He nodded. “I like it. You’re clearly very passionate about your friends and have a knack for figuring out what makes people tick.”
She opened her mouth to say thanks, but he wasn’t done.
“It’s clearly what makes you a great sales person. I mean, your enthusiasm is contagious, and you’re well able to read people. That’s a unique combination.” He grinned. “Heck, I kind of want to hire all your friends right now, even though I have no idea why I need an artist and a daytime soap star on my payroll.”
She found herself laughing despite herself, but her laughter died as his demeanor shifted subtly. He grew a little more serious, a little more wary. “Look, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but CRBO could really use your skills. And it’s clear that you loved your job—”
“No,” she interjected. “I didn’t.”
At his questioning look, she clarified. “I didn’t love that job. I was good at it. There’s a difference.”
He nodded. “I suppose there is.”
She shrugged. “I like doing what I’m good at.” And then, because he was such a good listener—dang it!—she found herself telling him more than she ought. “It’s such an amazing feeling to be good at something, you know? To really, truly excel at something. But it’s not like I set out to be a salesperson. I don’t even think I actually like it. I just like the success.” She made a face. “Ugh. That sounds bad, doesn’t it?”
He shook his head, his gaze surprisingly serious. “Not at all. We all like to feel like we’re good at what we do. But what is it you don’t like about sales?”
She shifted, her gaze flickering around the crowded room as she thought it over. “Sales,” she said with a little laugh.
He grinned but didn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue.
She bit her lip as she tried to put into words that restless, unsatisfied feeling she’d never quite been able to shake. “I don’t like that what I sell is meaningless. I mean, air time—what is that? And before that I sold merchandise. A friend wants me to sell real estate for her.” She sighed. “But, none of that stuff makes me excited, you know?”
He nodded and she realized that he did know. “What about you? Do you love what you do?”
“I do,” he said slowly. With a self-deprecating shrug, he added, “But I also know that I’m extraordinarily lucky. Not many people are born into the wealthy life that I was. Not everyone can just take over the family business—”
“Not everyone can multiply it and turn a semi-successful company into a thriving, super-successful company, either.”
His brows shot up and she knew his surprise was over the fact that she was being nice, but she played dumb. “What? I told you I did my research on you.”
He grinned and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. “Yes, you did.”
There was something knowing about the way he was smiling at her. Like he was onto her. Like he understood something that she didn’t. Like she’d just shown her hand…
The thought was ridiculous but she still felt a surge of heat. Embarrassment and vulnerability making it hard to focus on anything other than that gleam of understanding in his eyes.
The rest of the room seemed to fade away as the sound of blood rushing through her veins filled her ears. Someone could have set off a fire alarm and she wouldn’t have cared or even noticed.
Leaning forward she felt the heat from his body as his lips came so tantalizing close, she nearly cried out when he stopped short of kissing her. “Do you need to stick around until the end of the party?”
She blinked and then shook her head. “I think I’ve made enough of an appearance for one night.”
She was rewarded with his sudden grin. “I’ll go grab a cab.”
Ten
One night might have been the best idea he’d ever had.
Bryce couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot as the car took them back to her apartment. He held her hand in the seat between them, and she made no move to pull away.
This might have been the greatest night of his life. Well, second only to the other night they’d spent together. But this night…it was still underway.
In some ways, it felt like it was just getting started.
He ran a thumb over the back of her hand, loving the way her breath hitched when she glanced over at him from the shadows of the taxi’s backseat.
Some of his happiness faded ever so slightly at the wariness that flickered across her features. “Bryce, I—”
“One night, remember?” He squeezed her hand. “The night’s not over yet.”
And he wasn’t even close to done waging a war on those walls she kept trying to throw up.
She was waiting for him to fail, or get scared off, maybe get tired of trying…
She had no idea how patient he could be when it came to her. He might be known for acting on impulse, but he knew how to see things through. If he wanted something—if he wanted someone—he would go to the ends of the earth and back.
When the car pulled up in front of her apartment, she turned to him with a look that could only be called anguished. “Bryce, we’ve had our date—”
“One night,” he corrected. “You agreed to one night. And this night isn’t over yet.”
Her gaze moved over his features and he held his breath as he waited. Please, sweetheart. Don’t give up on us yet.
As if she could hear him, she gave a little nod. “Okay. Come on in.”
He was already out and holding the door open for her before she could change her mind.
She pursed her lips as they reached her doorstep. “But there are rules,” she said.
“Of course there are.”
He caught a flicker of amusement before she pressed her lips together like a schoolmarm.
“How many kisses do I get?” he teased.
She narrowed her eyes but he caught the twitch of her lips. “I haven’t decided.”
He held his hands up. “Fair enough.”
