The sound of the back door opening interrupted my reverie. The head of a man appeared in the rear view mirror, ducking its way into the backseat of my car. Clutching the steering wheel tight, I whipped my head around, flashbacks of New York carjackings flashing through my mind.
“Uh, hello,” I sputtered.
“Hello,” he responded simply, flashing a small grin. Holy shit. The best looking carjacker in the history of ever.
My heart rate doubled, and I twitched, briefly considering opening the door and just tossing myself out onto the asphalt without so much as grabbing my purse. In the same millisecond, I noticed a number of things.
One. The man wasn’t just good looking, but hot. Like, so hot there’s no one out there to even compare him to. Broad shouldered, he had brown wavy hair and hazel eyes. His exact age was impossible to tell, but if my arm was twisted, I’d guess early thirties.
Two. Underneath his long black coat, he wore a suit — not exactly carjacking attire.
He winked at me as I gaped at him, then the passenger side door opened and Claire climbed in.
“Hey,” she beamed at me. “I see you two already met.”
Shame hit me like a tidal wave. God, I was stupid. The man was Claire’s “friend.” And I was ogling the shit out of him.
“Not really,” he responded. “Barely had time for hellos.”
His hand reached across the divide, and I took it, my flimsy shake no match for his strong one. He held mine for a few seconds longer than seemed necessary, this thumb gliding over my skin. I jerked away and blew out a breath. I needed to pull my crap together.
“Jason Adler,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Gwen.”
“H-how do you know my name?” I stuttered, my heart still beating fast from the shock of him suddenly appearing in my car. And, good God, that dimple.
He looked like I’d grown two heads. “Claire told me. She told me all about your family.”
“Oh, right,” I said, laughing at myself. I turned back around in the seat, feeling even dumber than I had thirty seconds before. I blamed exhaustion and the thimble full of whiskey as well as the shot of adrenaline when he’d yanked open my door.
Claire buckled her seat belt and unwrapped her thick infinity scarf. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Absolutely, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
I felt my sister’s eyes on me while I edged my way back into the flow of traffic.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“A little tired.” I smiled at her. “So how was your flight?”
I directed the question at both of them, briefly glancing at Jason in the rear view mirror. I was having trouble believing he was there, in my car, and I’d never so much as heard a peep about his existence from my sister. Usually, Claire let me know right away if she’s so much as going on a second date with someone. Keeping the presence of such an attractive man under wraps was unheard of.
“It was okay,” Claire answered, stifling a yawn. “The airports were crazy, of course, and everyone had so much luggage. It was like every person was doing Santa a favor and carting around his load for him.”
I glanced at her. “Sorry you had to wait so long.”
“It’s okay. Thanks for coming to get us. I’m sorry I had to call you away from work.”
I waved my hand. “I’m there all the time. It’s fine.”
I peeked up at the mirror again. Jason looked out his window, watching the lights of the cars in the lane next to us. Suddenly, his face turned to the front, and we locked eyes in the mirror. Ashamed at being caught looking at him, I whipped my eyes back to the road.
“It really is nice to finally meet you, Gwen,” he repeated, the words smooth and even.
I swallowed hard. Coming from between his lips, my name sounded like it was made out of syrup instead of syllables.
“Y-you too,” I stammered and tightened my hands on the wheel. “How do you guys know each other?”
“Work,” he answered. “We met when Claire started at the company last year.”
“Ah.” I nodded, not really sure what else to say.
Claire picked up the ball. “How’s business?” she asked, her voice a little louder than necessary.
“Busy.” I took the ramp onto the highway, merging with the unusually high amount of traffic.
“Are you having any special holiday hours?” she asked.
“No extensions, if that’s what you mean. I’m closing early on Christmas Eve, and we’ll be closed all day on Christmas, of course.”
But only because I’d be stoned by the town if I dared stay open during a holiday.
“Cool.” She smiled, but something about it was strained.
My stomach did a little flip. The tension in the car was unmistakable, but it wouldn’t have been that way if it was just my sister and me. Had I unwittingly found myself in the middle of a lover’s quarrel?
I resisted the urge to look in the mirror and catch another peek of Jason. If he was seeing Claire, ogling him would be so, so wrong.
“Jason’s never been to North Carolina,” Claire continued. “This is kind of an adventure for him. He grew up in New York.”
“Neat.” My overly sunny tone matched my sister’s, making me cringe.
Claire turned around in her seat to look at Jason. “Wait till you see Gwen’s shop. It’s the cutest thing in this town.”
“It’s a book store?” he asked.
“Book store coffee shop,” I corrected and looked back to Claire. “So I’ll drop you off at mom and dad’s?”
“Freddy’s is on the way there.”
“Yep, right where it’s always been,” I teased.
She wrinkled her nose at me. “We can wait in the car for a few minutes while you finish up.”
I scoffed. “It’ll take more than a few minutes. It’ll be at least an hour. Thanks, though.”
Now that I was feeling even more tired than when I got in the car, the idea of waking up early in the morning and finishing cleaning seemed unimaginable. It would be better to go ahead and get everything done tonight and try to sleep in an extra thirty minutes tomorrow.
