Melt With Me: A With Me In Seattle Universe Novel

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Melt With Me: A With Me In Seattle Universe Novel Page 9

by Melissa Brown


  “Raise your glasses, gentlemen,” Scott said, lifting his bottle of Oktoberfest above the oak table of the sports bar. It was Monday night football and we were having our standard night of appetizers and catching up on life’s events with Dev.

  “This isn’t necessary.”

  “Hey, it’s not every day that one of us achieves a lifelong goal. It needs to be celebrated.”

  “In other words, congrats on the job, man. Proud of you,” Dev said, cutting Scott off and clinking his bottle to mine. I nodded in response, holding back a laugh. Scott sat with his mouth open, glaring at Dev.

  “What? You were taking way too long, dude.”

  Scott shook his head and touched his bottle to mine. “Cheers to you, man. Seriously, this is huge. I’m not embarrassed to say I’m proud of you. Really proud.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Did you tell Schaefer yet?” Dev asked.

  “Not yet.” I shook my head. “I’ll tell him Friday, just in case he’s pissed. I called Ms. Novak today to accept the position, and I told her I needed three weeks to wrap things up at Carlson anyway. Plenty of time to tell him.”

  “It’s weird though, I mean…won’t this first contract job be for Carlson anyway?” Scott asked.

  “Not anymore,” Dev deadpanned before popping a cheese curd into his mouth.

  “Nice.”

  I clenched my teeth and shrugged. “I mean, I feel bad about that. I do. But c’mon, it’s Ekisaito. This is the biggest opportunity of my life. I’m almost doubling my salary.”

  “Are you for real?” Dev asked, his eyes wide.

  “Now look who’s joining the conversation,” Scott said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not all about the money.”

  “It certainly doesn’t suck.”

  “It definitely doesn’t suck,” I agreed, nodding. “It’s more than that, though. When we discussed the type of coding I’ll be doing, the projects I’ll be working on. It’s huge, you guys. It’s a big step up and a ton more responsibility.”

  “Might mean a lot of long days.”

  “And travel.”

  “Travel?” Dev raised an eyebrow while dipping another curd into the ranch dressing at the center of the table. “Sweet.”

  “Where to?”

  “First major seminar is in San Francisco with the team I’ll be on. Just for a few days in February, though; nothing major. The timing just sucks right now.”

  “Why?” Dev pressed and I hesitated, opening my mouth to speak.

  “It’s the weekend of Valentine’s Day.”

  Dev swallowed hard, shaking his head. “Do not base any decisions on a girl. You know better than that.”

  “I’m not, I swear.” I shook my head, popping a pretzel in my mouth. “But things are…really good right now. We’re just getting started, and I don’t want to be away from her.”

  “Learn from my mistakes,” Dev grumbled. “All of them.”

  “C’mon, man. It wasn’t that bad,” Scott said. “You skipped one trip. One. And it was years before you guys broke up.”

  “Still,” Dev said, shaking his head and sipping his Tito’s and seltzer, “I could’ve gone to Vegas on my company’s dime. Instead, I stayed home to take care of She Who Must Not Be Named.”

  “She had the flu,” Scott protested.

  “Didn’t she end up in the hospital?” I asked.

  “Still.” Dev shrugged. “Still.”

  Our table was quiet and we allowed our attention to be diverted to the game, none of us knowing what to say. Talk of Trupti could still make Dev come unglued. I could only hope he’d eventually meet someone who could take his mind off of his broken heart. And his anger. He had definitely reached the anger stage in the mourning of that relationship.

  “The Seahawks are garbage tonight,” I said, scoffing at the halftime score. They were getting crushed by the Vikings, and we were all pretty pissed about it. I grabbed my phone, ready to text Maren. I hadn’t seen her since Saturday morning and was dying to kiss her lips again, to laugh with her and learn more about her. I was in serious Maren withdrawal.

  “Don’t even think about ditching us, man. I don’t care if they’re losing 49-zip, you’re here until it ends.”

