Chapter 5
Eden
Eden
What the hell do I wear?
That was the conundrum she had after she rolled out of bed at ten, ate breakfast, and hit the gym, only to come back for a shower and to see that Benson had texted her where to meet him that night – a fancy Thai place famous for its curries and homemade peanut sauce.
While it didn’t scream cocktail dress formal, Eden sure as hell wasn’t going in jeans and a blouse.
Especially since she had a feeling Benson would arrive in… well, something nicer than jeans.
Mm. He was great in jeans.
They weren’t meeting until six-thirty. Eden barely had time to hit the department store down the street and shop for a dress that was flattering and perfect for dressing up or down, depending on the situation.
Since every store now ran a skeleton crew, no one was around to help her pick something out, let alone help her into the changing room promptly.
But between the power of her phone camera and knowing all of her measurements thanks to La Mariposa’s policies, Eden soon settled on a magenta minidress that would pair well with any of her coats or jackets.
She would have hit the nearby nail salon, but her cuticles and style were still good. Instead, she went to the hairdresser, who asked what she was doing since it had only been a month since they last saw her.
She needed… something. And since she had a little spending money from the last weekend, she might as well do herself up for her big date. Which the stylist was only way too willing to talk about while they styled her hair.
Of course, Eden had to be cagey, especially with how they met.
I can’t say we met where we met… but if I suggested I’m dating my financial advisor…
No, she had to keep it neat. She could mention the fancy restaurant, how much she would like to impress him, all of that…
but Eden concocted a story about meeting at a fancy, exclusive club that a friend had invited her to.
I’m already straddling that line. The line of two Edens. She supposed the other one was simply named Brim.
Her idle nerves drove her to the coffee shop between the hair salon and her apartment. While she waited for her white mocha, she stared at her phone screen, although her eyes refused to take in anything in particular.
Not until she glanced up and saw someone she recognized walking away from the register to come wait near her.
You’ve got to be kidding me!
Eden was about to turn around and cover her face – maybe even run out of the coffee shop without grabbing her $7 drink – but it was too late. The man she had seen looked up from his phone screen and made eye contact with her.
His mouth dropped.
“What the fuck,” she squeaked.
There she was, in her velvet leggings and a baggy T-shirt and winter coat, looking into the unforgettable eyes of Neal.
What the fuck!
“Holy hell.” The man forgot his phone. Eden couldn’t hear her order being called if she cared. “What are the goddamn odds?”
“WHITE MOCHA!”
Eden scurried forward and plucked her drink off the counter. When she turned around, “Neal” was another foot closer.
“Oh, my God,” she said.
He held up a hand and took a step back. “Look, uh…” Was he blushing? Was he, of all people, blushing? He blushed more than Benson, the guy who had fucked her at the same time at the party! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!
KILL ME!
She wouldn’t mind it – if God struck her dead in the bright, industrial coffee shop between the hair salon and her studio apartment.
It was fine. She had lived an okay life.
Hell, most would say it was good! And she was flush with cash!
Plenty to cover the funeral and settle the last of her debts!
Her parents only had to worry about grieving – also paid for by her generous funds.
Because this was mortifying.
“Large Americano!”
Neal gingerly stepped past her and collected his drink. Only then did Eden realize she was blocking half the counter. Moving away made their shoulders bump together, and she yelped in fretful surprise.
While more than one person looked on, Neal nudged her arm. Before Eden knew what was happening, he had casually looped their arms together, and he expertly moved her away from the gathering crowd that waited for their drinks.
“What are you…”
But he wasn’t hauling her out of the coffee shop. Instead, he escorted her to a seat by the wall, where Eden plopped into a leather booth, and he grabbed the chair just around the corner of the table.
“Look like we’re old friends,” he said, projecting a grin to the room that still glanced in their direction. “You’re shocked because you haven’t seen me in forever. We’re going to catch up now.”
“I…”
“Trust me. Otherwise, this looks weird.”
“This is weird!” she hissed.
“Well…” He patted the top of his to-go cup with a napkin he had grabbed at the counter.
“You’re right about that. But if you get up and run out of here, people will get the wrong idea.