Once inside, she turned to face him. “I’m going to go put on something more comfortable.” She pointed a finger in his direction when he opened his mouth to retort. “I know how thats sounds, and I promise you—I didn’t mean it like that.”
He choked on a laugh. “Understood. I’ll just…wait here.”
She eyed the small, cozy living room and then cast him the cutest, shyest little smile he’d ever seen from her. “Make yourself at home.”
At home. He watched her disappear into her bedroom, which, by the quick glimpse he’d seen when she’d flicked on the lights, appeared to be no bigger than a walk-in closet.
She shut the door behind her and he sank down onto the sofa with a sigh, her words echoing like bells in his head.
Not alarm bells. More like…a game show gong when the contestant finally gets it right.
And this was right. He looked around at the homey space which was so very her.
There was no way she didn’t feel it too. How right this was.
For the few minutes that she stayed in her bedroom changing, he marveled at the way his entire life had changed. How everything had fallen into place. He reveled in the sweet beauty of coming home with her, to her.
This was the home he’d been seeking all these years. His wanderlust hadn’t been for a place—it had been for a person. He glanced toward the still-shut bedroom door. This person. His person.
The thought left him humbled and in awe.
When the bedroom door opened, and Kat padded out in a sweatshirt and yoga pants, he could only stare.
His brain hadn’t quite caught up with his heart just yet, and for the life of him he still had no idea how to convince her that she could trust him. That he was worth taking a chance on.
She tilted her head to the side and buried her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt. “Do you want some cocoa?”
He smiled. “I’d love that.”
And I love you.
Nope. Now was definitely not the time. Something h
ad shifted in her at the end of the night, but he knew better than to press her too hard.
She was processing so much, and had so many life changes going on…thanks in no small part to him.
And so, by the time she’d returned, with two mugs in hand, he’d decided that he wouldn’t tell her anything just yet. And he wouldn’t try to show her, either.
Have some faith, his gut told him. Let her figure it out on her own.
It went against his other instincts—the ones of the caveman variety that were itching to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she admitted she wanted this too. The ones that nagged at him to put a ring on her finger and make it official…claim her as his own.
He tamped down the inner caveman and followed his gut. Or his heart.
Or…maybe they were one and the same.
“So,” she said as she joined him on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her as she wrapped her hands around her mug and blew on the hot drink. “What now?”
“Now we talk. We laugh.” He smiled. “We get to know one another.”
A sadness flickered in her eyes. “It’s only one night, Bryce.”
Her voice held a warning that he ignored. “Then let’s make it one great night.”
And he’d just have to have faith that one night was all it would take. That at some point she would realize it too…that this thing between them was real. That it was undeniable.
That it was love.
“You’ve heard so much about me,” she said. “I want to hear about you.”
“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath because talking about his personal life was new. But he wanted her to know about him, about his family, about his life. “Where do you want me to start?”
She flashed him a quick smile. “The beginning is usually a good place to start.”
He laughed and lowered his voice dramatically to make her laugh. “Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Bryce Dalton…”
She laughed like he’d hoped he would. “Seriously, start there. I want to hear the whole sordid story of how you came to be this.”
“This?” Laughter laced his voice at the way she’d said it.
“Mmm. A handsome hottie lumberjack who moonlights as a bartender and buys billion dollar companies to impress a woman he likes.”
He laughed. “Aww. This. I see. Okay then, I guess I really better had go back to the very beginning.”
And that was how the conversation started. But it took a million other directions and side paths as they talked the night away—with five kisses mixed in to keep them warm when the cocoa was done.
Five, Kat had informed him, was her lucky number.
“Then five is my lucky number, too,” he’d told her before going in for kiss number two of the night.
She’d laughed right up until his lips pressed against hers.
And then she’d sighed.
Home. He was fairly certain he could hear the word in her sigh, and he had to believe that she heard it to. That she felt it, even if they hadn’t spoken the words yet.
When dawn was just around the corner, Kat’s blinks grew longer and longer, and when he pulled her close so she was resting against him, in his arms, she didn’t protest.
A few minutes later, her breathing deepened and she was asleep against his chest.
He toyed with her curls, a smile on his lips as he held her close and closed his eyes, more content than he’d ever been in his life.
Just before he passed out beside her, he took a moment to revel in the fact that he’d finally done it.
He’d finally found home.
The next morning, he was kicked out.
He woke to find a Kat with a disheveled head of hair staring down at him, gnawing at her bottom lip and looking so adorable it hurt.
But she also looked…vulnerable. Not weak. Never weak, he realized. But she looked uncertain and somewhat…afraid? He sat up straight on the couch, nearly knocking a mug of coffee out of her hand as she went to hand it to him.
“So, um, that was a fun night.” Her tone and her expression were anything but fun, and she was looking anywhere but in his eyes.
“Yeah, it was fun.” Okay, seriously, what was he missing here? “So why do I get the feeling you’re glad it’s over.”
