by Taylor Hart
The way he looked at her so disbelievingly last night. Her hand trembled for a second, and she willed herself to stop.
It wasn’t her real life she’d told herself all morning. It was a couple days with a handsome man.
It was stupid. She didn’t know him. She’d told herself that all morning.
Before she knew it, Henry was standing in front of her, his booted foot stomped the floor lightly. “Yoo hoo. Did you hear a word I said?”
Finishing the last piece of the display, Sayla brushed her hands together and smiled at him, trying to cover the flustered nature of truly not hearing what another was saying because of being so preoccupied with a ridiculous situation. “Sorry, I was a bit busy with your mess.”
He grunted and looked at he display and then back to her. “I’m taking someone out on the boat today.”
She frowned. “With your foot?”
He lifted one shoulder then dropped it. “The guy I’m taking out isn’t skilled at fishing, but he reassured me he would do the hard parts of getting the boat out.” Henry flashed a grin. “I get to be treated like royalty today and even get paid for it.” He grinned. “Plus, I’m giving the Milgrom boy a chance to come and help out.”
Ah, now Sayla understood. Henry was all about mentoring and helping those who needed it. Even though he liked to complain about it.
The look in his eyes, of slight amusement, didn’t sit well with her. “Who—”
Before she could even get the whole sentence out, the wind chime signaled the pulling back of the marina door.
Then, he was there. Dressed in brand-spanking-new fishing gear.
She frowned at his clothes, probably something his assistant went out and bought him that morning so he could go. She didn’t know why it bothered her that he had an assistant. Of course he would. It was just another symbol of the gap between their lives.
She couldn’t deny or push away the butterflies that hummed in her chest or the way the smell of him caused an annoying desire to feel his cheek pressed against hers.
“Hey.” There wasn’t a mocking look on his face. It was more of a questioning concern.
There they were—it was just them. It was almost like she could feel the desire inside of him, wanting to pull her into him.
Henry cleared his throat. “Well, let’s get going.” He turned to her. “You okay to watch the shop for a few hours?”
She glared at Henry. “I thought you didn’t want me overdoing it?”
He shook a finger at her. “By watching the shop I mean sitting on your butt and working on your stack of travel books.”
Glaring back at Henry, and definitely not at Sterling, she moved to the cash register. “Don’t worry about me.”
Hours later, after re-reading her book on Rome and looking up Nero’s bathtub, which it did have, complete with a picture of it in the Vatican, she hadn’t decided whether to be happy or sad that Henry had let her watch the store. She threw the Rome book on the floor and stomped on it.
A few of the usual grumpy old guys had come into the store and bought some bait or a few supplies which helped the day go by. But it was annoying to her that she realized how empty her life had been before “the incident” as she now referred to that date.
Part of her was more bothered that she hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been. That she’d been content to do the same things day after day. To not share herself. Not really.
Sterling had somehow crept into the cracks of the locked chest of her heart, she couldn’t go back. Even though she’d relocked the trunk, he somehow had a magic key or the latch was broken, and it just wouldn’t shut right anymore.
At four-thirty, Henry and Sterling walked back through the door.
Sterling had a big grin on his face and held one of the biggest fish she’d ever seen.
Henry looked extremely grumpy.
“Check it out, Sayla.” The Milgrom boy fluttered on the edges. “Isn’t it the biggest you’ve ever seen?”
Keeping her face unimpressed, Sayla didn’t even smile at how grumpy Henry was. She knew he hadn’t caught a fish as big all summer, and it’d been an ongoing challenge between the grumpy old guys when they got together.
“Nice,” she said curtly.
Henry grunted and didn’t meet her eye. “How’s business?”
She stood. “Fine.” He brushed past her, taking the keys for his truck off the hook. “I’m going.”
Henry turned to the Milgrom boy. “Hold up, boy. Let me give you a couple of dollars.”
“You’re paying him out of the cash?”
Henry shrugged. “He worked hard.”
They’d had talks about paying people cash. It wreaked havoc on taxes, but Henry didn’t care about that because it was her job now to figure out taxes, he said.
It didn’t suit to have him be so grumpy, but the fact he didn’t coddle her, as he’d done for nearly a week, was more than nice. She understood though, with Sterling standing there, holding the biggest fish she’d seen brought in over all her time at the marina.
“Let me pay him.” Sterling offered.
“No.” Henry insisted.
Sterling produced a fifty-dollar bill and held it out.
“Well, not that much.” Henry scowled. “You can’t spoil him.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Got a twenty?”
Sterling pulled out a twenty and handed it to the boy who happily took it.
“Thanks!”
“You did good today,” Henry grunted. “Go on home.”
The boy scampered off.
She gave Henry a frown. Clearly, Henry should have paid the boy not Sterling.
Henry returned her frown. “Not like a twenty’s gonna set Mr. Billionaire back.”
Sterling laughed. “It’s fine. The boy did good work.”
Henry grunted at Sterling’s fish. “Hardly seems fair.” Henry pushed open the door. “Lock up, would ya?”
