I halted, fingers poised above the keyboard, waiting to enter my password. Shit. He’d said one sentence, and I had to tell him no. Fuck. Maybe I didn’t have to tell him. I could show him the listings, spend more time with him. Spend the night.
Good God, what was I thinking?
I swiveled toward him. “I’m sorry, Joel, that won’t work.”
His head jerked, nearly unnoticeable, but the reaction was there. “Excuse me?”
I was surprised. Joel gave me the impression he was always in control. Always ten steps ahead of his opponent. Ready for anything. We’d spent a matter of hours together, so this clarified that I obviously knew nothing about the man, nor how to read him either. “Lavender Shores has very strict guidelines, regulations, and laws around anything business-related that comes into town. As you know, we’re surrounded on all sides by Point Reyes National Seashore, so there’s no place to grow. We can only have one business of each type. We already have a coffee shop in town and a bakery.”
Joel stared at me as if I’d spoken another language. He opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again. “You’re telling me that since there’s a coffee shop in town I don’t have the option of even looking at property for one?”
I blinked. I couldn’t believe he’d come so far—to the point he planned on finding a property in one day—and hadn’t done his research on the town to know this. “Well, I can show you property, but it won’t help you. You won’t be allowed to buy it with the intent of opening another coffee shop.”
His eyes darted back and forth as he thought. His tongue flicked out to lick his lower lip—a motion I’d never be able to see anyone else make without thinking of him. Suddenly, his eyes cleared, he looked at me, and his smile returned. “Well, it doesn’t have to be a coffee shop. Why don’t you show me the best little places in town that are zoned for commercial, and I’ll go from there, come up with a business that Lavender Shores doesn’t have.” He stopped talking, like he had nothing else to say, which made absolutely no sense. And he clearly was waiting for me to respond.
“You want me to show you property, and you’ll just pick an approvable business later.” I lifted a brow. “Is that what you’re saying?”
He nodded, looking relieved. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. Perfect.”
“But don’t you—”
“Andrew,” he cut me off. “I’ve already lost time this morning with Regina, and then I’ll lose several hours this afternoon while you’re with other clients. Do you mind just showing me property, and I promise that I’m capable of coming up with a satisfactory business?”
His tone wasn’t harsh, but I couldn’t help but feel reprimanded. I didn’t like it. I straightened my shoulders and turned back to the computer. “You got it. Available properties coming right up.”
Joel reached across the desk and placed his hand over my forearm. Despite my hurt feelings, I looked at him, right into those green eyes, and his walls were down.
“Andrew, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. Between my fa—uhm… business has been complicated lately. I’m just stressed. But none of that is your fault. At all. I’m the dipshit who showed up and hadn’t read the fine print.” He squeezed. “Sorry, really.”
I softened. He obviously meant it, but I felt a couple of bricks of my own walls go up. “Thanks, no problem.” I couldn’t help but smile at him before looking back at the monitor. “Let’s get going, then.”
One of the problems with limited space was the limited options. Obvious, to be sure, but it was a problem. Especially for Joel. Even as I looked at the two available places, I knew he wouldn’t like them. They weren’t bad; they just weren’t right. Both were too small and didn’t have much flexibility outside of being tiny little stores. One had been a souvenir shop until a month ago when the owner decided he was tired of small-town life. The other had been a little bookstore, but Ms. Jenkins had passed two weeks ago and the place was still filled with enough books to stock a store three times its size. But since Joel didn’t know what kind of shop he wanted to open, maybe I was wrong. Hell, maybe he’d just step into the musty bookstore and decide he wanted to sell books. I couldn’t see him doing such a thing, but what did I know?
We went to the bookstore first. Both shops were on the same block as Lavender Realty, so we didn’t have far to walk. We were silent on the way, which made the distance seem longer.
Joel took one look around and turned to face me. “This is it?”
I nodded.
“This is a shoebox.”
“Yeah, pretty small. But you’re not sure what kind of business you’re running, so maybe a bookshop?”
He looked around again, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and turned back to me. “I don’t think the smell of used books is a lifestyle choice I’m inclined to make. Maybe something a little less dusty?” He gave a small smile, relaxing me a bit.
“Okay the other one is just two doors down.” I locked up, and we started walking again. I paused at the store next door. “Oh, this is Lavender Leaves, er, the coffee and tea shop I was telling you about. Want to go in?”
He glanced up at the sign above the door, clearly not liking the name, and then peered in through the large window. Despite his tendency to wall up, it was so easy to see when he was thinking. I wasn’t sure what it was, but the wheels were definitely turning. He looked back at me as he readjusted the strap of his satchel. “No, that’s okay. I’ll go in and do some work on my laptop while I wait for you to finish up with your clients after me.”
Shit. Right. There were only two properties. Well, there was at least dinner. If I didn’t thoroughly piss him off with the corner shop.
He wasn’t pissed when we went in, but he wasn’t thrilled either. “This is bigger but still way too small for what I’m thinking.” He turned sharply toward the wall, his eyes narrowing. “Wait a minute, that’s the coffee shop next door, so it would be easy to tear out this wall or put in arched doorways.” He looked back at me again. “I bet I know what you’re going to say. No tearing down walls or combining businesses.”