Then it clicked. Of course, how stupid of him to think that she’d forgive him so quickly. It might take a while but he’d get through to her eventually. “If you’re still angry with me because of the whole company buyout thing—”
“It’s not that.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, it kind of is, but not for the reason you think. I’m wrapping my head around the idea that my job may not have been the best position for me. I’ve been thinking about what I’ll do next and I’m not sure…”
She trailed off and he heard her sigh. “Sorry, I’m babbling. The point is…” She lifted her gaze and finally met his. “You have to leave.”
He blinked. And then he stared. Because, really, this was the first time he’d ever been kicked out of…well, anywhere. It didn’t immediately compute. “You want me to leave.”
She gave a short nod. “I’m sorry to be rude, but we did agree to one night.” Her voice had a slightly pleading quality to it that made him feel like he’d been kicked in the gut. It also finally got him moving, straightening his shirt and running a hand through his hair.
That was right. One night. That had been his awesome idea.
What kind of conceited jerk thought he could win a girl over in one night? Especially when he’d made such a mess of things in the first place. “Just give me a little more time.”
Oh crap, was that him talking? It sounded like a whiny little girl. But honestly, he didn’t really care. If he had to fall down on his knees and beg for another chance, he would.
But judging by the pained expression on her face, begging would only make this harder for her.
“Tell me why,” he demanded. He might not have the most experience with women—well, not with wooing the woman he wanted to marry, at least. But he was good at troubleshooting. That was one skill he could claim and right now maybe it would come in handy. “Tell me what I can do to make things right.”
She groaned and he almost felt bad for pressing the issue since it was clearly causing her pain. “You can’t fix it.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” she started before fading off.
“Because why?”
She inhaled quickly. “Because I’m not ready to fall in love.”
The words rang out between them as her cheeks turned pink and his heart leaped to get out of his chest.
“You love me,” he breathed.
She shook her head so quickly he knew he was right. “Of course not, I barely know you.”
He grinned, too happy to care that she looked ready to kill him for his happiness. “I barely know you either, but I know I’m in love with you.”
Man, it felt so good to say those words out loud. His whole body felt lighter. His lungs filled with a deep breath like he hadn’t drawn air in years. Like he’d been waiting forever to get those words out, and to this woman. Right here, right now.
It had all been leading to this.
“That’s insane.” She darted over to the bathroom and disappeared for a minute before reappearing with a toothbrush in her mouth, brushing vigorously.
A scowl marred her brow before she went back in, presumably to spit.
She came back out in a flurry of movements, tidying up the couch and the coffee table, clearing their empty mugs and straightening pillow.
“Is it?” he asked, moving toward her until he was standing just behind her in the tiny kitchen as she set their cups in the sink. “Is it really so crazy? Think about it. Aren’t there some things in life you just know? Haven’t you ever started to walk down a dark alley and gotten a bad feeling so you turned back?”
She turned around and jerked back when she realized how close he was. She pursed her lips. “That’s just common sens
e.”
She moved past him to living room and stopped to comb her fingers through her curls as she faced the mirror.
She was avoiding him something fierce.
“Okay, fine. Are you telling me you don’t have a friend or two who you’ve just clicked with. Where it felt like you’d been best friends forever even though you’d just met?”
She hesitated, her fingers freezing in her hair before starting up again. It was brief but he knew he had her.
“Haven’t you ever just known how to sell something to someone because your instincts told you what made them tick?”
He knew he had her there.
She shook her head, but not in answer to his question. By the emotions flickering across her face, he’d bet money she was in the midst one heck of an internal battle.
“That’s different,” she said, spinning around to face him. “That’s friends and business. That’s not….”
He watched with some amusement as she struggled to say the word.
“Love?” he suggested.
“Ugh.” Her grunt was accompanied by a sneer.
So, his soulmate was not a romantic. Good to know.
“You basically admitted it,” he reminded her. “You said you’re not ready to fall in love. Clearly you wouldn’t be thinking about love if you weren’t starting to feel it already.”
She gaped at him. “Would you please stop saying that word?”
“What, love?” he teased. “Love, love, love, love—”
“Oh my word, you’ve lost it.” She crossed her arms with a huff.
She was still wearing the oversized sweatshirt and yoga pants. It looked good on her. Everything looked good on her. But one day he’d love to treat her to clothes of the highest quality. Silks and cashmere. Maybe jewelry, if she’d allow it. Eventually. One day. Not now, obviously, or he would probably be strangled with it.
“You need to go now,” she said.
He looked for any sign of kidding but her face meant business and he sure as heck wasn’t going to push himself on her…any more than he already had. So he moved to the door with a sigh.
“I’m not giving up,” he felt compelled to tell her, just in case she got the wrong idea.
Once Upon a Lumberjack Page 11