She tried to follow him, not wanting to be alone with Sterling. “No, I was leaving.”
But Sterling’s hand touched hers. “Would you wait, please?”
Jerking back, she hit the fish by accident and it went soaring up in the air.
But, luckily, Sterling caught it.
Sterling’s eyes caught hers, and the joke in them told her how much he knew it would torture Henry more than anything that Sterling found the whole situation highly amusing in regards to the fish. “Stupid fish.”
Sayla was laughing before she could stop herself. But the laughing hurt her lower stomach, and she grabbed for her incisions.
Worry spread across Sterling’s face, and he put the fish lower in the air. “Are you okay?”
She held up her hand to stop him. “Yes. I need to go.”
He didn’t move.
Turning off the power on the cash machine and then taking the key for the marina, she flipped off the lights and started toward the door.
He still didn’t move. It felt like he was Goliath at the moment, so tall and strong in his hiking boots and man clothes and holding a fish. The scent of earth and woods permeated the air around her. She got to the door and opened it, waiting.
Still, he didn’t move.
After an uncomfortable beat, where she fiddled with the key and then turned to face the lake, she finally breathed. “I want to lock up and go home.”
Still. Nothing.
She knew he was waiting for her to turn to him. Knew he was waiting to capture her in that connecting thing that always happened between them.
But she wouldn’t do it.
What felt like eternity went by. Then she sensed him behind her. Felt his breath on her neck.
“Why are you pushing me away?”
Sayla didn’t move. It was her turn to stand there. To make a stand. Be firm. Too bad thinking about his lips on her neck made her want to melt. “Please don’t do that.”
His breath puffed into her ear as he pushed his head to hers.
The connection was palpable.
Unm
asked.
She almost let him take her into his arms and carry her … somewhere.
Where?
Where could they possibly reside in the same world together?
“I want you to come to my home for dinner.”
Getting her wits about her, she let out a long breath. “No.”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“I told you I can’t do this.” She pointed between them.
The tone of his voice didn’t match the electricity between them. “Well, I never agreed to your terms.” He took a step around her and held up the bass. “C’mon, it’s just dinner. I’ll grill it up for us. Just friends. I think you at least owe me that.”
A small smile crept onto her face. She realized going home to be by herself wasn’t what she wanted anymore. “Oh, I owe you that?”
He grinned, signifying he knew she was won over. “It’s my payment for taking care of you those first few days.”
She let out a light laugh. “Oh, you cook me dinner as my payment to you.”
He nodded.
She couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on her face. “Fine.”
He gestured back to the shop. “Go get that book on Rome. I want to show you some cool stuff for your trip.”
With that, she was completely won over. “Fine, but I don’t want this … whatever it is between us. I just …”
He didn’t let her finish, holding up his hand. “Fine. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. If you want a friend, I can be that.”
Friend. The word sounded nice. Not exactly what she envisioned. Could she really be his friend? “Okay.”
Chapter 18
Sterling stood at the grill in his backyard that he hardly ever used. Not the grill. He used that all the time.
The backyard.
He thought of Hunter’s backyard and the play toys and the way the patio furniture was always messed up. There seemed to always be a stray towel from Josh and his friends.
Sterling’s was perfect. The pool was perfect. Every patio chair was in its place.
He hated it. The perfectness of it.
It felt like too much like the home he’d grown up in.
Stuffy. Boring. Unlived in.
Granted, the home he grew up in was very East Coast with dark colors and large doorways. The library wall actually had a sliding ladder. Man, Sayla would definitely make fun of that. He knew she would secretly love a library like that though.
He thought of the plethora of photography books his mother had always kept on the coffee tables throughout the house. Maybe that was why he loved landscapes so much.
Then he thought of Sayla’s home. Yes, it was a cabin. Yes, the pictures weren’t even framed.
But it was nice. Homey. He loved the record player and listening to jazz. He loved the softness of the used rug. The sagging way her couch gave when he sat in it.
He loved all of it.
“Hey.”
Turning, he saw her in the sliding glass doorway, a glass of water in her hand.
He’d asked if she wanted to change before going to his home when they’d pulled out of the marina, and she’d given him that girl-next-door smile. “What? My t-shirt, shorts, and sandals aren’t good enough to hang with the movie star?”
Partly, it’d annoyed him that she felt he was criticizing her. He hadn’t been then or ever for that matter. For most of the women he dated or spent time around, their whole lives revolved around changing outfits and matching lipstick.
Being around Sayla was so refreshing, but it was also an adjustment. Dealing with a girl next door type of woman was obviously not in his forte.
“Hey back.” Would it be stupid to say his heart actually fluttered? He had to look back to the cooking fish to stop thinking about how nice it would be to pull her into his arms and kiss her again. To feel the softness of her against him. To smell that unfairly alluring marina perfume that actually did smell like the ocean.
During the days he’d filled in at the marina, he’d actually tracked down the scent on one of her displays and bought a bottle of the perfume. He could only imagine what kind of a time she’d have harassing him about buying the cheap scent.
