Love With Me (With Me In Seattle Book 11)

by Kristen Proby

  “She’s great. Busier than ever. Her business has exploded this year.”

  “Good for her,” he says as he pulls the door of the store open, holding it for me, and my hand feels cold when I lose that connection with him. “So, the interior decorating business is thriving?”

  “For her, it is,” I confirm. “Lead the way. I have no idea where the men’s shoes are.”

  “Do you know where anything is in here?”

  “Can’t say that I do,” I reply with a laugh. “You know I’m not a shopper. That’s Noel’s department.”

  “I promise this won’t hurt a bit,” he says as he leads me to the escalator going down. This is the flagship store, and it’s massive. A person could get lost in here.

  The men’s shoe section is bigger than most other department stores, and from the look on Jace’s face, it’s what dreams are made of.

  “You might want to wipe the drool off your chin,” I suggest, earning a tug on my ear.

  “I love shoes,” he says with a sigh, picking up a pair of tennis shoes. “I won’t apologize for it.”

  “You have more shoes than I have hairs on my head.” I lift a pair of Guccis, and about choke at the price on the sole, immediately putting it down before I ruin it and have to buy it.

  Jace ignores my ribbing and proceeds to try on about six pairs of shoes before deciding on two of them. When he’s finished, we return upstairs to leave, but the sunglasses catch my eye.

  “I could use a new pair of these,” I murmur as I start trying them on. “What do you think?”

  “Are you trying to say, ‘I’m Elton John’s love child?’”

  “No.”

  “Then they’re not for you.” He laughs and searches with me for another pair, his grey eyes moving over the glasses. He’s in a black T-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. His arms flex as he reaches up to pull a pair down. “Try these.”

  “Hey, they’re not bad.” I turn my head, looking in the mirror. “You like?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Sold.”

  “That was easy,” he says.

  “Why make it hard? I like them, and I hate to shop, so we’re done here.” I lead him to the customer service counter and pay for my glasses, and then we’re off, back on the busy sidewalks of Seattle.

  “Let’s take these to the car and then get a bite to eat,” Jace says. “In fact, you choose a place, and then I’ll just run these to the car myself.”

  “I haven’t been to the Palomino in a while.” It’s my favorite steakhouse in Seattle.

  “That does sound good,” he says. “Plus, we’re parked near there, so it’s perfect.”

  We rush the few blocks to the restaurant, which isn’t busy yet, and are seated quickly. True to his word, Jace hurries over to stow our bags before returning to browse the menu.

  “God, I don’t think I’ve been here since we came to celebrate your birthday two years ago,” he says as he sets his menu aside and takes a drink of his water.

  “Same here,” I reply, deciding on the steak frites. “It’s so different at lunchtime versus the dinner rush.”

  “I like it,” he agrees. “I can actually hear you.”

  The waitress comes with our drinks, takes our food order, and when she’s gone, Jace reaches over to hold my hand again.

  This is new. While Jace has always grabbed my hand to cross the street, he doesn’t randomly hold my hand in other places.

  It sends a tingle up my arm and straight to my nipples, making them pucker.

  Jesus, I hope he can’t see them through this thin, pink T-shirt.

  “So, aside from the shoes you bought today,” I begin, trying to distract myself from my suddenly uncomfortable breasts, and slide my hand out of his, “have you bought any other shoes lately?”

  “Hmm.” He spreads butter on a piece of bread and takes a bite, chewing as he thinks about it. “I found some new Jordans a couple of weeks ago. I downloaded an app on my phone that alerts me to new shoes so I can see what’s coming and what I might want.”

  “Wow.” I blink at him.

  “Oh, it’s a thing,” he says and takes another bite. “There are people who even resell the ones that are hard to get. They make a ton of money. I guess if this surgeon thing doesn’t work out, I could do that.”

  “No.” I shake my head vehemently. “The surgeon thing is going to be fine.”

