Chapter 8
The alarm sounded, and I rolled over to press the button to stop Lady Gaga blaring from the speakers. When silence returned, I flopped back onto my pillows to try and shake sleep from my brain.
Today was my birthday. I was one year off thirty, and for some reason, that triggered a starter gun in my brain.I was officially in a race to the finish line,althoughwhat the prize would be when I got there was still a mysteryto me.
I stood, opened the blinds, and blazing sunshine lit up my room. Squinting against the glare, I stepped onto the balcony and breathed in the crisp ocean air. It was another beautiful winter’s day on the Gold Coast, and despite being a Thursday, people were everywhere. I put my hands over my head and stretched from side to side as I inhaled through my nose andout through mymouth.
The serenity was a magic potion, andwith each breath,I felt more alive.
Wide awake now, I pondered the next couple of hours with my lunch date. It didn’t take rocket science to figure out how Clayton had learned it was my birthday. . . Lolita. As much as I had wanted my birthday to slip by unnoticed, she’d insisted on the opposite. Lolly had been beside herself with worry overnot being ableto celebrate with me today. I could just picture how furious she would have been with the doctor who chose today to do minor surgery on her son’sobviouslypainful ingrown toenail. I shuddered at the ugly memory of it.
Lolita had ‘fixed’ the problem of missing my birthday, though. She’d contacted Clayton, and no doubt pleaded with him to take me out for lunch, and as he would have had to take time off work to be with me, I feltquiteguilty about that.
As I stood on the balcony, though,and marveled at my magnificent vista, I grew grateful that Lolita had made plans for me.The weather was perfect for a long lunch with a nice guy.
Iwent backinside, pouredstrong,hot coffee into my new Friesian cow mug from Henry, and carried it to the bathroom. As I showered, I wondered where Clayton was taking me this time. Somewhere with a view, I hoped.
I blow-dried my hair and ran the heating wand over it to make soft curls. After a dab of makeup to eradicate my freckles, I darkened my lashes and blushed my cheeksa bit. For a dose of color, I touched some Bobbi Brown Retro Red lipstick to my lips. I rubbed them together and smiled. I was happy with my look. Hopefully, Clayton would behappy, too.
Of all the men I’d met this year, which one would Itrulylike to have my birthday lunch with? There were so many it was impossible to narrow my chosen man down to one.Asall mywonderfuloptions danced through my mind, I walked to my closet.
With my lippy as my inspiration, I pulled my red knee-high boots from the closet. Redboots for the birthday girl. Perfect choice. I plucked my black wrap dress from the hanger and put it on, weaving my arms in and wrapping it around my waist almost twice to tie it at my hip. The dress had short sleeves, and as it was a bit cool outside, I found a colorful woolen scarf with a cute little knotted fringe and curled it around my neck a few times to hang loosely.
I was tempted to put my trench coat over the top but settled on a black jacket with leather trimmings instead. I tugged on my boots and checked my reflection in the mirror.Thiswas good.Just enough to make me feel special, yet not so over the top that I’d stand out in a crowd.
Five minutes before Claytonwas due to pickme up, I grabbed a red Michael Kors tote from the top of my closet.It had a pair of gold zips that could be maneuvered by cute soft leather tassels. I tossed in my sunglasses,lippy, cash, and credit card, and with one last glance in the mirror, I headed downstairs.
Clayton waited for me at the hotel drop-off zone,andhewaved as soon as I walked out of the sliding glass doors.He looked stylish in dark blue slacks and a white business shirt rolled up at the cuffs. His shoes and belt were matching brown leather.Forthe first time with him, I felt like my outfit was suitable.
He greeted me with a glorious smile and a kiss on my cheek. “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” Clayton smelled divine. Floraland spice and everything nice.
He guided me to his car and held the door open for me to climb in. Seconds later, he slipped into the driver’s seat. “Did you have a nice morning?”
“Nothing special. A few hours’ sleep was good, though.” I buckled up.
“I’m glad you had some rest.”
