Sophie shrugged. “They caught me off guard for some reason. Normally I can tune that kind of thing out.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to.”
They went back to quietly eating and watching the water and the people passing back and forth. A few did a double take at Sophie and Jamie. She supposed they did look odd sitting there together. Sophie wore a tidy white cardigan with new jeans, her hair pulled into a neat ponytail, and Jamie looked … well, mostly still the homeless, unwashed look.
Sophie realized a hand was reaching for her food. “Hey!”
Jamie’s long fingers made a quick retreat with several fries. He feigned innocence. “What?”
“Those are mine.”
“Mine are gone. You’re clearly not going to eat all of yours, and they’re getting colder by the second.”
“What if I was still eating them?”
“Were you?”
“Maybe.”
“You won’t like them in a few minutes,” he said. “There’s a time limit for fries. I could just … help you with that …”
He’d snarfed down the stolen fries, and she made an effort to fend him off as he went for the remainder with a two-handed approach: sneak in left, dive in right; tickle left, extract fries right.
“Not fair!” she laughed. “Did you seriously just tickle me?”
“All’s fair in fries and war. I could use some of that fry sauce, though.”
She gave in—since she was done eating anyway, but had felt obligated to defend a fry attack—and handed over the paper basket.
“Are you sure?” Jamie’s eyes were hopeful, twinkling. He was having fun.
“I’m sure. They’re yours. Not fairly won, but you can have them.”
“I’ll share,” he said, holding the basket back toward her as a peace gesture.
“Nope. I’m good. It was delicious; thank you for suggesting it.”
“Thank you for treating,” he said. “I’ve never seen someone order a hamburger with just mustard and triple pickles. And an extra mustard packet.”
Sophie shrugged. “Pickles and mustard are my favorite. But … I want to ask you a question.”
“Ask away.”
“That day we met, I know you were having fun with me on the boat when I … misunderstood. But why did you say you didn’t know what maternity leave was? Do you really not know?”
Jamie had already dug into the rest of the fries. “Of course I know what maternity leave is. In fact, I’m a proponent for paid maternity and paternity leave. It should be commonplace. As a country, we’re finally acknowledging the importance of family leave in establishing the parent-child bond. Just watch: it’s only a matter of time before the laws change here. We’re definitely behind other countries in requiring paid leave for the mother and in many cases the father. I haven’t had any children—” He glanced at Sophie. “Have you?”
She shook her head quickly, and he continued.
“There’re always some questions about length of time and how to handle an employee’s absence, that sort of thing. The thing is, statistics show that employees who—”
He glanced at her again, then back to his fries. It was odd to think that fuzzy-faced Jamie in his secondhand clothes had considered maternity leave statistics, and her expression probably showed it.
“Anyway,” he said, “paid maternity leave is a good thing. I didn’t ask you what maternity leave was; I only wondered why Cathy needed one. I hadn’t talked to Roger or Cathy about their timeline, and I guess I assumed since she’s self-employed, she’d just wait to open the bakery until the baby was a few months old.”
“They couldn’t wait to open,” Sophie said. “They’d already committed.”
“Roger told me this morning. Just didn’t know at the time you mentioned it.”
“Ah.”
Jamie had a way of … she wasn’t sure what it was. He didn’t take control of a conversation, but he didn’t meander through one either. He explained himself clearly, succinctly even. Economy of words, a phrase she’d learned in a college class.
“So,” she asked, “when you let me think you were … When we were on the boat?”
“Yes?”
“Did you think that was funny?”
“I did.” She couldn’t see if he was smiling, but his eyes were. “I thought it was hilarious.”
“Do you normally make fun of people with intellectual delays?”
Jamie set the empty fry basket aside and looked at her. His hazel eyes held no amusement. “No,” he said. “I do not. I was only teasing you because you’d made an assumption about me.”
“Okay.”
She liked his straightforward answer. She liked it so much it gave her goose bumps. Whatever Jamie’s grooming choices might be, and no matter how much he wasn’t her type, there was an intelligence and honesty about him that drew her in, made her want to move closer to him, even reach up and touch that scruffy beard.
So she did.
When her fingers made contact with his beard, Jamie’s eyes flew open, but he didn’t move. Sophie touched it gently, really looking at all the whiskery browns. It was at least six inches long, full in all directions, and felt just as scruffy as it looked. It was kind of soft, too, not scratchy like she expected. He’d managed not to get any lunch in it, and she found it encouraging to know he could avoid that if he tried. It still showed the combing he’d given it, and she thought again that he didn’t look too bad with it tidied up. In fact, not bad at all.
While her curiosity had made her impulsive, it suddenly dawned on Sophie that she had her hand on Jamie’s face. Her heart skipped a beat. How was she going to get out of this without it being awkward?
She cleared her throat, and gently brushed at the bottom of his beard. “Sorry, you had a little … some crumbs there.” She put her hand back in her lap, trying to appear casual. She gave him what she hoped was a companionable, my-heart-isn’t-really-fluttering smile.
Jamie hadn’t moved a bit, and his eyes hadn’t left hers. “Something in my beard, huh?”