  “I could become a YouTuber and review shoes.”

  I continue to blink at him, and he finally dissolves into laughter. “You should see your face.”

  “I did not tutor you all through English Comp in college just to have you review shoes on YouTube.”

  “Hey, this isn’t all about you.”

  “Yes.”—I take a bite of bread—“it is. But it’s an interesting hobby.”

  “What’s your hobby, J?”

  I stop chewing and frown at him. “Uh, work?”

  “Nope, that can’t be your hobby.”

  “Taking Nancy for walks.”

  He cocks a brow. “Bor-ing.”

  “Don’t judge me, shoe-addict. I guess I like to cook, so that’s a hobby.”

  “Okay, this I can work with.”

  “It’s not about you.”

  He grins as his plate is set in front of him, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yes, it is.”

  “I bought apples, grapes, mango, and onions,” I inform Nancy and Carl as I unpack my sacks in the kitchen. I’ve just walked through the door. Jace has gone home, probably to admire his awesome new shoes and find them homes in his ridiculously huge closet, and I’m looking forward to a quiet evening at home with my animals, a glass of wine, and Netflix. “Pike’s Place Market has the best produce. Of course, they charge an arm and a leg for it, but it’s totally worth it.”

  “Meow,” Carl says before turning in a circle on the stool in front of the island and then beginning to take a bath.

  “I know,” I say as if I know exactly what he said. “The grapes are big. I think I’ll freeze them.”

  Nancy follows me all over the kitchen as I wash and put away the produce. She has a doggie door to get in and out to do her business, but she really prefers to go with me during the day.

  “I know, you’ve been alone all day,” I say, giving her a scratch behind her ears. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  At the word walk, she runs to the door and sits pretty by her leash.

  “You’re a good girl,” I croon as I hook her up. She leads me outside, down to the sidewalk, and along the street. We always take the same route. I’m convinced Nancy could walk herself, she knows it so well. She stops here and there to sniff about, mark, and then rejoins me on the sidewalk.

  Nancy is a happy dog. She’s adapted well to having just one eye and living with me. In the beginning, I thought I’d foster her until we could find her a permanent home, but she bullied her way into my heart with her sweet, happy demeanor and funny antics.

  She was meant to be mine.

  When we come around the corner, only about a block from the house, I see that Jace’s car is sitting in the driveway behind mine.

  “I wonder if he forgot something,” I say to Nancy.

  “Rrrrfff,” she replies.

  “Or maybe he just missed you.”

  She looks up at me with a happy grin, that long tongue hanging from her mouth.

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s it.”

  We walk in to the smell of food and the water in the kitchen running.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as I hang Nancy’s leash by the door and walk into the kitchen.

  “Your dishes,” he says with a smile. “And I brought dinner. Oh! And these.”

  He hurries to the kitchen table and passes me a bouquet of flowers from the market.

  “I didn’t see you buy these.”

  “I went back for them,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I saw you sniffing them earlier.”

  “They’re beautiful.” I bury my nose in a
hydrangea and breathe it in. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He shuts off the water and wipes his hands on my towel. “I have burgers from Red Mill for dinner.”

  “It’s not my birthday,” I remind him.

  He cocks his head to the side. “No, but you’ve got to be hungry. And I appreciated today. It helped more than I expected it would to keep my mind off of work. But if you’re sick of me, I can take my burger home.”

  “I’m not sick of you.” I roll my eyes and open the cupboard above the fridge, looking for a vase for the flowers. “I can never reach anything up here.”

  “Let me.” He’s behind me, his front pressed to my back as he reaches over me to retrieve the vase. “Here.”

  “Thanks.”

  It’s a whisper. Every nerve ending hums, and I feel the loss when Jace steps away from me.

  This is insane. Yes, I’ve been attracted to Jace for years, but it’s never been like this.

  “I was just going to watch some Netflix tonight,” I inform him once I’ve got my voice under control. “You’re welcome to stay.”