“How’s work?” I asked.
“It’s good. It’s even better to sneak away with you, though.” He grinned, and a lovely tingle rolled through my body.
“Do I ask where we are going? Or is it a surprise?”
He pulled out into the traffic. “Hmmm. I think I’ll keep it as a surprise.”
“Okay.” I relaxed on the seat and studied the eclectic mix of people enjoying the beautiful day outside.People from all walks of life came to the Gold Coast. Young. Old. Families. Singles. Groupsof girls. Groupsof guys. Andbusinesspeople wanting a treat of sun and surf amidst their conference sessions.
Clayton followed the roadthat ranparallel to the beach, heading toward Sea World. It was the same direction we’d gone last time we’d had lunch at that fancy restaurant where Dontrel, my sexy Jamaican drummer, had been performing. I hoped we weren’t going there again. Without Lolly to help me, I wouldn’t know what to do if I ran into Dontrela second time.
My brain-scramble settled when we drove past the marina.Four minutes later,Clayton pulled into a parking lot that overlooked the ocean.A long wooden jetty led out from the shoreline like an outstretched arm.
“Come on then.” He popped the trunk, unbuckled, and climbed out.
The gentle ocean breeze blew a wisp of hair across my face, and I tucked it behind my ear and hopped out. I shut the door at the same time as Clayton slammed the trunk. I met him at the back of the car.
“I hope you like picnics.”
I was grateful for my sunglasses because tears sprung to my eyes as I recalled my special picnic with Henry. “I love picnics.”
“Good. Here, can you carry this?”
He handed me a tartan picnic blanket and a padded carry bag, and I reflected further on my morning with Henry. My insides curled with my lovely thoughts, but I smacked my horny memories aside and forced my undivided attention to the wonderful man at my side.
He reached for my hand, and with a picnic basket curled over his other arm, we walked together across the grass toward a large, shady Pandanus palm. A picnic tableconveniently positionedin the shade was vacant, and I had the ridiculous feeling that Clayton had planned that, too.
“Give me a moment,” he saidas he putthe basket on the wooden bench seat.
I shared my gaze between the magnificent scenery and Clayton’s attention to the table setting. He tossed the picnic blanket over the weathered wood and proceeded to pluck one item after another from the basket.
“What can I do?” I asked as he secured a stack of napkins with a couple of knives.
“You can get the champagne out if you like?” He pointed at the padded bag I’d carried.
I unzipped the bag, and the second I removed the bottle of Veuve Clicquot Champagne, I had a flashback to the first day of January when I’d opened thisexactsame brand of bubbles and sipped it all alone in my bathtub.
Wow. My life has changed a thousand-fold since then.
I peeled off the gold foil and twisted the metal tie to wriggle it off the cork.
“Here, allow me.” Clayton took the bottle from me, and after a couple of seconds, the cork popped out, flew into palm branches, and landed in a sandy patch amongst the grass. I giggled as I fetched it.
Clayton poured the golden bubbles into two long-stemmed crystal glasses he’d placed on the table and then handed one to me.
“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”
Afraidthat mychin would dimple with my swelling emotion, I sipped the champagne. The Veuve was sweet, cold, and absolutely perfect, as was his choice for my birthday lunch. I’d never pictured Clayton as a picnic guy, yet I wasn’t entirely sure why I hadn’t.
Heindicated forme to sit, and together, we wriggled into the bench seat and sat side by side, facing the ocean. “Isn’t this magic?”
He must’ve read my mind. “It truly is. Have you been here before?”
“Quite often, actually. Telitha and I sometimes bring Clancy here for a run.”
I frowned, and he aimed a finger down toward the shoreline. “It’s the only beach around here where dogs are allowed.”
Several dogs ran along the water’s edge. “What sort of dog do you have?”
“Clancy is a caramel and white Beagle—a little pocket rocket. He and my daughter are inseparable. You should see them go crazy on the beach. It’s exhausting just watching them.”
“You sit here and watch?”Iwas curiouswhy he didn’t run around with them too.
