Timberline

by Skye McNeil

  “I hope he likes the Amazonian vibe.” She grabbed her clutch. Her time in Cancun had turned her into a caramel delight.

  She patted Bleu’s head. “Don’t wait up for me. I may bring home a horrendous valet,” she said, but knew it wouldn’t happen. The man she wanted was out of her reach. Sure, she could’ve made the move and been the bigger person, but it wasn’t her style. If editing hundreds of romance books taught her anything, the man was the one in charge of groveling for love. She frowned at the predisposed idea. No one should have to grovel for something free. No, her reliance on love stories was ill-fated and one she swore to never compare to her relationships ever again.

  Her phone rang, informing her the car Brecon sent was ready for her downstairs. Closing the apartment door, she took a cleansing breath. No, she wouldn’t have drunken sex with a hottie with a body tonight, or any night. Her body craved a tattooed barista almost as much as her soul.

  The ride to the gala was anything but eventful. Other than an ambulance, the town car saw no action. Jessie was fine with it, too. Calm and steady was what she needed. No surprises. No men to sweep her off her feet. Her and work.

  When the driver opened the door for her, Jessie’s face was accessorized with a smile joyful enough to brighten the dark evening. A good impression was what Brecon insisted upon, and she wasn’t about to let them down. She already lost enough for the summer.

  “Jessie,” a vibrant voice called as she stepped away from the car.

  “Bridget?” She found the beautiful blonde by the entrance of the building. “What are you doing here?” she asked, walking the red carpet leading into the event.

  Bridget gave Jessie a brief hug. “Damn, you look hot! I’ve never seen you like this.” She reviewed her boss like a critic. “Yeah, it’ll work. I’m so glad you didn’t bail.”

  “What are you talking about? Why would I bail?” Jessie’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you even here?” The woman’s presence perturbed her all at once.

  “Oh, right, that.” Bridget lowered her voice and fluffed her hair. She looked like a modern-day Cinderella with her blue gown. Before she could stop, Jessie envied her carefree attitude. “They asked me to come. I guess they are a little suspicious you’ll scare off a best-selling author.”

  Jessie straightened her shoulders and tried to let the brothers’ lack of faith roll down her back. Nope. She couldn’t. “What do you mean?”

  After the two women passed through the entry decorated with exquisite measures and into the museum, Bridget answered, “You rejected one of the biggest authors of the year during the last month. They’re not happy about it.”

  Shaking her head, Jessie couldn’t believe it. “No, not possible.”

  “Well, it is.”

  Grabbing a glass of champagne from a waiter moving through the room, Jessie’s stomach clenched. Had she been so distracted by her fall-out with Asher that she tossed a well-known author’s manuscript out the door? She took a long sip of the bubbles. “It’s more than possible,” she reflected.

  Bridget let out a stifled harrumph. “The good news is, I heard the author is here tonight and willing to give Brecon another chance. It is the reason the brothers asked you to come after all.”

  Eyeing her assistant, Jessie found it hard to believe Brecon sent Bridget along tonight to make sure she succeeded. What further baffled her was the woman’s intimate knowledge of the rejected writer. Bridget was her assistant, not the Miller’s. “Are you sleeping with one of the brothers?”

  “Eww, no,” gasped Bridget in horror. Her face screwed into a tight pinch. “Disgusting in every way possible.”

  “Then how did you—” Jessie’s question was cut off by an announcement from a woman at the stage. A hush fell over the room as the first words left the woman’s mouth.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out this evening to support the families of the wounded and fallen soldiers of our Armed Forces.”

  A tingle crept up Jessie’s spine at the event’s description. She didn’t bother to ask the Miller brothers what type of gala she was attending. It hadn’t seemed relevant at the time. Turning to her left to whisper a question to Bridget, Jessie was interrupted when the woman continued, her voice absorbing attention.

  “I am proud of this charity’s success almost as proud as I am of the founder. Your donations are appreciated.” The woman dressed in a pearl white gown smiled. “Feel free to read one of the pamphlets our host provided. The main event will begin momentarily.” The crowd clapped in polite manner before the string quartet in the corner resumed a song.

