The Life That Mattered (The Life Series Book 1)

by Jewel E. Ann

  “Marshmallows.” I grinned.

  He cocked his head a fraction.

  “Marshmallows go in hot chocolate. Whipped cream goes on pumpkin pie. Everyone knows that.”

  Ronin handed me his best smile. I think. It was really good. I couldn’t wait to see more. Then I’d know if he gave me his best one that day.

  “What are you doing for dinner tonight?” He nudged the toe of his black boot against the toe of my pink oil-stained Ugg.

  Butterflies. Erratic breaths. Tingling. Goose bumps.

  Ronin gave me all the feelings. If he was just a test run, a stop along the way to the man of my dreams, then said man must not have been human. Something told me the bar was not simply high; it was officially unreachable.

  “I’m thinking Thai, right across the street. I’ll probably be there around five-thirty. What are you doing?”

  He rubbed his lips together, staring at our boots. “Same.”

  I nudged the toe to his other boot the way he nudged my toe. “Do you want to share a table?”

  He nodded several times, keeping his gaze pointed downward. “Probably.”

  Probably. He said that when I joked (but only sort of) about him marrying me. I liked his almost certain response. It set my hopes high but left just enough doubt to make my heart continue to search for something resembling a normal beat.

  “Do you ski?” He glanced up.

  My lips curled into a grin. “Possibly better than you.”

  Nope. That possibility was zero, so I’m not really sure it was a possibility. It didn’t matter. I just wanted to see the look on his face. As he let those expressive eyebrows form into curious peaks, I basked in the slight shock of his expression. For five seconds, I let him believe it—that maybe I wasn’t simply a brilliant chemist cleaning the world one bar of soap at a time, that maybe I was a badass chick on the slopes.

  “Really?” He stretched out the word into three syllables.

  I swatted at the pesky stray hair around my face that fell out of my ponytail. “No. Not really. I’m a terrible skier. It doesn’t stop me from trying. Graham and Lila love to ski, so I snowplow and sometimes slide on my ass down the runs.”

  “You’re joking.” He chuckled.

  “No. I was joking about being better than you. The sliding on my ass part is one hundred percent accurate. Graham has literally taken me down the slope on his back while Lila carried my skis. And don’t assume this isn’t an embarrassing revelation about myself. It is because I was born here. Maybe not to an Olympic skier, but I’ve been on skis my whole life. My dad says I ski like a car with square tires. Sure, it’s doable, but never pretty. I’m not athletically gifted at all. Which is weird because I love sports. As in … I will watch any sport. That’s why Graham and I are such good friends. Whereas Lila hates watching sports, but the woman can do anything. You should see her on skis or snowboarding. She’s phenomenal. It’s just not fair.”

  Ronin maintained an unreadable expression. Was it shock in his furrowed brow? Complete disbelief? Or something else?

  Oh shit!

  Was it a deal breaker? Why would a ski patroller want to date a woman who couldn’t ski? I overshared. The butterflies dropped dead in the pit of my stomach; their little wings tried to work against the impossible gravity of my unfortunate confession.

  “I made everything in this store. Well, everything except the packaging. I even make my own essential oils. And they’re very pure—medicinal. I’m an excellent chemist.”

  Well, there he had it. My dating résumé. Who wouldn’t want to date an excellent chemist? Surely, all tall, athletic, sexy men dreamed of women wearing goggles and white lab coats.

  I bowed my head, covering my face with my hands while I whispered a laugh. “I’m not bragging. It’s just … soap. Yes, saponification is my super power. Impressed?”

  “Wildly,” he replied on a soft chuckle.

  I giggled, letting my hands drop from my face. Ronin greeted me with a lopsided grin.

  Screw it. This is me. Take it or leave it.

  “Are you going to recommend soap and lip balm, or should I ask your employee out front?”

  “No. I’d prefer you not talk, smile, or look at Sophie again … ever.”

  “No?” Ronin followed me out front.