I tried for an apologetic smile. “Yeah. To both.”
He let out an exasperated sigh and checked his watch. “It’s only ten; we’ve got lots of time still. What’s next?”
I hated to do this. “Actually, that’s all there is.”
He gaped at me. “What?”
“Yeah, sorry.” God, this was embarrassing. “I was hoping it would take longer and then you’d still need to see some showings this afternoon. Although I don’t know why I thought you’d spend two hours in a tiny bookshop.”
Disappointment flickered then vanished as he stepped closer. “Yeah? Keeping stuff from me to occupy my time, Mr. Kelly?”
My heart sped up. “Yeah. I guess so.”
He stretched out a hand, hooked a finger through my belt loop, and pulled me to him. “Not very professional of you.”
I hesitantly put my hand on his waist. “True. But my boss isn’t next door at the moment, so…”
Then his lips were on me, as were his hands.
All my thoughts of property and sales and lackluster real estate flitted away. I groaned and leaned into him, ready to let him take me, right there despite the large window to the street.
He pulled back abruptly. “Wait a minute.” He looked at me in confusion. “I thought you had other clients at noon.”
“I do.”
“Well, are you showing them these two properties or something else?”
Okay, apparently thoughts of real estate had fled my head. It was a struggle to focus again. Why the fuck were we talking when we should be fucking? “Uhm, no. Something else.”
“Why can’t I see that?”
“Why would you want to? They’re not businesses.” I realized what he was thinking when he continued to give me that confused look. “Oh, I also do residential real estate. I met a lesbian couple in San Fran the last time I was there. They wanted me to show them around
rather than Regina since we already know each other.”
He processed that for a few seconds. “So there are a lot more residential properties available than commercial, I assume?”
“Yeah, even though we’re small, the population turns over almost twenty percent every few years, so with a couple thousand folks, that keeps us pretty busy. People move to Lavender Shores and are initially captivated by how beautiful everything is, but after a bit, they want a Target or a mall, and they move back to the city.”
Again, he was visibly planning and readjusting. I wished I could hear his thought process; it looked intense. Finally, he spoke. “How likely is it for one of those residential properties to get switched to commercial?”
He kept making me tell him no. He was going to start associating me with that word, which was the last thing I needed. “Sorry. That’s next to impossible. It would have to go through the city council, but I’ve never seen them make a decision like that.”
“If it’s a matter of cost, a charge to convert or whatever—”
“It isn’t.”
His lips tightened, and he looked around the space again. “Well, this is better than the bookstore in any case.”
Out of the blue, the thought hit me. So completely obvious I had no idea how it had failed to occur to me before. Although, if it had, I’d have been a nervous wreck the entire morning, more than I already was.
If Joel was opening a business here, then he was going to live here.
Joel was going to live in Lavender Shores.
Holy shit.
The way he’d made it seem, the night before was nothing more than a hookup. Like there was little chance we’d ever see each other again. But if he was looking to start a business in Lavender Shores, then he was planning on moving here.
Maybe I’d read him wrong. Maybe he was thinking… hoping…
Holy fuck.
“Andrew, are you okay? You’re looking pale.”
I tried to speak but couldn’t. If I did, I’d say something so ridiculously inappropriate and cross so many emotional boundaries that I’d scare him off forever. But holy shit. I held up a finger.
However, if I couldn’t find him anything good, then that chance was out the window. Completely. We’d be back to a hookup.
What was wrong with me? I’d been fine with that a moment ago, and now what? Picturing him in town, picturing him with me. Picturing every night in his bed?
Yep. That’s exactly what I was envisioning. Which proved I’d lost my fucking mind. I didn’t know him at all. Maybe he was crazy. He’d have to be crazy to buy a commercial property without even knowing what kind of business he’d be allowed to open.
But he’d fucking live here!
And I wanted that. Though it probably made me crazier than he was for his insane business idea.
Fuck.
The answer was obvious. Completely. Obvious and wrong. Gilbert would regret it if he sold. I’d been telling him that for years. But it had been years, and he was no closer to changing his mind. If anyone was going to take the place over, I’d want it to be Joel. Which, again, made me crazy. It was one night. He could move here and never want to see me again, and boy, would that make for a fun life.
Joel squeezed my shoulder. “Seriously, Andrew, are you okay?” His voice was heavy with concern. “You’re breathing like you’re about to have a panic attack.”
That’s because I was. Whatever. The care I saw in his eyes in that moment made up my mind, however crazy it was.
“Yeah, I am.” This would work. I could feel it. “Say, do you mind if we hit the pause button and resume this after my other showings?”
He let go of my shoulder, his expression guarded again. “Oh, sure. Sorry if I was too intense with all this. I just get a thought in my head and latch on to it. I wasn’t trying to pressure you. I know it’s not your fault there’s not enough property available.”
“Oh no, it’s not that. I just need to call my best friend.” Shit, I really was doing this. “I have an idea about a property for you, but I don’t want to get your hopes up, and I need to speak to him first. If I can get ahold of him, I’ll probably have an answer for you this afternoon.”