“Yeah, I usually read the Sunday paper while they run amuck.”
“Hmmm, sounds nice.”
I tried to picture how I’d fit into that scenario. I was not a ‘sit and read the paper’ kind of girl. Was that because I’d never done it? I was more likely to run around on the beach. But would that be weird with someone else’s child? Would Telitha even want me there?
“The dog was a lifesaver, actually.” Clayton interrupted my tumbling thoughts.
“Oh, how’s that?”
“He helped Telitha take her mind off her mom.”
I nodded, and unsure what to say, I sipped the champagne.
Clayton opened a Tupperware dish and held it toward me. Inside was a selection of sandwiches.“I made chicken, lettuce and mayonnaise, beef with mustard,andturkey and cranberry.”
“Wow, you’ve been busy.”
He laughed. “Not really. Telitha helped.”
“Oh.” It took all my might not to gasp at him. “She knows about me?” I reached for a turkey sandwich and set it on the red plastic plate he’d supplied.
“Yes, of course.Shemet you at Savannah’s birthday party. Remember?”
“Uh-huh.” Did our brief hello constitute as meeting me? It was more a fleeting glance than anything. All of a sudden, this ‘thing’ with Clayton was becomingserious, and I wasn’t sure I was ready. Everything about him wasamazing, except for the instant family. A man with a daughter and a dog was a huge commitment.
Is that what I want?
“Happy birthday.” His grin was enormous.
My heart leaped to my throat at the tiny box, wrapped perfectly in red paper with a gold bowthat heheld toward me. My fingers trembled as I reached for it.
“Oh, Clayton. Youreallydidn’t have to.” I trembled both inside and out as I pulled on the gold ribbon. Please, please, don’t let this be a ring.
The ribbon fell aside, and I clenched my teeth as I flipped up the lid.Relief drained the blood from my body as I stared at the beautiful silver pendantcenteredintheblack velvet.
“It’s Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travel.”
“It’s beautiful.” I lifted the silver disk onto my finger and ran my thumb over the raised figurine in the middle.
“You told me you wanted to travel. I didn’t know what else to get you.”
I smiled and leaned toward him, and as our lips met for a brief kiss, my mind flipped with my swirling emotions.
He stepped out from the bench seat and stood. “Can I put it on for you?”
“Yes, please.” I handed the case toward him and watched as he unclipped the chain from the velvet inlay. His hands were immaculate, with neatly trimmed, clean nails and supple skin, devoid of calluses from manual labor. A delicious shudder rolled through me as he unraveled my scarf and draped his fingers across my neck to clip the chainin place.
“It’s white gold.I wasn’t sure which youpreferas you don’t wearanyjewelry. Butwith your coloring I thought this would suit you.”
White gold! Oh my god.
“Here, take a look.” He held his phone toward me, and as I glanced at my reflection in his camera, he clicked off a few shots with him leaning over my right shoulder.
Our first couple photo.I smacked that silly thought aside. “It’s too much, Clayton.”
He wriggled in beside me again. “Don’t be silly. I manage a jewelry store. You’d be stunned at the markup. Another sandwich?”
As I reached for a chicken sandwich with one hand, I fiddled with my new piece of jewelry with my other and realized that, excluding my extensive shoe and bag collection, this just became the most expensive thing I owned. How could it be that at twenty-nine, I owned nothing? That thought struck me from nowhere.
I had nothing else of value.
No car. No home. No shares—hell, I didn’t even own a computer.
Wow. I should consider myself lucky that a man as gorgeous and established at Clayton was even interested in me.
“Cheers.” Clayton held his glass toward me, and I raised mine, interested in what he’d be toasting to this time. “To the birthday girl. May all your wishes come true.”
I sipped the delicate bubbles and thought about the only wish that meant anything to me. I wished to find the man of my dreams. As I glanced at Clayton, and he, in turn, stared out over the ocean and munched on a sandwich, I wondered if I already had.
