by Skye Jordan
Isaac frowned. “Why would your father side with your ex over you?”
A sense of vindication pulsed through her. She tipped her head to look back with an emphatic “Thank you.” Then resettled against him. “I was beginning to think I was the twisted one. Somehow my father and brothers didn’t think my fiancé getting blown beneath his desk by not one but two of his employees was grounds for firing. Breakup, sure; firing, no.”
Isaac stiffened behind her. His fingers stopped stroking her arm and curled around it instead. He turned his head and leaned back to look at her. “Excuse me?”
She smiled at his anger on her behalf. “What? The firing part or the getting-blown-under-his-desk part?”
“Both. What the fuck?”
Ava’s chest loosened like an untied knot, and she laughed. “God, I’m so glad that’s over. And considering I met you because of it, I’m also glad it happened.”
The waiter came and poured their wine. Ava was surprised to see Isaac lift the glass, swirl, and sniff before he tasted, as if he were a natural wine lover.
“Mmm,” he hummed, tipping his glass toward her with a grin. “Nice choice.”
She smiled, loving the layers she was discovering in Isaac. “I seem to be making lots of nice choices lately.”
“Firing your ex chief among them.”
Ava laughed. “Depends on who you ask. My father’s getting ready to retire. My ex had been slated to promote, and firing him upset the apple cart. I’m hoping that without the daily management of the company between my father and me, we’ll be able to repair our relationship. Right now, it’s not particularly civil.” She forced a smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “Anything that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?”
“Sometimes.” His gaze went distant and turned sad. “And sometimes it just plain breaks you.” He leaned in and kissed her head, whispering, “I’m glad yours is making you stronger.”
There was a story there. A story she wanted to know. Before she could ask, Tim stopped at their table and slid two platters in front of them with various meats, sauces, and sides. Tim pointed out all the delicacies, which included beef, chicken, pork, sausage, shrimp, salmon, potatoes, corn bread, beans, coleslaw… The list went on and on.
Ava’s mouth was still hanging open in shock at the sheer amount of delectable food when the man offered a friendly smile. “We’ve got plenty of to-go boxes,” Tim told her, “and everything heats up real nice in a microwave. You two enjoy now.” He winked at Isaac. “Nice to see you with such pretty company for a change, son.”
When Tim wandered over to another table, she lifted a brow at Isaac. “Who do you usually come here with?”
“A motley crew of bikers.” He poised the serving fork over the tray. “What’ll it be?”
Ava shook her head at the enormity of the feast. “A bite of everything is about all I can manage. This could feed a small country.”
He grinned. “Usually only feeds me for a few days.”
After he’d served them both, Ava picked up her fork. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Brisket,” Isaac said, sinking his fork into the tender meat. “This brisket is the best I’ve ever tasted.” He darted a smile at her. “Don’t ever tell my mom I said that.”
Ava was still smiling when Isaac picked up the brisket and ate it off the fork—without ever shifting the utensil to his right hand. His eyes closed on a sound of pleasure, but he finished chewing before he told her, “Amazing.” He pointed with his knife, which remained in his right hand. “Try it.”
Ava obliged. The tender meat melted in her mouth. Spices and flavor exploded on her tongue, and she made a sound similar to Isaac’s. “Oh my God, you’re not kidding.”
“That’s music to my ears, people.” Tim paused at the table, topping off their wineglasses before moving on.
Isaac was on his third bite, his utensils never changing hands, his fork remaining facedown. And this time, he used his knife to push sauce onto the brisket before eating.
Ava set down her own utensils and took a sip of wine, watching Isaac eat. He’d laid his cloth napkin on his lap and only rested his knife to use the white linen. He relished his food, taking his time to savor, and never complained about having to drink wine with BBQ.
“What?” he asked, his hands pausing mid-bite. Concern crossed his face. “You don’t like it?” He lowered his fork and looked behind her. “Let me get Tim. We’ll find you something else. Their menu is—”
She covered his hand before he lifted it to wave down the owner. “No. I love it. I just noticed the way you use your knife and fork. Where’d you learn that?”
He frowned at his plate for a moment before awareness crossed his features. Something else flashed across his handsome face, but Ava couldn’t figure it out before it was gone.
“It’s…European,” she clarified. “And it’s proper. The only people I’ve ever known to eat that way are foreign, well-traveled or well-heeled.”
Isaac put his utensils down and sat back, picking up his wine in a practiced, sophisticated way that didn’t fit a country mechanic.
His expression turned stoic. “I’ve traveled some.”
She waited. And waited. And finally laughed out, “Did you want to expand on that?”
He cleared his throat. “I was an engineer before I started the shop. Traveled to job sites to keep projects on track, that kind of thing.”
“An engineer.” She drew out the word seeing him in a whole different light. “That explains a lot.”
“Like what?”
“How you’ve made Revival successful enough to support you. Why your garage is cleaner and better organized than a chef’s kitchen. Why I could tell you were different from the moment you stepped into Grind.”
And maybe, in some unconscious way, why she was so drawn to him. Why she felt like they fit. Like they’d known each other longer than they had.