“Yep.” Her hand rose up, as if she was going to brush it again, but she pulled it back. “All gone.”
“Thank you.” They both looked down, and Jamie ran his fingers through his beard. “So, all done,” he said, holding up the lunch trash. “Do you fancy a walk?”
“Fancy?”
“It’s a word, take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.” In fact, she loved it. Why was this man constantly surprising her?
They found a trash barrel, and then wandered up toward town. They passed a lot of tourists. Jamie led the way when things got crowded, and at one point he reached back and took her hand so they didn’t get separated. While it was a bit of a shock, she loved the feel of his large hand around hers, loved that he held her firmly, with confidence. When they cleared from the crowd, he released her hand and moved back to her side.
“Sorry about that.” He didn’t sound sorry. “More people than I anticipated here today. Didn’t want to lose you.”
“Okay.”
Down the road ahead of them was a church. “What a unique building,” Sophie said.
“Saint Michael’s Cathedral. It’s Russian Orthodox.”
“That’s right, Sitka has a Russian heritage. Marisa mentioned it.” At Jamie’s questioning look, she added, “Just someone I met on my flight here.”
The church had two golden crosses for steeples: a higher one on a tower and a lower one above a green dome. “It’s weirdly exotic,” she said, “set down here in this ordinary little town. How old is it?”
“I don’t remember off the top of my head. The original was built in the 1800s, but it burned down. This is a rebuild—1960s, I believe. Lots of old Russian treasures inside, though.”
“Can we go in?”
“Let’s try another time, when there aren’t so many tourists. From the looks of things out here, it’s going to be packed inside.”
They wandered down to the ne
xt street, close to where they’d begun their walk. Sophie hadn’t paid attention to the building set far back behind the park bench where they’d eaten lunch. It was a stately white building, extending out in two large wings from a center point. In front was a statue of a man carrying a backpack and pickaxe—a gold miner.
“Goodness, what is this place? It’s huge. Government offices?”
“Pioneer Home. It’s a … well, it’s a nursing home.”
“Sad. Such a grand building.”
“It isn’t really sad, though.” Jamie looked at the building thoughtfully. “It’s special. This is Alaska. People here live under a variety of unique circumstance. The idea is that the elderly are treated with respect, like the pioneers and survivors they are.”
“That’s wonderful. Looks like they’re under construction. Are they rebuilding, too?”
They’d walked up closer to the door, where a large, temporary sign bore the headline Excuse our Mess. “Yes. They should be done in a few weeks,” Jamie said. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Too many people.”
There weren’t as many people in front of the Pioneer Home as other places, Sophie thought, but she followed. A woman had emerged from the building and was heading their way, but Jamie took Sophie’s hand again and walked briskly in the direction of the company pickup truck they’d driven downtown. Sophie really did like how his hand felt around hers, but without a crowd to navigate through, there didn’t seem to be a logical reason for him to take it. A protest seemed in order.
“You’re awfully free with my hand,” she said. “Is it my imagination, or have we known each other just a few days?”
He smirked, but didn’t release it yet. “Sorry. I’m just not a fan of crowds.” When they reached the truck, he stopped, took her hand in both of his, and moved it toward her. “Your hand back, my lady. Sorry to have kept it longer than you may have wished.”
“No harm done.” She cringed at how prim she sounded and climbed into the truck when he opened the door for her.
The roads were not crowded, since the tourists arrived by boat. Jamie cruised back up the road, mostly following the waterfront. With sunshine brightening the scenery, Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off the view. It was like something out of a vacation brochure.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she said. “I’d forgotten that. Maybe I’d never really noticed it, though. I was just a teenager last time I was here.”
“Your mother was from Sitka, right?” Jamie asked.
“Yes. She grew up here, the only girl in a family of boys.”
“Why did she leave?”
Sophie sighed. She’d wondered that many times growing up. “She met my dad when she was in San Francisco for school. You’ve heard of San Francisco sourdough bread?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s a real thing. She was working at a bakery, learning about sourdough, and taking college classes at night. My dad was managing this old brownstone that was divided into apartments where she lived. They got married, had me. Turned out they had very little in common, and Dad … Dad isn’t someone who sacrifices much. He’s not easy to work with.”
“Did the marriage last?”
“They split up when I was eleven.”
Jamie whistled. “Pretty young.”
“How about your parents?” Sophie asked. “Are they here in Sitka?”
“No. My parents are currently on a cruise.”
Sophie looked at him in wonder, again. How did Jamie have parents who did such normal things? She’d expected to hear they lived in the backwoods somewhere, hunting varmints and living off the land.
“Nice,” she said. “Is it an Alaskan cruise? Will they spend any time in Sitka?”
“I’d say it’s a good possibility they will,” he said, confusing her. “Did your mom ever think of returning to Sitka?”
“If she did, I never knew about it. I think with my dad in California and her connections in the baking world there, living in the city was a good place to be.”
“But you came back to Sitka sometimes. Roger mentioned it.”
