Chapter 8
Alex
It feels like New York’s streets are, once again, chronically jammed and traffic is crawling along at a snail’s pace.
In reality, though, I made it here in record time, pull up double-parked in front of Beth’s little shop, right next to Jake’s flashy ride, and roll down my window. But the car’s empty.
I quickly peer into the shop, squint, and I’m pretty sure I see Jake in there kissing Beth’s hand and...
"All right, all right. I’m moving," I bark at the driver behind me through my rearview mirror, his horn making it crystal clear what he thinks of my pit stop. I’d love to get out and tell him exactly what I think.
I’d love even more to yank Jake out of that store and.
.. My knuckles go white on the wheel, because the thought of losing Beth and the shop to Jake drives me crazy.
The Beth part a little more than I want to admit.
In general, I can’t stand the idea of him winning.
I should be the one who wins. That’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it damn well needs to stay.
About a hundred yards down the street I find a tiny parking spot in a city where parking is always in short supply.
It takes some doing to shoehorn the Bentley in, which of course earns me a few more honks and wild gestures from the driver behind me.
I don’t care. I’ve got more important things to do.
I hop out, jog toward the shop, and wonder if Jake managed to wrap her around his finger. The thought is hard to stomach, and in my head I’m picturing myself pulling them apart, appealing to Beth’s conscience first, then going for Jake’s throat and...
No, that’s complete nonsense. That would only earn me an even darker look from her. I needed to do something, but I had no idea what. I wanted to go all in: for the shop and for Beth.
But maybe... I stop short, because the shop door swings open when I’m only a few steps away. Jake comes out. Alone. He spots me, shoots me a sullen look, and rubs his reddened cheek.
Inside, I’m doing a silent victory cheer. She slapped him. Beth is just brilliant, she’s...
Then I remember she shoved me back then too, and we still ended up in bed. Maybe I’m celebrating too soon.
"Good talk?" I ask anyway, grinning wide because I want to look as triumphant as possible in front of Jake.
"I hope she hits you even harder. Tough little thing," he says, surprisingly curt this time, heads to his car, and drives off without another word, which really isn’t like him.
I take a deep breath and feel my fingers tremble just a little. Is it possible I’m nervous to face her again because I don’t know what’s going to happen? That doesn’t happen to me with any other woman. But Beth...
Yeah, she’s just different. Fiery different, and I like that. But maybe I need to ease my way back to that fire if I want it again. Maybe the usual conquest routine doesn’t work with her. If I remember right, it didn’t a year ago either. So why would it be different now?
Jake’s red cheek was a glaring example of that. Maybe I should just take it slower. Be careful. I inhale again, climb the three little steps, and open the shop door.
As I step in, I wonder why I’m even doing this, because Jake’s attempt failed and I only came here to stop him. So there’s really nothing left for me to do. And yet I’ve walked into the shop on autopilot and...
Oh shit!
When our eyes meet, I feel my breath hitch for a second.
She’s standing there in a floral top, a little stretched at the edges, and through the thin fabric I can see the outline of her gorgeous nipples, those even more gorgeous breasts.
I think of what I did with that last year, and I can practically feel how just the thought gets me going.
Sweatpants, and little strands of her wild, curly hair sticking out in every direction. I’ve got to admit, I rarely find loungewear this hot.
Seconds tick by while we just stare at each other and no one says a word.
"What do you want?" Beth asks, folding her arms over her chest. "You going to throw ten thousand dollars on the counter too for dinner and the shop?"
"What...? What are you talking about?" I ask, baffled.
"Oh, come on. It can’t be a coincidence that you show up right after this Jake was here, who slapped ten thousand dollars on the counter if he could have my shop and take me out for a night. Are you two brothers? Business partners? Or gay friends?"
I can’t help it; I have to laugh at that last comment.
"Jake is..." I stop. What do I say? I don’t want to lie. But I also don’t want to come right out and tell her I’m interested in the shop too and absolutely don’t want Jake getting his hands on it.
She’d definitely send me packing again. And I don’t want that.
I’d much rather enjoy this stunning view.
Maybe the art of omission will do. Say little, but keep it true.
"We go back. He used to work for me and..."
"Then he learned his bad manners from you," she cuts in, and I’m actually grateful for it.
"You gave him an appropriate answer," I say, grin a little, and am pleased to see a smile forming on her lips too, so I carefully take a few steps toward her.
"I told him to donate the money to the animal shelter and leave me alone."
"Good idea," I say. "The shelters must be overflowing. Otherwise I can’t explain why someone left an injured cat on my doorstep today."
"There are some real bastards on this planet," she says, looking me dead in the eye. The double meaning is hard to miss.
"About what happened a year ago..." I begin. "Let me finish. Please," I practically beg as she raises her index finger, shakes her head, and steps closer, and I can see her cheeks flush.
"You have ten seconds," she snaps, crossing her arms and standing right in front of me.
"My assistant lured me into the office under false pretenses. An alleged emergency. A minor issue with my helicopter. When I got back, you were gone. And my assistant wanted to sleep with me and..."
"Time’s up. So that’s your explanation? That you screwed your assistant?" she asks sharply, staring at me in disbelief. I get it: why the hell can’t I get to the point? Why do words fail me around her?
"No. We didn’t have sex. I fired her on the spot and hired a male assistant and..." I swallow the lump in my throat, step a little closer, and look her straight in the eye. "I thought about you a lot. About our night and how good it was. I’m sorry it had to end like that."
Beth says nothing. She stands there, thunderstruck, not reacting at all. I don’t know what she expects now or what I expect from her, so I just follow my instinct. I move in, slowly, toward her beautiful face, breathe in her scent. Our lips are only an inch or two apart and...
"I can’t..." she whispers.
I stop, look at her, and slowly pull back.
"I’m sorry, I..." she begins.
"I’m sorry. I came on too strong. Sorry," I say, taking two steps back to reestablish the space between us.
She didn’t want to kiss me, but there’s something there. I see it in her eyes. She seems to be fighting herself, and I don’t know why. What’s tormenting her? Did I hurt her that badly? Or is there something else going on?
"Go out with me! Tonight!" The words leave my mouth before I can think. Great, Alex. So much for taking it slow.
"Please," I add. Am I really begging her for a date? Did I leave my masculinity somewhere at the door?
"Just dinner. As an apology for back then," I add again, because Beth still hasn’t said anything and is just staring at me.
"I... have to take care of something. There are online orders... my temp and... Veronica. Also... I... I mean, the apartment upstairs, it’s not tidy and..." Beth babbles.
Her jumbled words make me grin. She’s nervous. It’s kind of cute. I should give her time to handle whatever she needs to handle. At least she didn’t tell me to my face she never wants to see me again. Compared to our first run-in at this very shop, that’s a pretty big step forward.
"Here," I say, spin the notebook on the counter next to her around, and write my number on it with a ballpoint pen. Then I turn back to her, and I can’t help myself: I gently run my index finger along her cheek. She lets me, and I can feel the touch turning me on all over again.
"Take as much time as you want and handle whatever you need to handle. Call me and we’ll go to dinner. Whenever you want."
Beth says nothing. She just nods.
Then I raise a hand in a little wave and feel ridiculous doing it. But if I get close to her again, I won’t just kiss her cheek; I’ll pin her against a wall and...
"I should go now," I say, mechanical, trying to switch off the movie in my head. Beth nods again. I turn and leave the shop, and I honestly don’t know if I just took a step forward or three steps back.