  “Okay, super, now, where is the writer?” Jessie wondered impatiently. The sooner she could schmooze this guy to Brecon, the sooner she could drown in chocolate wrappers. A charity gala for soldiers and their families, while commendable, hit too close to a subject she’d rather not explore.

  “Hmm, I don’t know.” Bridget perused the room and her eyes lit up. “But the guy over there looks rich and in need of a date.” She grinned at her boss.

  Jessie eyed the man in question. His fashionable suit and crisp white shirt were the tip of the debutant iceberg. His cool green eyes looked familiar somehow, but his shock of black hair reiterated that not every man in the world had to remind her of Asher. “He’s decent.”

  Bridget snorted and straightened her blonde curls. “What? Are you kidding? He’s like a taller version of Ian Somerhalder.” She squeezed Jessie’s hand when a sly smile crossed the man’s face. Jessie squinted when she spotted a dimple on the right side of his face. “I think he saw me. I’m going to introduce myself. I’ll check on you later.”

  Frowning at the obvious abandonment for a piece of ass, scrumptious as he may be, Jessie scanned the room as well. It was filled to the brim with socialites in fancy suits and extraordinary gowns. She kept expecting to see a tiara thrown in there somewhere. It amazed her the number of well-off people in the area. It seemed she wasn’t in the right line of work.

  Opting against snatching a bite to eat from the refreshment table, Jessie wove through the crowd. She realized more than one publishing house had appeared to offer contracts to the night’s host. Jessie walked with determination through the well-preened agents from every top publisher in the City. If there was going to be a throw down, she would win without a doubt. The other agents cared too much about money to put up a fight. Jessie could offer whatever the writer wanted. The Miller brothers promised as much, and she would win the man over at any cost. Her job was on the line and she rather liked it, except for the romance aspects.

  “Have you read the material for tonight?” one of the agents asked a Class D celebrity. “I heard it is a preface to his latest work. Every reviewer in the city is here to get their hands on it.”

  The woman dressed in fuchsia reached for the pamphlet. “Not yet. It must be good if people are flocking to a charity to get a view of it.”

  “Oh, it is. The plate fee was over $500 for tonight’s event,” the publishing agent advised. “If I spot the man, I’m going to beg for a contract.”

  Jessie pushed past them. So, the writer was showing off a bit by letting other agents promote it, was he? It was a smart move. I would guess it was conjured by his publicist. If the work was good enough to drool over, she would be insane to let him slip through her fingers.

  Hearing a familiar tune from the quartet, Jessie spotted a table displaying the author’s latest sneak peek. Snatching up one of the booklets, she scanned the red title which had the room buzzing with anticipation.

  Opening to the first page, she was amazed at the forward. Fifty-percent of book sales would go to tonight’s charity. “How bold of him. He must think it’s going to be a chart topper.”

  The familiar voice of Dottie Willis, an agent from the main competing publisher to Brecon, caught Jessie’s ears, so she skirted off to the side of the room. Chatting it up with Dottie would set her mood to dismal. The woman was abhorrent and had stolen several authors in the last year alone.
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br />   Once she reached a corner of the museum, Jessie made sure she wasn’t near another annoying agent before studying the calligraphy. Cracking the spine on the initial pages, she prepared herself for a dull, yet satisfactory glance into the author’s masterpiece.

  Battlefield scars don’t come close to what she did to my heart. Love at first sight wasn’t as bogus as I thought. Of course, my apprehension could’ve been because of the second degree burns I received from making her damned drink. Earl Grey with cream and a splash of lemon. If you ask me, it was horrific. Gray Day is what they called it. If she hadn’t been so captivating, I would’ve agreed with the name.

  Since when did her favorite drink become so popular? It was caused by British influence she’d found while editing an author who hailed from London. Perhaps this author was of the British islands as well, or her coffee shop drink boomed in the City during her time away. Jessie’s brow furrowed as she read more.