“We did. Every couple of years, Mom and I came up for a few weeks in the summer. It was the best. Tons of cousins; we were outdoors every day. The water’s freezing, not like in California, but there was always a lot to do.”
“I bet.”
“Then, when I was a junior in high school, Mom started her own bakery. I helped after school, then full time once I graduated.”
A happy little shiver passed over her, and she rubbed her arms. When was the last time she’d opened up to anyone like this? Maybe, because he was such a non-possibility romance-wise, he was easier to talk to.
Jamie must have noticed her shiver. He switched on the truck’s heater. “No college?” he asked.
“Evening classes. I earned my business degree, but it took me six years.”
“That’s a lot of dedication. Business, huh?” Jamie scrutinized her. “I wouldn’t have guessed business.”
“What, I don’t look like a corporate mogul?”
“Not like any I know.”
“Just as well,” she said, looking back out the window. “I focused on small business.”
“And did your business education help at the bakery?” Jamie asked.
Sophie felt that lump rising again and swallowed hard. Things had been so good since she’d arrived in Sitka. She felt the stirrings of her old self, before the weight of the last three years settled on her shoulders.
They drove past Cathy’s little pink bakery. The Cookie Jar looked smaller driving by, but still eye-catching. If she and her mom had moved to Sitka after her parents’ divorce, maybe that bakery would be theirs. She thought about Cathy, starting her own business and having a new baby at forty.
“I think my business degree helped,” she said. “Not to be a better baker, of course, but … you know. In the end, nothing would have helped, though.”
“Because of your mother’s illness?”
Sophie frowned at Jamie. “What makes you say that?”
“I assumed the two were connected,” he said. “Losing your mom and your business.”
“Only in that they both were … devastating.” She looked at him critically this time. Sometimes it was easy to forget that he looked like someone from a Duck Dynasty episode, he was so well-spoken and informed. So direct and honest. Now she wondered about trusting him with these intimate details of her life.
“I’m sorry, Sophie. Then tell me, what happened with—”
Jamie suddenly slammed on the brakes, bringing the truck to a skidding stop. Sophie lunged forward, her seatbelt keeping her from hitting the dash. She’d been looking at Jamie, not the road, and when she looked up was shocked to see a long, brown face peering back at her over the truck’s hood.
A large moose stood so close in front of the high truck that Sophie could only see its head and the top of the bump along its back.
“Did we hit it?”
“No.”
“No horns. Is it a female?”
“Yes.” Jamie came across as cool, but Sophie could see his hands clenched on the wheel. He was glancing between the moose and his rear view mirror.
“Is someone coming behind us?”
“Not yet.”
“Should I get out and shoo—”
“Like the crows?” He chuckled softly. “No. We’re staying right here in the car.”
Jamie put the truck in reverse and slowly rolled back from the moose, who still just stared at Sophie through the windshield. When Jamie had backed up far enough for Sophie to see more of it, she gasped. Right behind the large animal stood a calf. “It has a baby! Is it alright?”
“Looks like it.”
They watched for a moment. The mother eventually decided to move along, and her offspring followed. Jamie put the car back in motion and passed them, and Sophie watched out the back window as the two plodded their way on tiny feet through the foliage.
“Isn’t that amazing?” she
said. “Just beautiful. You’d never see something like that in San Francisco.”
“I don’t imagine you would.”
“You’ve got someone coming up behind you now.”
“I see it.”
Another truck sped up behind them and quickly passed in the opposite lane.
“Lucky he didn’t come when the moose were there,” Sophie said.
“Yes, it was.”
“Weren’t they gorgeous? Those long lashes and that wonderfully homely nose.”
She didn’t stop gushing until they’d reached Cathy and Roger’s house, a few minutes away from the lodge. Jamie turned off the noisy truck engine and turned toward Sophie. Her heart jumped. Did he think this was a date and wanted a kiss?
“Well, thanks for driving.” She smiled and jumped out of the truck so he could leave, but he had something else on his mind. He also got out of the truck and followed her partway up the porch steps.
“I still want to hear about your business,” he said. “What made it close? Was it your mom’s illness and taking her to appointments?”
“No!” She said it too quickly, too loud. “It wasn’t that. I mean, that was hard, but it was unfair competition that put us out of business.”
“Unfair competition? What does that mean?”
“I mean someone came in and stole our business.”
“Stole it, huh? Right out from under you? That’s just rotten.”
“I know, right?” she said. “Doesn’t seem fair, but they did it, and there went our business.”
He was leaning toward her, and it was hard to concentrate. His eyes were such a nice shade of hazel, exciting, and yet she felt like she’d known them her whole life. “They sound like bullies,” he said. “Who were these dastardly bakers? I’ll go beat them up for you.”
Sophie laughed, but then sobered as a thought came to her. “You know, I wouldn’t really want you to do that, right?”
“I’m not dangerous, Sophie. Unless they deserve it. Who was it?”
A chill went through her. Jamie had such a mixed effect on her. He felt both comfortable and dangerous at the same time. “Nobody little,” she said. “I mean, they weren’t bakers.”
The Angler, the Baker, and the Billionaire (Destination Billionaire Romance) Page 5