Joel’s eyes widened, and a hopeful grin brightened his face. “Well, sure. Thank you. I’ll be at the coffee shop around five. Waiting.”
“Okay.” Without thinking, I leaned over, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and turned to leave. As I did, I realized what I’d just done.
That wasn’t a kiss of a hookup or the preamble to a hot fuck. That was a “see you in a little bit, honey” kind of kiss. The kind I wanted to give him every day before he left for work.
Holy. Shit. I was screwed. Insane and screwed.
I’d known him for less than a hot minute, and I was imagining a life like fucking Donna Reed?
“Andrew.” Joel’s voice stopped me as I opened the door and stepped out.
I looked over my shoulder at him.
He was grinning. “You might wanna let me get out of here before you lock up.”
“Oh right. Sorry.” I felt my cheeks heat, and I stepped aside to let him pass. “I guess I got excited.”
“It’s all good.”
I locked the door, but before I could turn away to head back to the office, he gave me another kiss. Right on the street for everyone to see. Exactly the same kiss I’d given him. “See you in a bit.”
Six
Joel
Lavender Shores allowing only one of each type of business was rather brilliant. It pretty much guaranteed each business’s success. If there was another option for coffee, I sure as fuck wouldn’t have stayed in Lavender Leaves for another moment. The place was sickeningly cute but kind of perfect for the area. I couldn’t have designed it much better, which was annoying. The coffee and pastries were spot-on as well. They’d give our little coffee shop a run for its money, which sounded like a fun time to me.
I’d nearly panicked when Andrew informed me of the “one kind of shop in the town” ordinance, and then the solution hit. Simple. Buy them out. Money wasn’t an object where Harvest Coffee, or my father, was concerned. If it had been any other real estate agent, I’d have gotten up and left their office with little more than a wave and gone straight to the source. But touring properties meant more time with Andrew.
After five seconds of talking to the owner of Lavender Leaves, an old queen who’d grown up here, apparently, he insisted there was no amount of money he’d take for his perfect little coffee shop. I’d dropped numbers on him that would’ve made any other business owner anywhere else head to the door and put up their Closed sign. This old guy just looked at me like I was crazy.
And thanks to the city ordinance, I had to sit in Lavender Leaves, rejected, if I wanted to have coffee and internet. I supposed I could’ve gone back to the bed-and-breakfast, but truth be told, I hoped the guy would look over at me every once in a while, see nothing but a big dollar sign, and cave.
I was getting close to giving up on that notion.
I used the time to read the entire memo on Lavender Shores. I’d already been certain, but every new line solidified this was a test. No, not a test. The test. This was it. I had no doubt. If I closed this deal, I’d finally be named the next in line to run the Harvest Corporation. Test or not, it was also the ultimate compliment. Starting this new offshoot of the business wasn’t anything my father would risk with someone he thought might not be able to pull it off. Which, normally, I’d fully embrace without reservation. However, Lavender Shores was a fortress. One I wasn’t entirely certain I could conquer. I didn’t remember the last time I’d had that sensation.
The place was a gold mine. Literally.
The town was founded in 1943; all the land around it had been made into Point Reyes National Seashore in 1962, confining the two-and-a-half miles of town to its borders; it could never get bigger. To top it off, it was surrounded by more than sixty-five thousand acres of some of the most beautiful protected land in
California—forests, beaches, and cliffs, with tons of wildlife. It was heaven. Tourist heaven. And just like fucking Lavender Leaves, if you got a shop here, you were set. It was the perfect place for the flagship store of Daddy’s new coffee shop chain.
The further I read into the memo, the more doubt crept in that I could pull this off. The place was like a cult. They had rules on everything. All houses built or refurbished after the 1960s had to be constructed in Craftsman, Tudor, Usonian, or Victorian styles. Everything. Property values here were as high as they were in LA and San Francisco. Higher, actually. Provisions were made for original families and for newcomers with jobs in the helping fields, but other than that, if you planned on moving to Lavender Shores, you’d better be born with a silver spoon. Which, I’d been. But I wasn’t looking to move, just open the damn shop and be done with it. We’d stick whomever we moved here to run it as part owner on the title and get around the whole “you have to live here to work here” shit.
Cult. It was a damn cult.
A cult that I needed to crack if I was finally going to stop being my father’s bitch.
Hopefully, whatever property Andrew had up his sleeve would work. Maybe it would be even better than Lavender Leaves. If not, we’d have to pay a fortune to this coffee shop queen either to buy his place or simply to buy his retirement. He’d have a price; they always do.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Andrew was part of the test. If my father could force himself to incorporate a gay element, that is. Andrew seemed made specifically for my temptation. Everything, from his perfect body and face to his abilities in bed, was… well, perfect. No other word for that man. The kicker, though, the things that told me I was in trouble—that ridiculous blush he kept getting when he was nervous or aroused. The way his eyes darted away when things got too intense but then came back to me, looking hopeful and smitten. They nearly killed me.
The Palisade (Lavender Shores) Page 5
