a few years. They beat any and all accents out of their students.”

  Now it’s my turn to frown. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs. “I moved around a lot. I’ve lived in Europe, Manhattan, Los Angeles, Miami…” His voice trails off. “My parents never like to stay in one place for too long.”

  I grew up in the same house my entire life. The first time I moved is to come here for school. My hometown is two hours away and it still feels too far. I’m a total homebody, though I would never admit that to anyone. “We ship worldwide,” I tell him, choosing not to acknowledge what sounds like a glamorous—though lonely and unstable—childhood.

  “Perfect.” The relief in his voice is unmistakable. “You do giftwrapping?”

  “We have a nice gift box I can put it in but it’ll cost extra.” I lead him back to the sales counter where I start ringing him up. He flashes a black American Express card and I take it from him, our fingers grazing, causing a tingle to shoot up my arm.

  “Cost doesn’t matter,” he says, acting like he wasn’t affected by our touching at all. Jerk. I wish I could be that nonchalant. But no, my fingers are shaking as I hit the buttons on the cash register, then have to punch in all the info on the credit card machine. All while Shep watches me, drumming those long, blunt-nailed fingers on the glass countertop. His scent wraps all around me, that citrusy, earthy smell I’m slowly becoming addicted to.

  “Must be nice,” I murmur under my breath, reaching under the counter to pull out a few sheets of tissue paper. I carefully peel off the price tag on the bottom of the candle and then wrap it, securing it with a single piece of tape.

  “It usually is. Unless I’m dealing with a stubborn female who refuses to pay back her debt.”

  I lift my head, glaring at him. “I don’t owe you anything. I never agreed to that bet. Joel did.”

  “And you’re his girlfriend,” he points out.

  “Ex-girlfriend,” I stress, turning my back to him so I can grab the gift box I charged him five dollars extra for. Screw it. I padded his shipping charge too. Enid will be thrilled. Business has been slow lately and she’s thankful the weather has finally turned, bringing back the tourists. “I wish you would just leave this alone.” I start to put the box together.

  “Maybe I don’t want to.”

  “Clearly,” I say with a little snort.

  “Maybe I want to se
e you even more.” He pauses. “Maybe you’re all I think about.”

  My fingers fumble over the box, sending it flying off the counter onto the ground. I hear him come toward me, see his feet encased in very expensive looking Nikes appear next to me as he bends down at the same time I do, the both of us going for the slightly crumpled box. “There is no reason whatsoever for you to keep thinking about me.” My cheeks are on fire I’m so embarrassed. This is stupid. I shouldn’t let him get to me like this. He’s just saying these things to get under my skin and it’s working.

  “Despite how much you hate me, I keep thinking about you.” He hands over the box and I take it from him with numb fingers. “A lot.”

  “Like how you want to murder me with your bare hands?” I twist the box within my grip, mangling it further. I owe him a new one. Good thing I overcharged.

  “I’d rather do something a lot more fun to you with my bare hands,” he whispers, his mouth curving into the slightest smile.

  For once, I’ve got nothing. My throat is dry, my heart rate is going triple time and I’m feeling more than a little overwhelmed at his simple words. “You don’t mean it.”

  “I definitely do.” His gaze drops to the box in my hands. “I think we’ll need a new one.”

  We both come to a full stand together, my head just reaching his shoulder. Perfect height for me to tear off his shirt and run my mouth all over his hot, hard skin. “You’re right,” I say weakly. “Let me put together another one.”

  He says nothing as I trash the first box and put together the second one with even shakier hands. But I succeed in getting it in place and I settle the candle inside, sealing it before I grab a label and take down his mother’s address.

  I’m not acknowledging what he said. I’m not acknowledging what I’m thinking either. This is all a big mistake. If I even consider pursuing this…thing between us, I know he’ll just use me up and spit me out. I don’t want to risk it. I’m not a risky person. I hedge safe bets. Hell, I usually don’t bet at all. I test the waters, test them again, then test them yet again before I finally jump in.

  Shep is a jump in without a thought type of guy. I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…

  “Go out with me tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  I slap my hand over my mouth, which just makes him laugh. Jerk. Smug, gorgeous, hot as hell jerk.

  “No taking it back,” he says once his laughter dies. Those dark eyes of his go even darker if that’s possible. “You’re mine tonight, Jade.”

  “Wh-what exactly do you have planned?” I clear my throat, hating how nervous I sound. The man unnerves me like no other.

  “Don’t know yet,” he answers, not sounding bothered by his lack of planning at all. “I’m sure it’ll be something amazing though.”

  For once, I don’t plan on calling him out for his arrogance. I’m actually finding it attractive, which I would never admit to him. “Want to meet here? I get off work at five.”

  “I am a true gentleman, Jade. I refuse to meet you anywhere.” He smiles. “I’ll come pick you up.”

  “And let you see where I live? I don’t think so.” I shake my head.

  Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Really? You’re still on the Shep is a stalker kick? Because I can reassure you, I am definitely not.”

  “Fine.” I blow out an exasperated breath. He’s relentless. Or I just easily give in when it comes to him. “Hand me your phone.”

  He does so, purposely touching me again. And there’s that spark again, too. Yikes. I start to add my name and phone number to his contacts but hesitate. Should I give him my number?

  You so want to. Give it up girl.

  I enter my phone number then my address and hand the phone back to him. He takes it, frowning at my entry before he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine. “You live in the dorms?”