  “Burgers and TV? This is a treat.” He grabs the bags of food and follows me to the living room. “But is it going to be something mushy? Because you know how I feel about that.”

  “I was going to start bingeing something new, but I hadn’t decided on what.”

  We eat and comb through the menu on the TV and decide on Ozark. Our bellies are full, our feet up on the coffee table. Carl’s curled up in my lap, and Nancy is on the couch next to Jace, her head on his leg, snoring loudly.

  It’s as normal and domestic as it gets. Comfortable.

  Easy.

  My phone rings.

  “It’s Noel,” I inform Jace before hitting the green button. Jace pauses the TV. “Hey, you.”

  “Did you go to Nordstrom without me?” she demands.

  “How did you know that?”

  “My assistant was there on her lunch break and saw you. I can’t believe you went without me.”

  “I went with Jace. He wanted shoes.”

  “You didn’t get anything?”

  “Well, I did get new sunglasses.”

  She sighs heavily in my ear, making me chuckle.

  “This is not funny!”

  “It’s totally funny. You sound like I slept with your boyfriend.”

  “Pretty much the same thing.” I bust up laughing and glance at Jace, who is petting Nancy and smiling.

  “I used your rewards card.” I cringe, hoping this at least soothes her, and I’m not disappointed.

  “Score,” she says, happy again. “What are you doing?”

  “Watching Netflix with Jace.”

  She’s quiet for a moment, and I frown at the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Have a fun night. Does Sunday work for dinner? We should invite Dad.”

  “That works.”

  “Okay, see you then.”

  I hang up and toss my phone on the coffee table. Before I can start the show back up again, Jace says, “Everything okay?”

  “Noel doesn’t love it when I shop without her. Probably because I never shop.”

  “She’ll get over it.” He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles as I hit play on the remote.

  I’m lying on him.

  I open my eyes and frown. The TV is off, but there’s light coming in from the moon. Jace is on his back, lying down, and I’m on him.

  My head is on his chest, and I can hear his heart. Our legs are tangled. And his arms are wrapped around my shoulders, holding on tightly.

  I suspect Nancy is on her bed in the corner of the living room, given the snores coming from there.

  We’ve slept like this before. In college, we’d fall asleep studying, and I’d wake up like this in the morning. It hasn’t happened in years.

  And I’ve never had the undeniable urge to rip off his clothes and have wild, sweaty sex with him. I’ve never let myself fantasize about him because, aside from Noel, he’s my closest friend.

  We’re squarely in the friend zone.

  I can’t let anything happen to our relationship. And let’s face it, sex just muddies everything up.

  “Stop moving and sleep.”

  He shifts, drags his hand up and down my back, and kisses my forehead. He’s warm, but not uncomfortably so. And my God, he smells so damn good. It’s doing things to me.

  “Sleep.”

  “I have to be smooshing you,” I whisper. “I should move.”

  But his arms tighten.

  “You’re a little thing, Joy. You’re not smooshing me. Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You’re bossy.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  I sigh and stay where I am for about fifteen seconds until I can’t stand it anymore.

  “Seriously, I should—”

  “That’s it.” He rolls sideways, pinning me between his big body and the back cushions of the couch behind me. “You’re off me. Better?”

  “What if I’m not sleepy?”

  He kisses my forehead again and starts to push his fingers through my hair, rubbing my scalp and brushing the loose strands. Damn him, he knows I can never resist when someone plays with my hair.

  “Oh, that makes me sleepy.”

  “I know,” he whispers.

  “You really do have good hands.”

  “It’s part of the job,” he says. “And all the better to play with your hair.”

  “I have little hands.” I swallow hard. “I can’t believe I’m about to admit this, but sometimes I worry that my hands are too small for surgery.”

  “Why?”

  “Some of the animals I see are big. I’m strong, but I’m small, and I want the best for my patients.”