“So,” I said, “How long have you guys been seeing each other?”
I glanced over at Claire again, expecting to see a pleased smile, but instead found eyes as wide as saucers. She stared at me, looking like I’d just said the most horribly offensive thing possible.
My stomach clenched. Uh-oh.
They’re not together, I realized. Or had just broken up like I’d suspected. Nice, Gwen. Real smooth.
Trying not to grit my teeth, I chanced a glance at Jason, expecting an equally appalled look, but found he was smiling — smiling as if he found something to be incredibly funny. Well, at least that was one of us.
“We work together,” Claire said in her “duh” voice, as if I’d already known this enlightening news. Everything about her was tense — her words, her body language.
Which was saying a lot, because hardly anything fazed Claire.
I licked my dry lips. Change the subject. Change the subject.
“Mom’s making her gingerbread this year,” I said, my voice so loud I sounded like a doofus. That was the best I could come up with? I stopped myself just in time from smacking my own forehead. Really. Mom makes her gingerbread every Christmas, and it’s good, but not so good it needs a formal announcement.
“Awesome,” Claire said, giving me another funny look. The tension was still in her voice, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at Jason again. Keeping my shoulders squared, I focused on driving. Once Claire and I managed to get alone, I could pump her for information on the man she’d brought home. Until then, it was probably best if I just kept my mouth shut.
Traffic got lighter once we took the exit into Crystal Brook. The car slid through downtown, passing right by the storefront of Freddy’s. The light bulb covered garlands the town had put on the telephone poles sparkled, lighting up the sidewalks that had mostly cleared of pedestrians.
Mom and Dad lived right downtown, in a two-story house built sometime in the late nineteenth century. It was a source of pride for them, and they took great pleasure in having one of the oldest homes on the block. My siblings and I couldn’t care less. Danny, Claire, and I had all grown up in the house, and the novelty had never been there for us to begin with.
“They’re calling for snow Christmas Eve,” Claire said as I pulled into the end of the driveway. “A lot of it.”
I wrinkled my nose. Snow had been nice when I lived in New York and walked or took the subway everywhere, but even an inch of snow in North Carolina could spell disaster. Most people — including myself — weren’t equipped to drive in such weather. The town also tended to freak out once even a single snowflake fell. Milk and bread disappeared from grocery store shelves like they were going out of style, and schools shut down immediately.
Both Mom and Dad’s cars were gone, but the porch light was on. Beyond it, the Christmas tree sparkled with white and blue lights through the wide windows.
“Wow,” Jason said. “What a beautiful home.”
I murmured a sound of acknowledgment and pulled the parking brake up on the car. “I’ll help you in.”
“We don’t need it,” Claire insisted.
I was already out and grabbing her suitcase. Jason closed the back door and stood silently looking up at the house in front of him. He was even taller than I’d thought he was, and the air around him seemed to throb with a strange energy.
Or maybe it was just me… and maybe the “strange energy” I was picking up on was nothing more than my own predilection for the tall, dark, and brooding types. Or it could have been the fact that it had been a long, long time since I’d felt the touch of any man unless that touch involved me handing him back his change.
I’m not gonna lie and say I was sad to realize Claire and her special guest were not an item after all. There was just enough light for me to surreptitiously check out his left hand. Yep. No ring.
Not that you’re looking, I reminded myself.
Which was true. I didn’t have time for dating. I also didn’t have the heart for it. Any time I got interested in a man, my number one priority became finding a way to shake the crush. Usually, it was pretty easy, but I was slightly afraid that with Jason it was going to be anything but. He was perfect wet dream material.
His eyes slowly drifted down from the house, landing on my face. With a start, I realized I was only standing a couple feet away, still staring at him.
I cleared my throat, trying to think of what to say. Something flashed in his eyes. Amusement?
Quickly, I turned away.
Claire took her suitcase handle from me and wrapped her other arm around my back to give me a squeeze. “Thanks again.”
I hugged her back. “Any time.”
“See you tomorrow morning?”
I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep them warm. “I’ll be at the shop all day.”
Her bottom lip stuck out slightly. “Darn.”
I grinned and wiggled my eyebrows. “You’ll just have to come in for some coffee.”
“Then I will.” She nodded. “And thank you. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her face brightened. “Hey, you know, I could come and help you clean up. It’s not like I have any meetings to rush off to.”
“No,” I firmly said. “You have a guest.”
Jason spoke up, his words just as slow and deliberate as they’d been in the car. “I don’t mind.”
I glanced at him, at the “I’m up for anything” expression on his face, then back to Claire.
My sister wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to hang around here all night anyway. Plus, it would give us the chance to show Jason your shop.”
I took in a slow breath. “Okay, fine. But you’re not helping me clean up. I’ll make you guys some drinks, then you can sit there and wait for me.”
Claire shrugged. “Good enough for me. Just give me a couple minutes inside.”
Maybe it was the silent second half of the ride or the fact that she was finally home, but her usual good mood seemed to be finally surfacing. Whatever had caused her irritation at the airport was long gone, and the Claire I knew and loved was back.