  I put my hands in the air like the busted man that I was. “Look, her shop is just a few blocks away. I’ll be back when halftime’s over.”

  “Liar.”

  “I swear.”

  “Let him go,” Scott said. “I’m sure he wants to tell her the news.”

  “Finally, a voice of reason.” I put a twenty-dollar bill on the table and grabbed my leather jacket. Dev grabbed the twenty and held it up in the air, shaking his head.

  “If you’re coming back, there’s no need for this.” He handed it back to me, a smug look on his face. “Right?”

  I shook my head, knowing I’d been caught. I patted him on the shoulder. “Right. I’ll be back in twenty. Plenty of time for you to check Tinder.”

  Dev lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Ah, that’s right. I have a bunch of messages in my inbox. See ya.” He grabbed his phone and got right to work. Scott chuckled before giving me a wave and pulling out his phone as well.

  With an air of excitement, I left the bar and walked to Maren’s shop. It was just about closing time, and I thought it would be a cool surprise to just show up instead of texting. I couldn’t wait to see her expression when I walked through the door.

  And that expression did not disappoint. I paused for just a moment, looking through the shop window. Maren was alone at the cash register her blond hair falling past her shoulders as she dusted the countertops with a feather duster. I could tell she was humming to herself the way her lips were pressed together, her expression carefree. When I walked through the door, she turned her head and lit up from head to toe the second we made eye contact. With wide eyes, she bounced on her toes for just a second before walking quickly to greet me.

  “Hey! What a nice surprise!” she said, kissing me on the lips and lingering for just a moment. She smelled liked blueberries, lemon, and vanilla. I took some of her hair in my hand and sniffed. “You must have poured today. You smell like so many different delicious things.”

  “I did,” she said with a grin before planting one last kiss on my greedy lips. “I’m just about to close up. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m down the block with Dev and Scott.”

  “Ah, Monday night football.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Halftime?” She raised one eyebrow.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Lucky guess.” She walked past me and flipped the sign in the window to CLOSED. The lock clicked beneath her fingertips, and she turned toward me, falling back to lean against the large wooden door.

  “Long day?”

  She nodded. “’Tis the season.”

  “It’s not even Thanksgiving yet.”

  “My shoppers start early. Don’t get me wrong, it’ll be even crazier come Black Friday.”

  “You must be having a huge sale that day.”

  “I do, but I don’t open early. Screw that noise.”

  I chuckled, enjoying her sassy sense of humor. The more I learned about Maren, the more I was drawn to her complexities. She was sweet with a side of attitude, an incredibly smart entrepreneur who was admittedly clueless in the world of sports, an Ed Sheeran fanatic who was also addicted to Better Than Ezra. She was like an alluring mosaic, a composite of so many intricate qualities. And they all came together to form the beauty that was Maren.

  “And I will never open on Thanksgiving Day,” she continued. “I mean, it’s my holiday too.”

  “Makes sense to me.” I paused, tapping a finger to my chin. “Speaking of which,” I said, walking toward her and extending my arm. She placed her hand in mine and squeezed. I loved how fluid our movements had become in such a short amount of time. “Is it too soon to ask you to come?”

  “To Thanksgiving dinner?” she asked.

 
“Yeah.”

  She clenched her teeth. “Oh man, I’d love to, I really would. It’s just…since my sisters live far away, I’ve always spent it with Lyra. We do a whole Friendsgiving thing. I’d invite you, but she’s not exactly dating anyone at the moment.”

  “Naw, it’s cool. I’ll be with my folks; my mom makes a big thing of it and she asked if you’d be joining us.”

  Maren bit down on her pale pink bottom lip. “What time do you eat?”

  “Pretty late, not until seven. Why?”

  “Lyra and I eat super early and then veg out all night. Maybe I could come by for dessert. I can make my famous butterscotch pecan pie.”

  “Butterscotch and pecans?” I asked, my voice boisterous as I pulled her in close and wrapped my arms around her waist. “How can I say no to that?”