  “You are the best for your patients,” he assures me. “You’re the best there is, Joy. You’re so fucking smart. And your heart is in it, and that’s the most important piece of all.”

  “I know. It’s what makes you a good surgeon, too.”

  “Is it?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  His hand pauses in my hair.

  “Jace, when your patient didn’t make it, and you showed up here? You were devastated. I’ve never seen you like that.”

  “It’s the first time that it was a shock that the patient didn’t make it,” he admits. “In the past, when I lost someone, we knew it was a possibility. It still sucked, but I knew it could happen. This one was different.”

  “And you cared. Do you know how many doctors would pay their respects to the family and then just get on with their day? A lot of them. People accuse surgeons of being heartless, and maybe sometimes they need to be. But you’re not.”

  “It might be easier if I was.”

  I’ve missed this. Confessing our deepest thoughts in the dark. We haven’t done this since college.

  My hand glides up his side, over his shoulder, and I cup his cheek. He’s let his stubble grow, and it’s prickly against my palm.

  “I’m proud of you,” I say.

  “I’m scared,” he says. “I don’t know what to do with this much time off. I need to work, not because of the money but because it’s who I am, Joy.”

  “I know.”

  “I can work on projects at the house, and order all the damn shoes in the world, but none of that feeds my soul.”

  “You’ll be back there,” I assure him. “It might happen quicker than anyone thinks. Maybe the attorneys can talk the family into dropping the case, or the hospital will settle.”

  “We can hope.” He sighs and tips his forehead to mine. “Thank you. For everything. But especially for this. You’re the only one who gets it. You’re the only one—”

  He breaks off, and I want to know what he was going to say. I need to know.

  “What?”

  He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

  “What are we doing, Jace?”

  He’s quiet
for a long moment, and I’m afraid I’ve taken this too far. But suddenly, he says, “Just sleep, Joy.”

  Our legs are still tangled. My arm is draped around Jace’s waist, and he’s cradling me to him, playing with my hair as my eyes get heavier and heavier.

  “Okay,” I whisper and give in to sleep.

  ~Jace~

  Moving quietly isn’t easy when you’re six-foot-three, and the person you’re trying not to wake up is tangled up with you.

  Dawn is just breaking, casting the room in shadows. Joy’s face is buried against my chest, and she’s murmuring in her sleep.

  She’s a sleep talker.

  I manage to disengage my legs and ease off the couch, replacing my chest with a pillow. Once I’m standing, I pause to make sure Joy continues sleeping.

  Nancy snores from her bed, and Carl is curled up with the canine, both oblivious to me and my jumbled thoughts.

  I grab my keys and quietly leave Joy’s house. I need to go home. I need to get away from her and think.

  I’m not sneaking off because I’ve done anything wrong. No, I just need to clear my head. To think things through and get a grip on these feelings I have for her. If I stayed on that couch for one more minute, I would have crossed a line I swore I never would with Joy.

  But it’s becoming harder and harder to keep my damn hands off her.

  “I’m a dick,” I mutter and rub my fingers over my mouth. “I can’t just leave her like that. This is Joy, not some one-night stand.

  I’ve never even had a one-night stand, and I’m not going to treat Joy like one. This isn’t the walk of shame. She’s my best friend, and my fucked-up feelings can’t mess with that.

  She deserves better.

  She’s right, my mama raised me right, and respecting women is paramount to me. Sneaking off while she sleeps is not respectful.

  It’s fucking chickenshit.

  So, I pull into a drive-through to pick up breakfast to take back to her. Yes, my feelings for Joy are changing, and have been for some time now. She’s always been my friend. We’re kindred spirits. But it’s more than that.

  She’s more than that.

  And it’s messing with me, possibly more than the shit happening at the hospital is, and that’s a lot.

  I pull into her driveway, grab the bag of food and tray of coffees, and walk back into her house. She’s sitting up on the couch, rubbing sleep from her eyes.