Chapter 2 #3
“I own Leaf Movers. Usually, I’m in the office, but we were short staffed, so I helped out on moves.”
His smile grows wider. “I’ve seen your trucks and vans. Can’t miss neon pink.”
“That’s why I chose the color.” Bright pink with a white maple leaf. We stand out for our branding and our level of service. “What do you do?”
“I’m an architect.” He sips his martini, drawing my focus to his long fingers. “Now, tell me more about your day.”
I can’t ignore that my cock is far too interested in his hands and what he can do with them.
“I took Merlin for a long walk this morning, since I was going to be away for a bit at the game, and then Hawk called in a panic because the other guy who was supposed to umpire the games wasn’t able to do it anymore.
He asked if I could cover all of them until Griffin arrived. Griff never showed.”
Guilt clouds his gaze. “And then I was a jerk, arguing about every ball and strike.”
“Not just you.” I pass him a strawberry dipped in white chocolate and drizzled with something pink.
“As soon as I got to the field, a Mastiff barreled into me, and I landed on my knee. I was out there for hours, with people at every game yelling at me because they wanted extra chances or do-overs, or they didn’t like the pitch.
Pick a complaint, and I heard it. I got a snowball down the back of my neck. And then I lost my temper with you.”
“Well, I probably helped you lose it.” He offers me a small smile and a bite of his heart cake. Our fingers brush, and warmth curls through my chest.
“In hindsight, I’m glad you said what you did. It was a wake-up call. I didn’t realize I was scowling at everyone.”
He reaches across the table and lays his hand over mine. “If it helps, you have a sexy scowl. Very broody, like the hero of a Gothic novel.”
“Do you like Gothic novels?” If he says yes, I may have to marry the man.
His teeth press into his bottom lip, making him seem almost shy, and damn, but I like it. “I was hooked the first time I read Frankenstein. And don’t get me started on the Bronte sisters.” He sighs, and his eyes take on a dreamy quality. “Their descriptions… Who wouldn’t want to live on the moors?"
I rub my thumb over the soft skin of his knuckles.
If not marriage, at least spending more time with the only other person in New Island who likes reading the same thing I do, is a must. “I can picture you walking the overcast, moody moors. With your coloring, I think you’d be an excellent Gothic hero. ”
“Maybe.” He inclines his head. “Now that I’ve seen your smile. You definitely have golden retriever vibes.”
An enthusiastic bark followed by the scraping of a chair, yelps and a shout erupts behind us, and we turn. One of the dogs—a golden retriever wearing a handkerchief dotted with red hearts—steals a chicken sandwich off of someone’s plate.
A rumble of laughter erupts from Jaggar, and he pats my forearm. “I mean that in the best way.”
“Conall’s said the same thing to me.” The playful pat, the warmth of his laughter, the press of his foot to mine under the table make me think about the other thing Conall said. About Jaggar and me both being single.
He turns his head and smirks in Conall’s direction. Our friend is sitting at a high-top table, cradling a Chihuahua-Terrier mix in his arms, chatting with Jake and Alaric. “Conall is one of a kind.”
“He is.” I spoon some mousse. “I’ve never met an architect before. Do you work on commercial or residential properties? Or historic?”
“I’ve done a bit of everything. I work for a firm based in Burlington now. We specialize in renovating older homes. One of the last big commercial projects I worked on was designing Island Gardens.”
Island Gardens is a massive estate, spanning close to a thousand acres, with sprawling gardens, interesting architecture and fountains, spectacular displays, with a focus on conservation.
I’m beyond impressed that Jaggar was behind it.
“That place is really something. I visit a few times a year. What made you want to be an architect?”
“I like things being right, and in their place. Details. If one is off, other things get messed up. I like the order and the artistic beat built into each project. There’s nothing like seeing a design you’ve created come to life.”
I’m so drawn to him that I can’t help but lean closer.
“I’ll bet. My business is more about having to adapt on the go.
Things never go to plan during a move. But I like solving problems, making things right, and the fact that people entrust me and my employees to deliver their belongings safely means a lot to me. ”
“I can see that.” He squeezes my hand before releasing me. “I’m glad we had the chance to meet again, under better circumstances.”
“Me too.”
A bark rips through the air, and Jaggar’s smile grows so big, I could fall into it. He taps my hand as he stands. “Come meet Titan.”