  I shrug. “I’m a freshman. Kelli and I are roommates.”

  “Your friend at the party last night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your friend you were sitting with at the poker game?”

  I nod.

  “How old are you anyway?”

  “Nineteen.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, my go-to defensive pose. He does the same thing, mirroring me right down to the way I’m standing, one foot sort of cocked out. “Do you have a problem with that?” I ask coolly.

  He smiles and shakes his head, dropping his arms back to his sides. “None whatsoever. I don’t discriminate. Age is nothing but a number.”

  I roll my eyes. “What time will you pick me up?” I ask.

  “I’ll text you later and let you know.” He starts toward the front door and I stare, unabashedly admiring that long legged stride of his, the easy way he moves. It’s almost overwhelming, how hot he is.

  And he’s definitely, outrageously hot.

  “You didn’t give me your number,” I shout at him as he opens the door, his broad back still to me.

  “I’ll give it to you in a minute,” he answers from over his shoulder before he leaves, the door slamming shut behind him.

  I plop down into the chair behind the counter and let out a harsh breath, resting my hand over my chest. My heart is racing and I swear I’m lightheaded, all from our little encounter.

  So crazy. He shouldn’t affect me this way. I shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t matter. But somehow, someway, he does. He’s wormed himself into my brain and I can’t stop thinking about him. Apparently he feels the same way.

  Weird.

  My phone beeps and I pull it out of my pocket, unable to stop the smile that curves my lips.

  Here’s your text. And my number.

  I decide to answer him.

  Promise you won’t stalk me?

  Promise.

  A pause.

  But I can’t promise I won’t become obsessed with you…

  Another pause. Another message.

  Because I think that might be already happening.

  Chapter 5

  Jade

  * * *

  “You mean to tell me he’s coming here to pick you up and take you out? On an actual date?” Kelli curls her lip into an undeniable smirk. “Wow. Shep Prescott doesn’t date, you know. Ever.”

  I roll my eyes, trying to tell my overactive stomach to calm down. It’s like there are a million little baby tap dancers inside of me, kicking the shit out of my guts and making me hopelessly, horribly nervous. “What do you mean?”

  Of course, he dates. He’s known to go through girls, one after the other. He has a man-whore reputation. Pretty much every girl on campus wants to drop her panties for him or one of his equally gorgeous friends. It’s sort of irritating, how easily I fell under his spell. Because he definitely knows how to cast one. I was so incredibly irritated when I saw him in the shop. Irritated and intrigued.

  My irritation quickly turned to pleasure. Awareness. So much damnable awareness and chemistry and whatever else you call it that brewed between us. I could feel it. Did he feel it? He had to. He’s the one who asked me to go out with him.

  Though maybe he’s doing it because supposedly he won me in a bet and he thinks I’m easy prey. Or more like an easy lay.

  Nope. Not going to fall for that. I will not end up naked with him tonight. No. No. No.

  And now I can’t help but wonder what he looks like naked.

  “He hooks up but doesn’t steadily date any of them. Sounds like you might be an exception.” Kelli sounds surprised.

  Hmm. So am I. I shouldn’t read too much into what she’s saying. This is probably just a hookup. “He claims I owe him a date. All because of that stupid bet. I could kill Joel.”

  “Right. Kill your now ex-boyfriend for getting you the opportunity to date Shep? That bet might be the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  “Please.” I wave a hand. “I’m pissed that I have to go out with him. Trust me.”

  A skeptical eyebrow is raised, one that tells me Kelli�
��s about to call me out on my shit. “Seriously? Do you really think I’m going to believe that?”

  I’m trying my best to believe it, so I hope she does too. “I may as well get this over with.” I go to my tiny closet and start thumbing through the clothes, pushing through the hangers, one after another. I have nothing good to wear. Nothing pretty and new or flirty and sexy. Not that I want to flirt or look sexy.

  You so do.

  Okay, fine I do. I want to knock stupid sexy Shep on his ass when he takes one look at me but how? “I have nothing to wear,” I moan.

  Kelli magically appears at my side, pushing me out of the way so she can have a go at the pitiful offerings in my closet. “Too bad you wore that cute shirt last night. I’d suggest you wear it again but it’s too soon.”

  No way would I wear it. I’d felt too exposed last night in it. I remember the way Shep looked at me. His eyes hot, seeming to see everything, all of me and making me shivery…

  “How about this?” Kelli interrupts my thoughts, holding out a cute little black dress I wore to a holiday party last Christmas.

  I wrinkle my nose. “That’s way too much. I’m not going to prom.”

  Kelli huffs out a breath. “But what if he’s taking you to some fancy dinner? He might, considering he’s filthy rich and can afford just about anything he wants. Did he tell you what you’re doing tonight? Where you’re going? And who goes out on a Sunday night anyway? Don’t you have class in the morning?” Kelli asks as she shoves the dress back into my closet.

  “What are you, my mother? And no, he didn’t tell me where we’re going.” He didn’t tell me much of anything beyond saying that he might become obsessed with me.

  Talk about crazy. Is that some sort of line he’s trying to use so he can get in my panties? Maybe, because come on. Shep Prescott obsessed with me?

  Please.

  I shouldn’t trust him. I shouldn’t believe anything he says, especially when he’s in flirt mode, which is all the time. But I can’t deny the little thrill that shot through me at his admission. The admission I still have on my phone, that I stare at every once in a while, when Kelli’s not looking.