by Liz Crowe
He finished inhaling his food, wiped his mouth, and slid around the curved booth seat so he was right next to her. She shifted, a little uneasy with the sudden close contact, keeping her eyes on her plate as he put his arm around her shoulders.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” he whispered before giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek and moving back to his original position.
The buzz of her phone startled Sara out of her quiet shock. Jack, with his usual post-midnight text.
“You awake?”
She stared at it then raised her head to observe the blonde young man across from her, unable to process anything except her longing to have Jack’s hands and lips on her. Resolute, she shut the phone off and tucked it into her pocket.
“Jack?” Craig inquired, finishing his soda.
“Who else?” Sara pushed her plate away and sighed.
“You deserve better,” he said, not taking his eyes from hers but in the sort of matter-of-fact tone that made her blink.
He is truly a lovely guy. What is your problem?
“Yeah, well, you and Blake and Rob can form a club, okay?” She stood, suddenly exhausted and wanting to go home. “But leave me out of it. I’m sick of hearing about myself.”
As Craig guided her out to his truck, he kept his hand in the small of her back. She turned to him before he could open her door and put her hands on his shoulders.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” she started but was interrupted by a sudden onset of tears. “You are an amazing guy, and I owe you a lot, but…”
He took a step closer. Her brain had buzzed as his lips hovered near hers. But the pressed her fingers to his mouth and pushed him back, shaking her head. “No, Craig. I’m too conflicted right now. You’ll just make it worse for us both.
He put his forehead against hers and cradled her face, running his thumbs down her wet cheeks. She could feel the calluses years of guitar playing had rendered on his palms and fingers.
“I’m here, Sara, when you’re ready,” he said. “But not before. I have no intention of serving as a distraction, although I’m sure it would be fun.” His lips touched her nose and brushed her lips as he reached behind her to open the door. She sucked in a deep breath. The chlorine scent floated out of the car and up into her head, making her dizzy.
Now Sara sat staring at her computer screen, realizing she was going to be late to the monthly all-company meeting but frozen in place by her own ridiculous dilemma.
You don’t have to fight for his attention or worry he’s gonna bolt at the last minute and stick his tongue down some other girl’s throat while you watch.
But he isn’t what you want. No matter how hard you try and justify it. It’s not fair to him, either.
She looked at her clenched fingers in her lap, and then sighed. Grabbing her purse and phone, she ran for the car, hampered only slightly by her white, pencil skirt.
She remembered, once upon a time, feeling sorry in a superior way for those simpering agents and others who would so obviously yearn for Jack Gordon’s wandering attentions.
Now look at you, Sara Jane, you are the worst one yet.
She’d effectively ignored him, his texts, calls, and whatever else for over a week though, and felt stronger thanks to that and her sudden realization that the young blonde gorgeous man in her office had a crush on her.
So fuck you, Gordon, and your adoring posse. I’ll see you one tall raven-haired groupie and raise you a smoking hot blonde with a guitar.
She smiled at herself in the rearview mirror, glanced at the text Craig had sent her saying he’d save her a seat, and zoomed across town. When she breezed into the large hotel conference room, her eyes were immediately drawn to the nearly six-foot woman with a sleek curtain of black hair in fuck-me pumps and a designer-style suit standing in the middle of the room. She was laughing, in an obvious “notice me” sort of way, and had a well-manicured hand on the arm of the man in front of her.
Oh goodie, Heather is here. Now the party can really start.
The room filled up, everyone eager to hear more about Jack’s downtown project. She grabbed coffee and a yogurt and glanced around. She was ignoring the woman she’d caught with Jack and trying not to see where he was at the moment when she came face to face with Blake.
“Jesus,” she declared, nearly spilling her coffee. “You scared me.”
He stood with his hands in his trouser pockets, his hair still damp from a shower. “What?” she demanded. “Why are you here?”
“Nice to see you, too.” He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. His solid, comforting presence made her smile in spite of herself. “I got a personal invite from Jack,” he said as he gazed around the room. Surprised, Sara stepped away from him. He shrugged. “This building is a block from our place so I guess he thought I might want to know more.” He waved at someone across the room. “I’m gonna stand at the back and take off after his little dog and pony. I’ll catch you later.” He gave her shoulders another squeeze and strolled away.