“Is that a dog or a person?” I follow him through the crowd. In front of the Mutts About You table, Hawk is with a pit bull mix that lets out a happy bark when it sees Jaggar, tail wagging so hard I fear the dog is going to knock himself over.
“Titan is a pit bull and French bulldog mix.” He falls to his knees in front of the dog. It has a brown coat and golden eyes, short legs and a stocky body.
Jaggar talks to the dog, telling him what a good boy he is and asking if he’s having fun.
Hawk steps around them and joins me. “They’ve bonded. I’m just waiting for Jaggar to acknowledge it.”
My heart twinges at the love they clearly have for each other. “Was he a stray or did someone turn him in?”
“He was found as a stray, wandering around. He had several scars and was underweight. We think Titan is about two years old. The poor guy has been in the shelter for a year, and he keeps getting overlooked.” Hawk shakes his head like he doesn’t understand how anyone wouldn’t find the ugly little guy anything but magnificent.
Someone across the room calls his name. With a pat to my arm, Hawk heads in their direction. I crouch beside Jaggar and wait for Titan to notice me. He rubs his head right into my hand as if we’re long-lost friends. “A lot of people are wary of pit bulls, but I hope he finds a home.”
“I’ve taken him on outings and have walked him a lot.
But I’ve held off on adoption before because I was working on my house and have been on a schedule with it.
” Jaggar scratches the dog’s hindquarter, finding his tickle spot.
Titan’s back leg kicks and his jowly grin gets bigger.
“Figured I'd need to get the house done first, follow my schedule, but thanks to setbacks and delays, it hasn’t been ready. I want everything to be perfect.”
I don’t like the frown forming on his face or the stress lacing his words. “Understandable. Renovations rarely go to plan. Problems can uncover more problems. I’ve heard Alaric complain about some restorations he’s helped with.”
With a nod, Jaggar stands, and I follow. He feeds Titan a bone-shaped treat, and then a shelter volunteer comes forward to take Titan to the area sectioned off for the dogs to have a quiet place away from the noise and commotion.
He brushes his hands on his thighs. “Can I get you that drink?”
“Sure, but before you do, I just thought of something.” Since Jaggar is so stressed about the elephant, I want to take care of that for him, to help. “If you want, we could get one of my moving vans and get the elephant out of the room today.”
His lips part, and he gapes at me. The spark of surprise in his dark eyes sends a thrill of happiness through me. “What? Really?”
I nod. “I feel bad about how I acted during the game. Let me make it up to you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“But I want to.” My blood throbs in time with the music pulsing from the speakers as I eliminate the scant steps separating us. “Do you know where the elephant needs to go? Or are we taking it back to the store?”
“I have the address. Riddley Lane in Lowell. But maybe it should go back to the store, let them make the delivery. Lowell’s pretty far from here. The store's in Burlington.”
Lowell is easily a ninety-minute drive, but Burlington is only forty-five minutes. I'll do whatever Jaggar prefers. “Do you know if the place in Lowell got your chair? Or if they saw the error before the delivery guys left, so your chair is back at the store?”
“I didn’t think to ask. Let me call the store.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and then points toward the bar’s back patio. “Be right back.”
I can’t keep my gaze off of him. The way he moves, the lines of his body, the thick dark hair I want to touch.
Jaggar is an unexpected surprise and utter relief in a day plagued by pain and discomfort.
Guilt over the way we met still eats at me, and the urge to make it up to him burns so bright it could power all of Vermont.
Hawk and Colt wander over, with Conall in the middle. He tips his chin at Jaggar and me. “You two are getting along well.”
“The difference a beer and an apology make.” I meet Jaggar’s gaze. We share a smile filled with knowing that feels almost intimate.
Colt rests his hand on Hawk’s shoulder. “How’s your knee?”
Shrugging, I adjust my stance to take pressure off my knee, and realize I haven't noticed the pain since I've been with Jaggar. Even when I knelt down to pet Titan. “Not too bad now. I took some pain meds when I stopped at home to shower and wrapped it for extra support. Anyone hear from Griffin?”
“He texted me a few minutes ago.” Conall lowers his voice like he has some big secret to share, causing us all to lean in so we can hear him over the din of conversations and excited dogs.
“Apparently, the dog that ran out on the road is named Cupid. And the tow truck driver who helped him get his car out of the bank is single, so Griff thinks it’s Valentine’s Day serendipity and totally a love match.
They’re having dinner together tonight.”