  I shook my head, breezing past the cash register straight to the men’s display. “Definitely not. She’s in heat.”

  “Who’s in heat?” Sophie asked from behind the register as I pulled products from the shelves for Ronin.

  “No one.” I turned with a tight-lipped smile and set the products on the counter. “My entire men’s line.” I wrapped the soaps, moisturizers, lip balms, body sprays, and facial scrubs in paper, then arranged them in a bag.

  “Two hundred, thirty-six, seventeen,” Sophie gave Ronin a total for the products.

  “No!” I cringed. “He gets the ski patrol discount.”

  “The what?” Sophie squinted.

  I took half off the total. It was still close to a hundred and twenty dollars in body care products.

  He handed me a credit card.

  I couldn’t do it.

  “We’re starting a free trial program.”

  “We are?” Sophie asked.

  I twisted my body to face her, eyes wide, lips set into a line. “Sophie, could you go in the back and finish unpacking and inventorying the herbs?”

  “Are you going to explain the free trial to me later?”

  I relinquished a single nod, maintaining a stiff smile. Sophie shot Ronin a flirty grin before disappearing into the back room.

  “I don’t need a discount or a free trial. But that’s really cool of you to offer that to ski patrol. I’ll spread the word. Half off is huge.”

  Yes. It really was. It was the discount you gave when you didn’t want to stay in business.

  “The free trial is new. Maybe don’t mention it until I get the kinks worked out. But I’d love to see the ski patrol use my products. So … yeah. Spread the word on the discount.”

  Just like that … the ski patrol discount became a real thing at Clean Art. Great advertising. As long as all of my customers weren’t ski patrol, I’d be fine.

  “There’s no discount, is there?” He chuckled, trying again to hand me his credit card.

  “There is now.” I laughed, hugging my arms to my chest. “No. There wasn’t. But there should be because I know they work hard, putting their own lives in danger to keep everyone else safe. Therefore, there is now officially a fifty-percent off discount for ski patrol.”

  “They do … we do.” He waved his credit card in front of my face.

  I grimaced. “I can’t. I can’t let you pay for anything.”

  “Why?” He tapped the card on the counter.

  “Because you already admitted that you’d probably marry me. And family gets free products. Or you can think of it as a parting gift because I bet you have no interest in seeing me again since I’ve mentioned marriage twice in two weeks.” I blew out a long breath, releasing the residual crazy from my body.

  “Family gets free products? For life?”

  My cheeks burned as I bit my lip to keep from smiling too big or laughing too much. Where was he going with this?

  “My mom and sister-in-law would love this. And I have two nieces. But if your men’s line is as good as I imagine it is … my dad and brother will want in on the family discount too.”

  Twisting my lips, I returned a sharp nod, wide-eyed and dramatic.

  “Perfect.” He pocketed his credit card, grabbed the paper bag handles, and then … he leaned over the counter and pressed his lips to my cheek. “See you at dinner, dear.” Ronin strutted out of my store.

  My hand inched to my cheek where he kissed me.

  It was a game. I started it, so of course I got it. But “dear?” And the kiss? Ronin took the game to the next level.

  “Oh my god … who was that guy?” Sophie peeked her snoopy head out of the back room.

&nb
sp; “He’s …” I couldn’t even formulate complete thoughts or speak them with my jaw hanging on the ground and my cheek on fire. “Mine.” I scrounged a tiny grin for Sophie. “He’s mine.”

  She did her headshake and grumbled before returning to the task I gave her.

  “Please be mine,” I whispered to myself with the tips of my fingers still pressed to the exact spot his lips touched my cheek.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ronin

  “Am I waking you?”

  Dad laughed. “Almost.”

  “Where in the world are you?” I really had no idea. My parents traveled all the time.

  “Cologne.”

  “Germany. Nice. Is the birthday girl still awake?”

  “Barely. I’ll let you chat with her.”

  “Thanks.”

  A few seconds later, my mom cleared her throat. “Ronin.”