  Strangers can fall in love. I should know. I was flat on my ass for this girl by day two. She was crazy, don’t get me wrong. Any woman willing to take a stranger to a family event and pass them off as her boyfriend would be certifiably insane. Her kind of crazy disrupted my life, but it also made it whole.

  She had this red dress. It was some expensive thing to wear to a wedding, but never made it beyond her closet. Her in that gown mesmerized my heart from the moment I saw her in it. This woman forced me to feel a spark of what relationships created. What we had was perfection even though I hated the damn word. Perfection was what destroyed us.

  Jessie’s hands trembled as her eyes raced along the page.

  In the end, I screwed up in every way possible. I tried like hell to fix it. Her rejection was as bad as colliding with a piping cup of her morning routine over and over again. And what I did to get her in the same room was even more insane. I all but sold my soul to her bosses so I could see that red Prada dress on her silhouette at a gala. Was it worth risking my career by writing a book about her? Our story wouldn’t complete without a bit of flair. It’s unravelling before your eyes, so don’t miss it. The one thing I was confident of, though, was that a dress as feisty as hers would look so much better on the floor of my apartment.

  The slim book slipped through Jessie’s fingers as her eyes misted over. The humor. The story. She knew them well. A hush drifted through the room as she skimmed the faces around her. The guests stared at her and it was in her review of the crowd she realized no one was wearing red. No one, save her. Her eyes bugged at the knowledge, but more so when she recalled the Miller brothers were adamant she wear red tonight.

  “I heard it on good authority you drink coffee now.”

  Jessie spun around at the humor-laced voice. “What are you—?”

  Asher held up his finger to his lips as he approached. She couldn’t help but notice all eyes were on them. Even the wait staff’s eyes clung to his smooth footsteps. As much as she wanted to drop his gaze, she couldn’t.

  “So, this weird thing happened the other day. Someone ordered your drink at the coffee shop. I made it and waited for her reaction.” He smirked, recalling the ordeal. “She hated it. It was so bad she tossed it in the trash.” His gait slowed. “All I could think about was you. How instead of yelling at me, like the nice lady did, you offered me one of those dazzling smiles of yours.”

  “I also threw it away,” Jessie reminded him, uncomfortable with the myriad of eyes.

  Asher stood in front of her now, his hands behind his back. “Yeah, you tend to toss the good things on your desk too. At least, Bridget tells me as much.”

  Alarmed at the betrayal, Jessie searched the crowd for her Judas, but didn’t spot her. “Well, I don’t like to be played.” She lowered her voice. “Like right now.” His bright red tie made her catch her bottom lip with her teeth to keep from smiling. He didn’t deserve any satisfaction, even if her cheeks ached to give in.

  “I wouldn’t have to do all this if you would’ve answered me in the woods,” he told her, his voice just as low.

  “What are you talking about? You never asked me anything.”

  A flash of a camera reminded her they continued to be the center of attention. The main event, if you will. When this was over, she was going to strangle Bridget and her bosses.

  A slow smile spread over Asher’s handsome face. “Oh, right. I didn’t. I meant to.” He dipped down onto one knee in front of her, and wave of gasps echoed through the room. “But I’m going to ask you one right now.”

  “Asher, what are you doing?” Jessie shrieked through clenched teeth.

  A boyish glimmer filled his eyes. “I’m untidying your life, Mina. Now, shut up and listen or I’ll be forced to write another book.” Jessie clamped her mouth shut at the chuckles from the audience.

  Grabbing her hand, Asher peered up at her. “Jessamine Davis, every moment I’m with you is my own slice of Heaven. I know we met not long ago, and I don’t even know what your middle name is, but I know the curves of your body when it’s curled into mine.”

  He took a steadying breath. “I know what it’s like to kiss you in a mountain creek and a meadow at twelve thousand feet. I know how your brow furrows when you’re angry.” Jessie corrected her eyebrows and he chuckled. “Yeah, that. But most important, I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep without your fuzzy, messy, hellish bun in my face.”

  Jessie held her smile hostage until he added the last part. He couldn’t stand her hair at night, so much so he took out the hair tie himself on occasion. She pressed her hand over her mouth.