Sara kept scanning the room as she stopped to chat with colleagues, on a mission to find Craig. Cathy came up behind her and propelled her toward a middle table. “Over here, Sara,” she said. “We’ve got a spot for you.” Sara let herself be guided and got a little thrill at the sight of Craig smiling at her. He pulled a chair out and she reddened as she sensed everyone watching. She caught Val’s smirk across the table and stuck her tongue out at her.
Greg Stewart stood at the podium and cleared his throat, which brought some semblance of quiet to the noisy room. Sara congratulated herself on having not looked for Jack as she peeled the lid off her yogurt. At that moment, she heard him, his deep laughter first, then his voice.
“No, you call me when you have a real offer.” He clapped some poor woman on the shoulder and Sara saw her redden at his touch. Her own thighs clenched and her scalp tingled but she chided herself on her body’s involuntary reaction.
Come on, Sara, Jack is not all that…
She smiled weakly at Craig, not really seeing him, as New Sara whined in her ear. Oh yes. He is. You know it and you want every inch of it, and him, bullshit and all.
The eyes of every single female in the room followed his broad, blue wool-clad shoulders as he made his way to the front, stopping to speak to a few agents but completely ignoring Heather who shot him a look of combined fury and desire. She took a deep breath, kept her back to the podium and continued eating, trying her very best to calm her pounding heart.
Craig moved his chair a few inches nearer hers and she felt her pulse slow down. Her throat unclenched enough to swallow a few bites of un-tasted yogurt as she promised herself she’d stay turned away until Jack’s little show was finished. The room went quiet, and Greg greeted his agents, reviewed a few upcoming dates, including their annual fall picnic before introducing “the man who needs no introduction.” The room buzzed with anticipation.
Sara rolled her eyes at Val, whose eyes stayed fixed on the podium. They all waited for Jack’s latest details and PowerPoint of condo floor plan options, prices, and retail opportunities. She heard him thank Greg, then crack a joke that she couldn’t hear for the buzzing in her ears. She let her gaze rest on her brother, who leaned against one of the back doors, coffee cup in one hand, eyes neutral and trained on the man he hated.
When Blake frowned and stood up straighter, his mouth hanging open, the room simultaneously erupted in noise. She clenched her freezing hands in her lap, forcing herself to stay turned away from Jack and his screen.
“What the…” she heard Craig mutter and saw Val stare at the screen then at her, pointing her finger behind Sara’s back. She couldn’t process the noise and had no idea why everyone was so worked up. Had he flashed a naked photo of himself up there or something? She wouldn’t put it past him.
The distinct sound of dozens of females sighing in unison finally made her turn. The ringing sound in her ears increased as she gazed on her own name, flashed up on the screen in
enormous, Times New Roman letters. Sweat prickled her upper lip and her knees shook as the room narrowed to a tunnel connecting her eyes with the deep blue ones of the man at the podium. If it were possible to feel someone shooting eye-daggers into her chest, she’d be dead twice over from Heather’s glare.
“Sara Jane Thornton,” the screen screamed in red. She watched as the rest of the words appeared, as if being typed by some unseen hand. “Will You Marry Me? Jack”
By sheer instinct, she swiveled her head around to face her brother, who still stood at the back of the room. His mouth no longer hung open but the dismay in his bright green eyes was clear. She slumped back in her seat as her face flushed red and her heart started its erratic rhythm again.
It felt like hours before someone tapped her shoulder. Craig, eyebrows raised in question and gaze flat, nodded toward the front of the room. She looked at him, adrenaline rushing through her veins, then stood on wobbly legs. Jack had not spoken once. He just stood, hands in his pockets, watching her and ignoring the buzz and clamor he had caused in the room of two-hundred-plus professionals. She glanced over her shoulder at Blake, then once more at Craig who leaned back in his chair, legs stuck out in front of him, a nonchalant expression fixed firmly in place.
Sara barely remembered walking the twenty feet or so up to the front, willing her heart to slow, her body to stop overreacting, so she could formulate an appropriate response to his over-the-top, public proposal. Her mind and heart reeled. She felt the green monsters of nearly every female in the room pressing down on her and realized she had to walk right past Heather to reach the front. Each step brought her closer to the man she had confessed her love for a few weeks ago but whose very presence now made her want to stab him with a dull pencil.
What the fuck was he thinking, making a spectacle like this?
Her eyes burned as she kept them locked on his trying to determine if the whole thing were a dream. The sapphire blue of Jack’s gaze pulled her closer. When she finally arrived in front of him, she crossed her arms and cocked her head, bringing laughter from the crowd.