  “Happy birthday, Mom.”

  “Thank you, sweetie.”

  “I tried you earlier today. I’m barely making it under the wire now.”

  “It’s just another day. How’s Aspen? Have you started work yet?”

  “Just some orientation. I’ll start full-time soon. But I’m settled into my condo. You should come visit soon.”

  “Oh! Is it snowing there already?”

  “No.”

  She grunted. “Then you know your father will not be visiting quite yet.”

  “Fair enough. Did Julien call?”

  “Yes. He called this morning.”

  “He video chatted with her,” Dad yelled in the background. “Showed her the water lily mobile he made for her birthday.”

  “Aw … sounds nice,” I replied with as much sincerity as I could muster. My brother was two years younger than me. He had a wife and two daughters and a booming career as a successful artist. Some of his recycled-material mobiles hung in art museums.

  I epitomized the opposite of Julien. My first real companion, a rescue dog named Rex, died of cancer. Gianna, my girlfriend of two years, left me because she thought my life was too unsettled for her relationship goals. And … I was the worst gift-giver—ever.

  In my defense, it’s not that I lacked the desire to be a generous person. I wanted to be amazing in that department. I also wanted to travel by teleportation. If I’m completely honest, I had a better chance at that than becoming the Martha Stewart of great gifts.

  “It’s a lovely mobile, but this call from you means just as much to me,” Mom reassured me.

  The truth? She absolutely meant it. My mom watched me agonize over gifts for as long as I can remember being old enough to buy gifts for other people. I missed the days of messy glitter glue and scribbled stick figures on a card made from folding a piece of construction paper in half. She loved that stuff, still had every card Julian and I made. Of course … Julien’s cards were origami cranes or some exceptional shit like that.

  “I won’t keep you. I know it’s late there. Just wanted to tell you I love you and wish you a happy birthday.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart. Have you made friends?”

  I chuckled. She asked me this every time I moved to a new location. And by friends, she meant had I met a woman. My usual answer was no. Then she responded with a sigh because she wanted grandkids from me so badly. My generation’s lackadaisical attitude toward starting a family drove her crazy. Julien, however, also set the bar too damn high by marrying the first girl he kissed and spreading his biological seeds as quickly as possible. He didn’t get the memo about our generation.

  “As a matter of fact …”

  “Oh, Ronin! Tell me all about her—or him. You know we don’t care.”

  “Thanks. It really is kind of you to respect my sexual preference. However, she’s a woman. I met her in Vancouver, but she lives here in Aspen. We had breakfast and dinner the day we met, and we’re having dinner tonight. Happy birthday.”

  She laughed. “That’s really why you called. You knew the best birthday present you could give me is this.”

  I silently commended her for not giving unnecessary emphasis on the word you.

  Julien made a work of art. I met a girl.

  The honorable mention son.

  Don’t get me wrong. Julien was amazing. I knew the mobile had to be great. Evelyn, however, was stunning beyond words. So … I won that round.

  “Of course, I knew my gift would please you. Also, she’s agreed to marry me. We haven’t sorted the details.”

  Silence.

  “Um … wow! Okay …”

  I chuckled. “What? Isn’t this what you’ve wanted for years?”

  “Well, yes. But I just thought. I mean, you’ve known her how long?”

  “Technically two weeks. But we’ve been together about eight to nine hours total.” I rubbed my mouth to hide my smirk that she couldn’t see anyway.

  “And you proposed?” Her voice shot up an octave.

  “Not exactly. She suggested it, and I didn’t think it was a terrible idea.”

  “Wh-what exactly does that mean?”

  “It means I’m joking just to get a reaction out of you.”

  “Oh, Ronin! You don’t even have a date tonight, do you?”

  I laughed. “I do. That part is true. Her name is Evelyn. She’s a chemist who makes body products. She owns a store here in Aspen called Clean Art. You’d like her.”

  “Do you like her?”

  “Well, I’m having dinner with her, so yes. It’s safe to say I like her. Probably more than makes sense given our nine-hour acquaintance.”