She plucked a slice of sausage from the plate and nibbled, treading lightly on a subject he didn’t seem all that enthusiastic to talk about. “How long did you work as an engineer?”
“Six years after college,” he said without meeting her eyes.
“Where did you go to college?”
He took another drink of wine. “MIT.”
Ava’s brows shot up. “Huh. I have to admit, I didn’t see that comin’.”
That struck Isaac funny. He grinned, then started laughing.
Ava laughed with him, enjoying bites of the little smorgasbord before them. “You know I’ve got to hear the story of how you went from MIT to motorcycle mechanic.”
Isaac made a slow dent in the food, but he seemed to have lost the zest for eating that he’d come with. His reluctance to tell that tale felt like an elephant at the table.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I didn’t mean to bring up an off-color topic. You don’t have to—”
“It’s okay.” He shook his head and looked into his wine. “It’s just…that story ends with my brother dead. I don’t know if you really want to hear it.”
It took Ava a second to process—or maybe believe—the word “dead.” She sobered instantly. “You’re…not kidding.”
“I wish I were.”
Her gut clenched. Ava angled toward him and swung one leg over his, cuddling closer. “Is that the tragedy that made you stronger?”
He covered her thigh with his free hand and huffed a humorless laugh. “No. It broke me—at least initially. In some ways, I’m still broken. In some, I’ll probably never fully recover. Time helps, but it doesn’t cure.”
She couldn’t even imagine. “How long ago did it happen?”
“Little over a year.” He sipped his drink and slipped into the past, his gaze distant. Then he surprised her by going on. “He was two years younger than me. More of a free spirit. Not as directed and ambitious. At nineteen, when he still hadn’t settled into a career path, he enlisted in the army. He did well. Advanced quickly. But over time, after seein
g too much bullshit overseas, losing too many buddies, he cracked. Came back to the States. My parents would have given their own lives to cure his pain. They got him the best therapists, put him in support groups. He and I spent weekends on the road on our bikes—it was a passion we shared since we were kids.” His lips turned in a little smile. “And one my mother loathed with a passion.”
“I bet,” she murmured.
Isaac thought a moment before continuing. “At the time, my work was crazy. I had a handful of big jobs either hitting walls or falling behind. I was under a lot of pressure and stress. He called me three times before eight a.m. that day. I picked up the first two calls. His brain was frayed. He was spiraling. I did what I could to ease his mind, promised him we’d take a ride through the country as soon as I got out of the office.” His eyes misted over. “I didn’t take his third call. I was headed into a business meeting with our biggest client and needed my head in the game—”
He stopped abruptly, and the agony that crossed his features ripped at Ava’s heart. He cleared his throat. Blinked a few times. Stared down into his wine. “He killed himself before noon.”
A sound of anguish ebbed from Ava’s throat, and she dropped her head to his shoulder, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “I’m so sorry.”
Isaac ran his hand over her hair. “I’ve found a certain measure of peace knowing he’s in a better place. That he’s not suffering anymore. But, damn,” his voice roughened, “I miss the hell out of that guy. My parents, though… Seeing their pain is really hard on me. They’re great people. Amazing parents. But that’s not something you get past, you know, losing a kid. I see it in their eyes every time they look at me. I remind them that they should have two sons, not one.”
“God, that’s…heartbreaking.”
He kissed her head. “Sorry to pull such a heavy subject into our perfect night.”
She cupped his cheek. “It’s just made our night even more perfect. I love knowing you.” Yeah, she loved knowing him way too much. “So that’s when you took a step back from engineering and opened the shop?”
“Yeah. I was no good at work. I was scattered, distracted, forgetting things. My brain wouldn’t function right. I started Revival as a sort of therapy. In a place where I could find peace but be close enough to my parents for regular visits.”
That warmed her. “You three must be close.”
He smiled, nodded. “I lucked out. They’re fantastic.”
“I’m glad they have you.”
He emptied the rest of the bottle into their glasses and asked their waiter for the check. Then he turned to her, took her chin between his fingers, and said, “Stay with me tonight?”
She relaxed and smiled. “Haven’t had an offer that good in years.”
10
Ava’s lids fluttered open to white sheets, tan skin, and a cool breeze. Isaac sat propped against the wall with his laptop open on his boxer-brief-clad thighs.
The loft was nothing but an open space of white walls and a couple of dormers with windows. His furniture consisted of a mattress on a metal frame and milk cartons for everything from his one nightstand to his one TV stand. A tiny bathroom that violated every building code in existence was tucked into a corner along with apartment-style, stacked washer and dryer.
Ava had never been so happy with so little.
Joy and contentment coursed through her body, making her smile. “I’m in heaven.”
He grinned and stroked a hand over her hair.
Ave reached out and traced his ab muscles while his fingers massaged her scalp. “Oh my God,” she breathed on an exhale of pure comfort. “You make it so hard to go back to reality.”
“Ah…” He sighed dramatically, a big smile on his face. “My job here is done.”
She laughed as he leaned down and kissed her head, her cheek, her jaw, her neck.
“You smell like me.” His rough whisper shivered over her ear.
“I love smelling like you.”