Without a word, Jack pulled a velvet box from his trouser pocket, opened it and went down on one knee. The room exploded with applause, chatter, and more female sighs. Sara stood, frozen, observing what must be a four-carat emerald-shaped diamond set in platinum. Visions of Jack with Heather on his lap and the memory of Craig’s strong body pressed to hers as he drove her away from that terrible party fought for attention in her brain. She met Jack’s eyes again.
“Really?” she mouthed, arms still crossed.
“Yes, really.” He got to his feet, took the ring out from its velvet nest, and held out his hand for hers.
Pushy bastard.
He pulled her close, and whispered in her ear. “You have to trust me this time. I mean it.”
Ignoring the near silence in the room full of people she pulled back and stared at him. “Why here?” she whispered. “What’s with the big gesture? It’s not fair. I feel a tad manipulated.”
He grinned. “Good. That’s my plan.” He shut off her response with lips that were firm and blessedly familiar. His tongue teased her a moment as cheers rang down around them. Sara felt her whole body lighten. Could this possibly be happening?
She broke the kiss, took a deep breath, placed her hand in his and nodded, as tears slipped down her cheeks. If it were possible, the room got even louder. Sara couldn’t hear anything but Jack as he slipped the obnoxious ring onto her finger then took her in his arms and kissed again so deeply her head spun.
“You won’t regret it, Sara,” he finally said, lips against her ear. “I promise. You can trust me. I promise that, too.”
He took her hand, and they faced the now standing group. The fact that the words “I love you,” were on her lips but unsaid did not escape her rattled brain, but there was time enough for that later she supposed. Her eyes scanned the crowd and she saw that Blake had left and that Craig was the only one not standing. He remained seated, legs still sprawled in front of him, arm hooked over the back of his chair, staring at Sara with unasked questions in his eyes.
She wiped her wet face. Then with a smile to the roomful of her colleagues, she gave Jack a peck on the cheek, and a slap on the ass to the delight of all, then returned to her seat. Her face burned and the enormous diamond felt heavy on her finger.
“I’d say, ‘get a room, you two,’ but from what I understand, you don’t usually require one,” Greg Stewart bellowed into the microphone causing a fresh round of laughter as Sara rolled her eyes and sat not meeting Craig’s eyes.
He leaned over to her. “Congratulations and good luck.” He pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, rose and left the room. Sara squeezed her eyes shut for a second, realizing she’d likely made the sort of fork-in-the-road decision one shouldn’t make in public. She was beyond pissed at Jack for putting her in such a spot. But at the same time, she could barely take her eyes off of him as he stood at the podium, still staring back at her.
Pats on her back and a table full of friends wanting to see her ring brought her back to the room as she stared at the gem on her left-hand ring finger. Smiling at the man she had agreed to marry in front of two hundred of her nearest and dearest, including ten or fifteen intensely jealous women, her mind spun but her heart sang as it resumed something resembling a normal rhythm.
Sara took deep breaths and let thoughts of weddings and dealing with her parents flit in and out of her head. When Jack looked straight at her during his presentation and winked she surprised herself by blowing him a kiss. Maybe this would be fine after all. Plenty of time for the “I love you’s” later.
She watched as her fiancée put the final flourishes on his presentation, descended the podium, and sat in the chair Craig had vacated. He leaned into her ear. “I love you, Sara. Thank you.” He kissed her hand then turned around to listen to the rest of the meeting, leaving her speechless and, for the first time since laying eyes on him, truly happy.
I hope you enjoyed reading Floor Time.
Sara & Jack’s story continues in Sweat Equity, Book Two.
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About the Author
Amazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Website
Read Liz on Radish
Also by Liz Crowe
The Stewart Realty Series
Floor Time
Sweat Equity - 4-25-19
Closing Costs - 5-9-19
Dual Agency - 5-23-19
Conditional Offer - 6-6-19
Escalation Clause - 6-20-19
Mutual Release - 7-4-19
Good Faith - 7-18-19
The Brewing Passion Series
Tapped
Lightstruck
Conditioned
Gravity
Infusion
Adjunct Lovers: A novella
The Love Brothers Series
Love Garage
Coach Love
Love Brewing
Safe Love
Family Love
The Turkish Delights Series
Turkish Delights
Blue Cruise
Tulip Prin
cess
The Diplomat’s Daughter
Flower Passage
Stand Alone Novels
Firebrew
Sweet. Bitter. Honey.
Cheeky Blonde
Caught Offside