She reached over and took Jason’s suitcase. “I’ll take these inside. Be right back.”
I opened the car door back up and dropped inside, trying not to watch Jason as he walked around the front and took the vacated passenger’s seat. Turning the engine back on, I rubbed my hands together in front of the warm vent.
Jason shifted in his seat, getting comfortable. “You and Claire look even more alike than she said.”
At the house’s threshold, Claire pushed the front door open and shoved the suitcases in ahead of her. With blonde hair, brown eyes, freckles, and virtually the same height, the main thing that was different between the two of us was the fact that she had been born eighteen months before me.
“People mistake us for each other all the time,” I said and nodded heartily, as if just doing so was enough to continue the conversation. “By the way…”
He turned to look at me. In the dim light, it was hard to make out his eyes, but I could still tell they were fixed on mine.
“I’m sorry about that thing…” I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry about assuming you and Claire were together. Sometimes I don’t think before I speak. It’s just that, you know, she brought a guy home for Christmas, so…” I trailed off, hoping I didn’t sound absolutely ridiculous.
“Ah.” A smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “It’s quite all right. It seemed to ruffle her feathers. Just seeing that made it worth it.”
I laughed, feeling much better about the whole issue. “Yeah, it did. Sometimes I just say things. I forget to bring my filter with me when I go out.”
“So you’re a lot of fun at parties.”
I laughed again. “I don’t know if I would go that far…”
He smiled at me, and I started to smile back — but then stopped.
What was I doing?
Flirting, that’s what. And with my sister’s co-worker at that. I gently bit my tongue and looked down. It had been a long time since I’d had anything going on with a man. It had been a long time since I’d even flirted with someone. My stomach churned. I knew where flirtatious conversations led, and it was nowhere good.
Retreat, retreat, the alarm in my head blared. Escape before it’s too late.
I glanced at the front door. Claire still hadn’t come back. What was she doing in there? Baking some cookies to bring along for the car ride?
“So you guys work together,” I repeated, just to fill the silence and get away from talking about myself.
“I’m her boss.”
“Ah.”
So that doubly explained why she looked so freaked out when I asked how long they’d been seeing each other. The man wasn’t just a co-worker.
Why on Earth would Claire bring her boss home for Christmas? It seemed like the last thing a sensible person would want to do while on vacation.
Two memories flashed across my mind, both of them involving phone calls with Claire. She’d been working at her latest real estate job for close to a year, putting in more hours than any previous position. I knew this because on nights when she was stretched to her limit, she would call me, and I’d put her on speaker, letting her vent while I dusted shelves or stocked cups at Freddy’s.
Pompous. It was one word she used to describe her boss a few months back. And then, in a text only a few weeks ago, she called him an asshole.
I frowned. If he was such a pompous asshole what was she doing inviting him home for the holidays? At least knowing he’s a jerk would make it easier to avoid him.
I forced a smile, wondering if he was even remotely aware of the pieces connecting in my mind. A door slammed, and Claire hurried down the lighted front walk, coming to save me just in time.
Maybe she was exa
ggerating, I told myself. After all, Jason didn’t seem to be a dick. He was somewhat quiet but friendly enough. We all complain about our bosses. That’s just part of working with and for other people.
You just think he’s hot, I accused myself.
Okay. Fine. Maybe his attractiveness had a slight amount to do with me giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Claire opened the back door and climbed in. “Sorry that took so long.”
“It’s fine.” I put the car in reverse and headed for the shop, which was less than a few minutes away.
The tension seemed to be back, although I still didn’t know why. It made me wish I was going into Freddy’s by myself. My energy was quickly dwindling, and I didn’t have a shred of it left to spare on entertaining or worrying about my guests.
The street in front of the shop was almost completely clear, and I pulled into the spot right in front of the store. Scrambling out, I booked it across the sidewalk to unlock the front door, then held it for the other two to walk through.
When Jason passed by, his arm came within a couple inches of my chest. I inhaled, tasting the sweet mix of cedar wood and cardamom.
Was it weird that I had that good of a nose for scents? Maybe. Don’t look in my hall closet. There’s a whole shelf full of essential oils there.
Once we were all inside, I closed and locked the door. Behind me, Claire gasped. “Oh my God, Gwen! It’s so cute in here!”
With the soft lighting of the string of white Christmas lights in the window and the little lamp behind the counter, it was just bright enough that I could see both her and Jason’s faces.
“You’ve seen it,” I reminded her.
“Not since you added the couch. Or all the art.”
“Thanks. Those paintings are only here for December though. A new artist comes in every month.”
I tried to act nonchalant, but couldn’t help but be pleased by the compliment. Everything I had went into the shop — my time, energy, and money. Knowing someone I loved liked the place was a great thing.
Jason wandered toward the big front windows, his hands in his pockets as he gazed outside at the empty street. He turned around and made his way down the wall, checking out the abstract paintings placed at eye level. Each step was slow and sure, just like his way of speech. I wondered if he was that deliberate and certain when it came to everything he did.
Damaged (Crystal Brook Billionaires) Page 2