  “She’s special. I can tell. I can tell from the tone of your voice.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair and flipped on the shower since I took a hike after visiting Evelyn. “Yes. I think she’s special.” The words sounded so foreign to me. Did they really come out of my mouth? I hadn’t known her long enough for my feelings to make sense, but some things didn’t make sense. That didn’t make them less true. Less real.

  “Trust that. I know it’s hard for you to trust your feelings since …” She trailed off.

  Since my accident. Sometimes I felt things that weren’t mine to feel.

  “One day at a time. Love you, Mom.”

  Evelyn breezed into the restaurant ten minutes late, peeling her unruly blond hair from her face, vibrant blue eyes scanning the tables. I didn’t draw her attention to me yet because I wanted a moment to just watch her—just one moment to sort out some things in my head.

  I admired the beautiful mess, dropping her keys on the floor, fighting to slide off her pink puffy ski jacket while it simultaneously pulled on her black sweater that hung off one shoulder. When she spied me, I smiled, and she mirrored my expression.

  Right there. That was one thing.

  Her smile, an effortless light that couldn’t be dimmed. It grew as we made eye contact, and it felt like she acknowledged something unspoken between us. I had no idea what it was, and maybe she didn’t either. It was just a feeling.

  A good feeling. I took all the good feelings I could get. Lord knows I’d had several lifetimes of the alternative.

  “Hey! Mind if I sit with you?”

  That was another thing. Her playful and flirty personality drew me into her world without even trying. I wanted to roll around in her positivity like a child in a pile of crisp leaves.

  “I insist. Besides … saving you a seat seems to be my thing. Even before we met.” I took her bag from her while she finished removing her jacket.

  “You’re such a gentleman. How un-American of you.” Her lips twisted into a devilish grin.

  “Hey, Ronin!”

  I turned to the familiar voice. “Noah, hi!”

  My boss held out his hand, and I shook it. “This is my wife, Tami. Tami, this is Ronin. He’s the reason I won’t have to work sixty hours a week.” Noah winked at me.

  Tami shook my hand. “Then it’s definitely a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You too, Tami. This is Evelyn.”

  “Wife?
Girlfriend? None of our damn business?” Noah shot Evelyn a smile.

  “All good questions.” She shoved out her hand to greet them while her gaze flitted to meet mine.

  “Indeed.” I returned a conspiratorial grin.

  Okay, Universe, Mother dearest, Cupid, and gods of romance … I get it.

  “It’s packed tonight. Friday craziness and it’s not even snowing yet. Tami, let’s grab a drink while we wait for a table.”

  “You should join us,” Evelyn said without a second of hesitation.

  Noah and Tami shifted their attention to me, a bit of unease etched onto their faces.

  I shrugged. “Absolutely.”

  Instead of sitting in the booth across from Evelyn, I sat next to her—a huge upside to eating dinner with friends. With every passing minute, my feelings about her solidified. The things multiplied. She was definitely special. As the evening progressed, I discovered Evelyn could get along with anyone. A master conversation starter. She spoke and listened with such truth. It was impossible to not feel her genuine interest in … people. Yes. Evelyn Taylor was just a great person.

  Also, as dinner progressed, we navigated closer. I wasn’t sure it was intentional or just natural—magnetic. By the time I paid the check, my hand rested on her leg, and her hand covered mine with our fingers laced together. Sadly, we were forced to let go when it was time to leave.

  “What a great evening.” Tami smiled as everyone stood.

  She was right. It had been a great evening. But so was the night in Vancouver with Graham and Lila. Again, I think with Evelyn in a group, it was impossible to not have a wonderful experience.

  I wasn’t looking for her … or anyone. Nope. Just minding my own business. Living my best life, an unsettled bachelor with no particular direction, no girlfriend, and no penchant for gift giving.

  “It really was. I’m so glad we did this.” Evelyn hugged Tami like they’d known each other for years.