As the afternoon rolled on, we moved on from the sandwiches to a cheese platter he laid out with three cheeses, paté, crackers, nuts, and dried apricots. Our conversation flowed easily, and we laughed together as he told stories about crazy customers and his daughter’s funny antics.
The breeze picked up, producing tiny goosebumps that dotted along my arm. Clayton must have noticed because he gathered my scarf from my lap, wrapped it around my neck, then put his arm across my shoulder and tugged meto him. I nestled into his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat.
“It’s getting cool now.” Heran his free hand up and down my arm.“Come on. I’ll get you home so you canhave asleep before your shift.”
Iplaced my hand onhis leg and pulled back to look at him. “Thank you for a wonderful birthday.”
He smiled, and when he leaned toward me, our lips met. It was a soft kiss that had my insides dancing.
Together, we returned everything to the car and hopped in, and within twenty minutes, he pulled up at the drop-off zone at the Hot Horizon Hotel.
He came around to open the car door for me, and when I stood, we kissed again. “Thank you for a wonderful day and this beautiful necklace.” I ran my finger over the pendant.
He cupped my cheek. “You’re welcome. Have a good sleep.”
I strode up the stairs and turned to wave as he drove away.
The little happy dance inside me put a spring in my step, and as I crossed the lobby, I waved at Marjorie, who was on the phone at reception. I hit the call button on the elevator, and it opened immediately, which was a nice change. I stepped in and pulled my scarf aside to look at my new necklace in the reflection. White gold really looked good on me.
The second I stepped into my apartment, my phone rang. It was Lolita.
“Hey, babe. So . . .how was it?”
I strolled to my bed and flopped back onto the covers. “It was wonderful.He’sreallynice.”
“I told you.”
“He made a picnic for me, and we sat near the beach andjusttalked for a few hours. He bought me a white-gold necklace with a Saint Christopher pendant. It’s beautiful.”
“Awww, I’m so happy for you two.”
Us two?I wasn’t sure I was happy with that reference. “Hmmm.”
“Hmmm, what?”
I contemplated hiding my stupid turmoil from her.
“Tell me!”
Avoiding the question was pointless. Lolita would get it out of me anyway. “I think he’s moving a bit faster than I am. He has a daughter, and I’mnot sureI want an instant family. He’s ready to settle down, but I want to travel the world before I have kids . . .” I blurted out every stupid doubt I had about Clayton. “He’s amazing, and I should be so lucky to catch a man like him but . . . but. . .”
“Oh, babe, you have every right to have those doubts.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Kids are hard work, and they’llimpact greatly ona new relationship. Hell, they impact every relationship. I understand exactly what you mean.”
I sighed. “I’m still not ready.”
“There’s no need to hurry.He’snot going anywhere. Just keep doing what you’re doing and see what happens. You still have twenty-one weeks left of your challenge.” It didn’t surprise me that she knew how many weeks were left. Lolly knew everything.
“But I feel like I’m cheating on him.”
“Bullshit,” sheblurted. “You’re not. You haven’t committed tohimyet. He’s just one of the guys you’ve metso farthis year. You’re not cheating on any of them.”
Was that true?I went silentas I thoughtabout the men I’d already seen a few times.Henry, Corben, Billy, Hunter, and Clayton. They were all so different; it was no wonder I was confused.
“Now,” she said, grabbing my attention, “what’re you doing tonight?”
I frowned. “Tonight? Working, of course.”
“Right. Well, I have a new challenge for you. You need to find a man and have wild, crazy, mind-blowing birthday sex. You, Jane Nichols, will have the best birthday ever. That’s an order.”
I laughed at her unbridled enthusiasm. “I’ve already had the best birthday ever.”
“And that’s a little sad. This new challenge is going to shoot it out of the stratosphere. Promise me you’ll do it.”
“I can’t promise that. There are too many variables.”
“Variables schmariables. I don’t want excuses. I just want to hear all about your birthday sex when I call you tomorrow. Promise now. Quick.”
Through my laughter, I made the ridiculous promise.
But I had no idea how I was going to keep it.