  “You can’t.” Up on her tip toes, Maren kissed me on the nose.

  “Will Lyra mind?” I asked, not wanting to step on any toes. Lyra was her closest friend and biggest protector. She was the last person in Maren’s life I wanted to piss off.

  “I’ll talk to her tonight. I’m heading over to help her study.”

  “Study?”

  “She’s getting her master’s. Don’t ask me anything more. I might cry.”

  “Uh-oh. Why do I get the feeling she’s planning to move far away or something?”

  “No, nothing like that, thank God!” Maren shook her head. “But I won’t have her here much longer…here at the store, I mean. She’s going to be a librarian. She finishes her coursework this spring.” Maren’s eyes grew wet with tears.

  “Well, that’s exciting…but probably stressful, huh?” I placed one hand on her cheek and stroked her soft skin gently.

  “She’s irreplaceable. Where am I going to find someone who cares as much about this place as I do? I can’t. I won’t.”

  “You’ll find someone.”

  “I know. I just hate thinking about it.”

  “And yet you’re still helping her study. You’re a good friend.”

  “I do what I can.” She glanced down at her watch. “When is halftime over?”

  I leaned in close, kissing her neck just beneath her chin and felt her shiver beneath me. “What halftime?”

  “Hmmm,” she moaned softly. “You keep doing that and I’ll have to cancel on Lyra.”

  I had no intention of stopping. Kissing Maren was something I’d wanted to do for two days. Slowly, I made my way from her neck to her luscious lips. She kissed me in return, running her hands through my hair. Goosebumps jumped up on my arms. She was like sexy electricity, awakening every nerve in my body.

  “Where’s your phone?” I murmured between kisses. She groaned, pulling her head back and looking up at the ceiling. I returned to her neck, nibbling and sucking at her pale skin.

  “I can’t cancel; she needs me. And your friends are waiting for you. I don’t want them to hate me.”

  “No one could ever hate you.”

  “Not true.” She laughed. “I’m serious, though. As tempting as you are, I can’t let her down.”

  “Okay,” I said, reluctantly pulling away and staring into her deep brown eyes. She narrowed her eyes and pounced on me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and planting her lips on mine. We were nothing but tangled lips, tongues and moans as she wrapped her legs around me.

  “You’re killing me,” I said when she finally pulled back, both of us panting.

  “I know.” She laughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  I walked her to the cash wrap and placed her gingerly on the counter. Taking a few steps back, I ran my hand through my hair. “I’m not complaining, believe me.” I paused for a moment, attempting to calm myself down.

  What is this woman doing to me?

  “I do have some news.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asked, jumping down from the counter.

  “I took the job with Ekisaito Games. I start the second week of December.”

  “Peter, that’s awesome! I’m so excited for you.”

  “Thanks, I’m really happy. And, I have something to ask you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you be my date to the Christmas party?”

  “At your new job?”

  I nodded. “It’s the Saturday after I start. I know it’s crazy, but you can help me remember people’s names. It’ll be fun. They rent out the entire ballroom of the Four Seasons.

  Maren raised an eyebrow. “Swanky. Do I need to dress up?”

  “I’ll find out. Probably nothing formal or anything, just a dress. One that shows a lot of leg.”

  She shook her head with a smile. “Oh really?”

  “Mmm-hmm. That was actually on the invitation. Date must wear short skirt. I’ll show you.” I started patting my clothes. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

  “Well,” Maren said, taking my hand in hers. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  This time, it was my turn to place a gentle kiss on her nose. “Thanks.”

  She sighed. The same sweet sigh she made when we woke up together in her apartment. I was starting to live for Maren’s adorable sighs.

  “I’d better get back. Dev’ll kill me if I’m late.”

  Maren pretended to pout. “All right. I guess I’d better close this place up and get to Lyra’s.”

  “Oh shit, do you need help? I’m such a jackass. I didn’t even offer to help you.”