It was safely tucked away in his master bathroom, so there was no need to worry she’d ever see it.
Unless he somehow figured out a way to charm her better than he was doing.
He’d told himself that fighting for Sayla Jones meant showing up. Being there. And letting her come to terms with him being in her life.
He’d finally realized he could be patient. Usually, he went from A-Z, without saying the letters in the alphabet. Now, he was looking forward to going through each and every letter. Taking it slow. Taking his time.
“So when’s your appointment tomorrow?”
She moved next to him, sipping her water and giving the property an evaluative gaze. “Ten.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up.”
“No.”
Still facing the grill, he turned, stabbing the air with his tongs. “Hey, friends, remember? I’ve been in this whole thing with you. I’ve seen you drool. I want to take you.”
She scrunched her face then spit her tongue at him and looked away. “You’re not going to give in on this, are you?”
Grinning happily, he turned back to the fish and turned it over, taking care not to rip the aluminum foil he’d placed over the grill bars. “Nope.” It wasn’t like she was standing that close to him. It definitely wasn’t like she was a girlfriend, but having her here at his place and cooking for her brought all sorts of satisfaction to him.
“I like your place.” She offered, sipping her water.
He gestured to the pool with his tongs. “I want my yard to look like Hunter’s.”
She didn’t respond immediately. Then she said. “I like your design.”
“No.” He put the tongs down and shut the lid on the grill, letting the fish cook a bit more. “I want kids. Lots of kids. Kids that will go around whooping on Hunter’s kids.” He flashed a grin. “Do you want kids?” he asked pointedly.
Her face clouded. “Yes, I want kids.”
He was an idiot. “Wait, Sayla, with your surgery … can you? I didn’t mean to …”
“I don’t know.” She sighed and turned away from him. “The doctor thinks so. One ovary is intact, but he’s not sure.”
Sterling gave her a pointed look. “I don’t care how I get kids. I could adopt kids too.”
She nodded. “I don’t know if it even matters anymore.”
“I’m sorry.” He wanted to take her and shake her, but he opted for a change of subject. “So when will you go to Rome?”
She flashed a grin. “If I’m released, next week.”
“I’d be the perfect guide.” He kept his voice wistful.
“Let’s not do this.”
He finished the fish and pulled it off, putting it onto a platter. “Just let me say a few things about it.”
In anticipation of cooking and having this meal, he’d called and had his chef prepare a salad and rice and set the table outside for them.
He took the platter and walked toward the table. “You need a money belt. Do not travel in Rome with any kind of purse. The pickpockets are fierce. Granted, not as fierce as Paris, but still.”
She let out a sigh. “Are they really that bad?”
“Yes, they are really that bad,” he said sternly. “Anything could happen to a woman traveling overseas by herself if she ended up with no money and no documents.” He hesitated. “I’ll hire you a guide.”
Leveling him with a glare, she shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.” She sat down at the chair he gestured to. “This looks delicious, thank you for inviting me.”
Their eyes held, and it felt like another one of those intimate moments. Sitting down to dinner with her, the force of it hit him, but he cleared his throat and took to the task of dividing the fish. He wanted this so he couldn’t ruin it by pushing her.
“Don’t underest
imate the danger Rome poses. Don’t get me wrong. It’s fun. Beautiful. Best gelato, best kind of passionate people. When you walk in the Travertine Ghetto, it humbles you to see how big the Jewish ghetto was. How it still houses many of the poor people in Rome today. Throughout it are ruins. Everywhere you walk you feel like you’re back in time for a brief moment. The Forum is amazing. Definitely hire a guide for it.”
“I’ve researched guide companies.”
He shook his head. “Don’t go with thirty people and follow around a girl with an umbrella. Take the executive tour. It’s worth it. One or two people in your group. Personalized information from the top guides.”
“Says the billionaire.”
He almost offered to take her again, but he knew it was fruitless. “It only costs a little more to go first class. From the way you talk, this might be your only trip to the Eternal City.”
Gesturing to the food, she asked, “Don’t you want to say grace first?”
He frowned. “Do you?”
She shrugged. “I’m fine if you do.”
He said a short prayer.
When he finished, their eyes met again. She grinned.
He cut a bite-sized piece of the fish and lifted it to his mouth.
She took a bite too. “This is good.”
He grinned. “Thank you.”
They both ate in silence for a few moments.
Once again, he took in the view of his ranch. His pool. The stables. The Tetons in the back. Then he glanced at her. A natural beauty if he ever saw one.
Again, his desire to have her in his life grew.
It was the first time he wanted to be with someone because of who they were. He liked her as a friend and also as a person. He liked how fierce she was, and all she’d been through. And how she still remained true to herself.
She’d been broken, but she’d pressed on.
Granted, she was still broken, but she was getting through.
More than that, for the first time in as long as he could remember with a woman, he felt like more than a character playing a part.
Deep satisfaction was growing inside of him. He didn’t care how long it took. He would take it slow and wait.