  “Will you marry me, Mina?” Asher asked, still kneeling. “I promise I’ll figure out how to make your damned tea.” He pulled out a ring box and opened it for her to see. “Your grandma may have snuck this to me before I left.”

  Jessie shook her head. It sounded like her nosy grandma. Meeting Asher’s hesitant green eyes made her remember every minute they spent in Colorado. She took a breath. “Does this mean you’ll sign with Brecon?”

  Asher cocked his left eyebrow and let out a forced chuckle. “Um, I’ll agree if you’re there and in charge of my books.”

  She tapped her finger on her lips, relishing the undivided and endless attention she was bound to receive from this point forward. She didn’t want a pristine life. It was clear from the second she met this charismatic yet imperfect man. She wanted a life with Asher.

  Taking the pearl ring from his outstretched hand, Jessie slipped it on her finger. “You know, I think coffee is growing on me instead.”

  “Is that a yes?” Jessie heard the distinct voice of Bridget clamor.

  Crooking her finger to Asher, she waited until he stood with his head lowered over her. “It’s a definite yes,” she relented, latching her arms behind his neck. “Even if you’re the worst barista I’ve ever met.”

  Throwing his arms around her, Asher spun her around, kissing her with exuberance. When he set her heels down, Jessie was certain she would never go on a twirly carnival ride ever again. Asher’s presence in her life spun her world upside down and topsy-turvy, and she adored every second of it.

  “I’m glad because otherwise the ending of my book is going to suck,” he teased, pressing his lips to her temple. She laughed when he added, “Oh, I expect to see your dress on the floor the instant we get to my place.”

  Jessie kissed his delectable lips once more. “I think I can handle that since it is in your new book.” Her lips hovered over hers. “But I may need to increase my royalties.”

  Asher shook his head and laughed. “Whatever you want, Mina. I’m all yours.”

  More flashes of cameras went off, but Jessie didn’t bother paying them any heed. She had to admit, she was warming to the idea of romance novels. Asher winked at her, spreading warmth through her bones. But only his. The rest were still full of crap.

  Epilogue

  Eleven months later…

  The tantalizing scent of evergreen trees overwhelmed Jessie as she stepped outside. In the distance, a chickadee c
hirped in the expansive forest. The sound resonated through the valley between the mountains, forcing a smile to play on her lips. She was back to the paradise Timberline alone could bring.

  Footsteps caught her attention when a snapped branch boomeranged below the deck. She had returned to Colorado, but this time with a fiancé instead of a boyfriend. A real fiancé, no faking this time around.

  “So much for me sneaking up on you.” Asher’s voice washed over her in the stillness. No matter how many times she heard his chocolatey rumble, it caused her stomach to swirl. She just had to remember the sensation when he pissed her off. Which wasn’t too often.

  “I think you’ve done plenty of sneaking already,” she implied, her eyes focused on the hummingbird feeder. Every few minutes, one of the zippy birds would steal a beakful of nectar before darting away. A little patience was all it took to spot one.

  Asher placed his mug of coffee on the rail in front of her and rested his arms around her shoulders, locking her into place. “You might be right.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. “But you love it,” he sang into her ear.

  “Yes, I do.” She couldn’t argue with him. She did love the way Asher snuck into her life with ease, but not as much as she loved the man himself. Though it took some getting used to when his fandom wept over their engagement, Jessie was grateful he didn’t egg the fans on. His agent did enough for both of them.

  Burying his head in her shoulder, Asher let out an audible sigh when voices carried over the growing aspens. “We can’t get any peace and quiet anywhere, can we?”

  Turning to face him, she raised her eyebrows in question. “Not backing out of our mountain wedding, are you?”

  His fingers danced along her back. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Jessie smirked at his serious tone. Since the news broke of their whirlwind romance, Asher was the anchor in their relationship while she tended to get swept away by details. Loving a celebrity wasn’t as horrible as it sounded, but it came with mountains to overcome. To this day, it baffled her they remained together. The public expected them to break up, but Jessie was never so convinced of anything in her entire life.