He snuggled with her another moment, ignoring whatever he’d been doing on his computer. She couldn’t remember Matthew ever doing that. He was always distracted with something more important.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“For you? Always.” She propped herself up on her elbows.
“What about food?” he asked, stringing kisses down her neck. “There’s a great diner about five minutes away. That will give me energy to play another day of hooky with you in my bed.”
She lifted a smile to his. “Do you have a stash of Viagra around here somewhere?”
“You are my Viagra.” He set his computer on his milk-crate nightstand and tossed aside the sheets over his thighs. His cock was thick and stiff.
She started laughing. “How in the hell?”
He reached for his phone, lifted it toward the ceiling, and took a picture.
“Hey,” she said, dragging at the sheet to cover herself. “Did you just snap my bare ass?”
“You wanted to know how.” He turned the screen toward her. “This is how.”
Ava glanced at the photo with dread. But the image that met her eyes wasn’t what she’d expected to see at all. She grabbed the phone from him to get a better look. Her pale skin was offset by rumpled white sheets, her blonde hair tousled free of her braid and as rumpled as the bedsheets. Cheeks pink, eyes bright, her whole face smiling.
“What?” he asked.
“I feel like I’m looking at someone else. I’ve never…seen myself like this.”
She’d been in plenty of photo shoots—professional journals, newspapers, headshots, promotional campaigns, even People magazine once as a top female executive in a man’s industry. But not even professional photographers and Photoshop gurus had ever made her look like Isaac’s snapshot…so alive, so joyful, so utterly comfortable in her own skin.
“We don’t always see ourselves the way others do.” Isaac pointed at the phone. “That’s how I see you. Sexy. Fun. Full of life.”
She took his phone and her gaze drifted to the tiny row of thumbnail photos below the image, one with the coloring similar to the one he’d just taken. “What’s this?”
He lunged for the phone, but she rolled away, laughing as she stretched her arm so he couldn’t steal it.
“I think someone was being a naughty boy while I was asleep.”
“Ava…” His hand closed on her forearm and pulled. “I need to delete those.”
She shook off his hand and touched the screen, enlarging the thumbnail. She’d expected to see more erotic photos of her body, but saw something entirely different—an image of herself sleeping.
He’d taken several shots of her from the shoulders up, her face turned on the pillow, her hair a tangled halo of wheat. The cheek toward the camera was pink, her lashes long, her lips swollen from his mouth and parted in sleep.
Isaac exhaled and dropped his head to the pillow beside her with a groan. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
The photo touched her. It touched her in ways she couldn’t describe. She glanced over her shoulder and found his eyes closed. His body was heavy at her back, his erection tucked against her ass. “Isaac?”
“I know, I know,” he answered with dread in his voice. “Probably seems creepy. I’m sorry. I’ll erase them.” His dark lashes fluttered open. He sighed, propped himself up on one elbow. “Look, I know you’re only here for fun. I know you’re not staying. I just wanted a memory.”
Pressure built in her chest until it pushed the air from her lungs. Tears glazed her eyes. She didn’t know how to process the feelings swelling inside her, shocked her affection for him came so easily after the shit she’d been through with Matthew and her family. Or maybe that was exactly why it came so quickly, because he was nothing like Matthew or her family.
But nothing would come of this. Nothing could come of this. Matthew had killed any romantic bent she’d ever possessed. And she and Isaac… This was an amazing fantasy. A time she’d remember for the rest of her
life. But she didn’t trust love anymore. Didn’t believe long-term relationships could work.
Ava rolled toward him until she was half on top of him. She laid one hand on his chest and her chin on her hand. With the other, she stroked his rough cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m just not in a position to promise anything. I’m living hour by hour right now, and my feelings are all over the map.”
“I get it.” He stroked the skin of her back. “I do. After Jeremy…” He shook his head. “You’re the first woman who’s been able to stir any interest.” He rolled away and sat up. “Don’t worry about it. You can go. I’ve got a lot of work to keep me busy here.” In the distance, the garage phone rang. Isaac growled. “Especially with that damn phone.”
“What do you think about this?” Ava might not be ready to commit to anyone or anything, but she was equally unready to leave Isaac. “You hire Becky Rae and have her come in a few hours today. I’ll train her for you. You know, phone etiquette, filing, email.”
He didn’t answer right away. After a couple of long minutes, he tilted his head and looked at her. “Why?”
She shrugged. “I need a weekend off, and if I go home, I’ll just work. You could use a little support, and I can help.” She rested her cheek against his shoulder, combed her hand into his hair, and kissed his jaw. “Of course, there are fringe benefits to spending all that time together too.”
He cupped her face, and the look in his eyes made her feel like she’d offered him the answers to the universe. She didn’t understand how this man she hardly knew could make her feel so special.
“I’ll take you up on that.” He kissed her. “But only if we can start with the fringe benefits.”
Ava grinned, slid fully on top of him, and straddled his lap. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
11
Monday, Ava was back at her desk trying to stay awake for the weekly conference call between project managers in Asia, Australia, and North America. After her weekend with Isaac, the conversations over quarterly earnings that usually intrigued her now bored her brain numb.