And guessing from the way you’re dressed, you live around here.
” He wadded up the napkin and placed the ball in the middle of the table. “Hey, this is a coincidence. You okay?”
Eden didn’t know what to do. He was so cool and in control of the situation – so out of sync with how Benson was the day before – that all Eden could do was lean back in her booth and give him her best what? face.
“I thought I recognized you standing there.” He gestured to where they had waited for their drinks. “But, no offense… lots of women in town have long brown hair and a great ass.”
“Excuse me?”
“Mmhmm. No, I definitely recognize you.” He took a generous drink from his Americano.
He looks so… normal. Black leather jacket.
T-shirt. Dark wash jeans. Without the tropical sun shining overhead, his hair was darker, but it was still Neal, the man whose battleships she had sunk before he sank into her. “Brim. That’s the name they gave you.”
“I mean.” Pull yourself together. Eden patted her cheeks to help her calm down as she squared her shoulders and crossed her legs… away from him. “Hello to you, too.”
“You don’t seem as freaked out as I would assume.”
“After the week I’ve had since getting back?
” How could she explain it? Not just one, but both men who had been all over her on the island were here!
In her city! Benson was a helluva coincidence enough.
What was she supposed to do about this guy?
How could she even look anyone from La Mariposa in the eye again?
They really advertise in like three cities in the country.
Here, New York, and LA. And New York wasn’t that far away! How small was this piss-pot, anyway!
“Wait,” Neal said, “what happened?”
“Nothing.” Certainly nothing that was any of his business.
Which was probably why he blanched backward at her saying such a thing.
“Sorry.” She cleared her throat, remembering her manners.
The odds were small that both men had tracked her down.
The genuine surprise on Benson’s face still haunted her a little.
And I’m going on a date with him tonight.
Meanwhile, this man was playing it cool, but when Eden looked closer, she noticed he nervously tapped his fingers against his Americano cup.
“You’re not… God, you’re the second person I’ve seen from the island this week. ”
“Am I, now?”
“Yes. Do you live here?”
“Unfortunately, depending on who you ask.”
She scrunched her nose. “I’m asking you.”
“Oh, well, then yes. I live here. Just moved back from LA a few months ago, actually. But don’t worry. I don’t live around here.” He gestured to the neighborhood. “I live over by the river. I’m a bit of a boat guy, I’m afraid.”
She laughed. For some reason.
“I’m Liam.”
Eden stopped laughing, wondering where that came from. When she realized that was his real name, she cocked her head and studied his face.
“What?”
“Wow,” Eden whispered. “You look like one.”
“Is that supposed to mean I look Irish or something?”
Much to her ongoing surprise, she giggled. But wasn’t that the hold this man had over her a while ago? His ability to make everything feel so… easy? So simple? So fun and probable?
“No. Sorry.”
“I’m just joking.” He held his hand out to her over the corner of the table. “Liam Ashe. Pleasure to meet you out in the real world.”
She hesitated before taking his fingers. The moment she did, she instantaneously felt more at ease from the warmth of his skin and flashed back to the things those hands could do to her. Goodness gracious. She’d fan herself if it wasn’t thirty degrees outside and her hand wasn’t otherwise occupied.
“I’m Eden.”
“Whoa.” Liam retracted his hand and folded both arms on the table. “That’s quite the name. I like it.”
“I’m not gonna lie, ‘Brim’ grew on me after a while.”
“That one suits you, too.”
“But it was short for Brimstone. That’s not pretty.”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” He fired a finger gun at her while winking. “And you, Eden, are one gorgeous gal.”
“Uh…”
He turned off the charm when he realized it wasn’t getting him anywhere. “Sorry. I have this need to diffuse all awkward situations. It usually gets me money. Not so many women.”
“It’s fine. I’m just a bit out of sorts right now. You…” She turned her whole body toward him, shaking her hands, palms upright. “You. Here.”
“Yup. Me. Here.”
She tossed her hands into the air before slumping in her seat. “This is ridiculous.”
“At least you’re not embarrassed half to death. I’d have to turn my charm up even more, and it would get really weird for both of us.”
“It’s already weird.”
“Even more weird.”
“That’s possible?”