  “No, no.” She waved me away. “It’s totally fine. I’ve been restocking all evening. I just have to close out the register and take out the trash.”

  Before she could say another word, I grabbed the trash bag from the garbage bin. “I’ve got this; you work on the register.”

  “Thanks. Dumpster’s in the back.”

  I dumped the trash and walked back to the front of the shop. “Can I walk you to your car, at least? Make sure you’re safe.”

  “I have pepper spray.”

  “And?’

  “And I can take care of myself.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “But thanks for the offer. I do it all the time. And I’m parked right out front…and there are cameras everywhere. I promise I’m safe.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Get out of here right now, Mr. McTavish. I’ve got shit to do.”

  I placed one more kiss on her beautiful face and headed for the door. I turned back just once. “I’ll call you.”

  “You’d better.”

  Chapter 11

  MAREN

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this tired. My muscles ached and my feet throbbed, but it was the Sunday before Thanksgiving, before Black Friday and before my biggest sale of the year. Lyra and Cheryl had stocked all of the bookshelves and as many candles as they could get their hands on. But it wasn’t enough. The weekend had drained all of our stock, and I was the only one who was allowed to make new ones.

  With a sigh, I picked up my phone knowing what I had to do. I really didn’t want to cancel on Peter, but I had to. Running my fingers through my hair, I searched my brain for an alternative. I hadn’t seen him in three days, and I was missing him like crazy. But there was no denying that the shop demanded my attention. Peter respected and appreciated my entrepreneurial spirit, and I knew he would never give me a hard time. Jackson loved guilt trips, but Peter was more relaxed. He went with the flow; he supported. Yes, things were still new, but I hoped these were character traits rather than subjective compromises in his personality for the sake of winning over a new girlfriend.

  Not that I was his girlfriend…yet. I was ready for us to make things official, but I didn’t want to rush Peter in case he had any hesitations. He was pretty open and honest with his feelings, so I knew it would come up eventually. At least I hoped it would. The idea of being Peter’s girlfriend made me happier than I even wanted to admit. I was falling fast…and hard. He was like no one I’d ever met. He was smart, kind, and really funny. His jokes bordered on the slightly nerdy, but somehow I found his “dad
jokes,” as he called them, endearing—probably because I knew they were passed down from Burton. And Burton owned a special place in my heart.

  He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, you.”

  I heard his voice and the guilt mounted inside my chest. I really, really didn’t want to cancel.

  “Hey.”

  “Uh-oh. What’s wrong?” I loved that after just a few weeks, he could already detect a problem. “I sense a disturbance in the force.”

  Yep, dad joke.

  I grinned and thought it might soften the blow if I geeked out for just a second. “Got it right, you did,” I said, doing my best Yoda impression. Peter cracked up.

  “I can’t believe you just did Yoda. It wasn’t bad either.”

  I smiled. “My favorite Star Wars character, he is.”

  Instead of laughing, I heard Peter inhale before breathing heavily into the phone. It sounded just like Darth Vader.

  “Oh man, I think we may have just crossed into total nerd-dom.”

  Peter laughed. “Yeah, sorry about that. I couldn’t resist.”

  “Totally fine,” I said with a smile. “I’m so sorry to do this, though.”

  “You have to work.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Had a feeling. Black Friday’s coming up, and I know you were slammed all weekend. You need to pour, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Well…” Never had I ever allowed anyone to help me make my candles. It was my time for just me. But the idea of not seeing Peter for a few more days was making me want to bend my normally stringent policies.

  “I can be your assistant. I’ll put out the jars, put labels on—”

  “Will you wash the pouring pots?”

  “Sure!”

  “You sound way too enthusiastic about washing dishes.” I chuckled.

  “I mean, I get to be with you, right? It doesn’t matter what I’m doing.”

  “Are you always this sweet?”

  There was a short pause. “I just like you… a lot.”

  There was a brief silence as I soaked in his words. They were simple but lovely, and they made me feel all warm inside. “I like you too. And I appreciate the help, really.”

 

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