Chapter 13
Jason
As long as Jason didn’t bring up what had happened at that bar, Isabelle seemed to be getting better.
They were back to their usual early morning runs.
From what he could tell, she still struggled with her insomnia, though she didn’t mention it directly.
Isabelle also didn’t bring up whether or not she was still having nightmares.
After two weeks of going for runs, she’d started spending more time with him afterward. He even caught more glimpses of her rare smiles. She gave him one of them as she pulled open the fridge in the kitchen and pulled out the milk they needed for the pancake batter.
Mark groaned and rolled his eyes when Jason winked at her. He kept his voice low when he muttered, “Ask her out already.”
Jason didn’t even bother fighting the smile that spread over his face. “In time,” he huffed under his breath. “I’m not gonna scare her off.” That plan included not being overly touchy with her, which was harder than he’d realized.
For the most part, he made sure to put himself between her and most men, which was why he’d strategically stepped between her and Mark as they worked on breakfast. Apparently, Nikki hadn’t felt well this morning and Isabelle was more than happy to help.
“So Mark, were you a chef in another life, too?”
Mark practically choked on his laughter. “No ma’am.”
Isabelle glanced from him to Jason.
“Mark was more of a jack-of-all-trades. He did a bit of everything back in the city.” Jason didn’t need to mention that Mark had a hard time holding down a job until he moved out here. “But he’s found good footing out here.”
Isabelle smiled warmly at Mark. “You guys have been friends for a long time, then?”
Jason and Mark exchanged smiles. “Yeah.” Mark nodded. “Jason was my best friend in high school. He just did better at following his dreams.” He nudged Jason in the ribs with his elbow. “He’s luckier with just about everything in life except one thing.”
Isabelle continued to watch Mark, her interest and curiosity coming off her in waves. “And what’s that?”
“Women.”
She blinked.
Jason stifled a growl. Why on earth did Mark feel the need to say that? He shook his head. “Mark’s joking.”
“Nah. Jason just doesn’t want to admit that he gave his heart away to a stranger years ago.” Mark chuckled. If this was his way of pushing Jason into finally doing something about his feelings for Isabelle, he wasn’t going to win.
Jason cut his friend a warning look. He made no promises of controlling himself if Mark ended up making Isabelle uncomfortable. And Jason had the feeling that was already starting to happen.
Mark laughed and moved toward the skillet with the opened packages of bacon.
Isabelle didn’t prod. If she was curious about Mark’s statement, she didn’t let on.
Jason refused to push Isabelle into something she wasn’t ready for. What they had was tenuous at best. One wrong word and Isabelle might retreat once more. One step at a time. Day by day, he’d help her come out of her shell again.
“What about you, Isabelle?”
She stiffened at Mark’s question. Then she glanced up at him with a curious smile. “What about me?”
“Were you a chef in another life?”
Isabelle laughed. “In my dreams, maybe. Nope. I’ve never really been good at doing much in the kitchen besides following a simple recipe.”
“I guess it’s a good thing that Jason can whip stuff up out of thin air, then. You two practically complete each other.”
“Mark,” Jason warned.
His friend chuckled. The guy wasn’t getting it.
“It’s fine,” Isabelle murmured quietly at his side. Her cheeks flushed with mild color, and she offered him another smile. “I grew up with siblings, remember? I can handle some harmless teasing.”
“Well, if it gets to be too much—”
She laughed. “It won’t.”
Mark moved around the kitchen toward the fridge, and before Isabelle could react, Jason became the barrier between them.
He handed her a measuring cup to help cover up for what he was doing.
It wasn’t easy to tell whether or not she noticed that he was shielding her from Mark, but he’d continue to do so until she asked him not to.
Isabelle accepted the measuring cup, and their fingers brushed. Her eyes bounced up to meet his briefly, and that blush deepened.
That had been happening a lot more often as well. While Jason went out of his way to make sure he wasn’t too close to her, accidents still happened.
The graze of fingertips.
The brush of hands.
Bumping shoulders.
It was all innocent enough, but Jason had started to notice that it was affecting Isabelle. Or was it wishful thinking?
A quirk of her lips was all the indication that she didn’t mind.
Jason leaned in close, his lips nearly grazing her ear. “I was going to head to town today. Thought I’d hit up Sal’s for some pie. You interested?”
She didn’t lift those gorgeous eyes to meet his. She didn’t demand to know if this was supposed to be a date of some kind. Deep down, maybe he wished she would, so he could ask her if it would be so bad.
Isabelle merely nodded. “Their apple pie is to die for.”
“Can’t forget the ice cream.”
“No, you can’t.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Mark said.
Isabelle jumped and they both glanced in Mark’s direction.
Jason shook his head at Mark’s knowing look. Inviting Isabelle to get some pie didn’t mean they were going out on an official date. He was simply asking a friend to join him for a treat.
All right, in his head he knew he sounded like a liar.
But he’d never admit to it. Mark was right about one thing.
That night in the bar, he’d caught sight of Isabelle and he’d been hooked.
If she hadn’t been there with that guy, he would have asked for her number.
After everything that had happened, he wished he had stayed at the hospital.
Then fate intervened and their paths crossed here at the ranch.
This time, he wasn’t going to squander the chance to win her over. He just needed to be patient.
Jason couldn’t stop staring at Isabelle as she took another bite of her pie. She laughed and looked away when she caught him. “What?”
He shrugged. “You seem… good.”
She rolled her eyes, but he didn’t miss the way her shoulders tensed. She still didn’t like it when he brought up the way she was feeling.
Clearing his throat, Jason turned his attention to his own plate. “I know you said you don’t do well with cooking, but if you wanted to learn…”
Isabelle laughed. “I don’t think you would be saying that if you knew how bad it is.”
“So, tell me.”
“Hmm?” She met his gaze.
“Tell me how bad it is,” he said with a chuckle.
Isabelle shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly.”
“Why not?”
This time, she leveled him with a serious look. “Because you’re a professional. Admitting to burning water isn’t in my best interest.”
He quirked a brow. “Burning water?”
She bit back a smile and ducked her head as she stabbed her fork into her pastry. “Technically, it wasn’t the water that burned. It was the pan. But you get the gist.”
He chuckled. “You sound like my sister.”
That caught her attention, and she looked up at him. “Your sister’s a bad cook?”
“The worst.” He groaned. “One time we were making our parents breakfast in bed and…” He blew out a breath, then laughed.
“Let’s just say that not even I could salvage the massacre she left behind in her wake.
Mathew had to run to the diner down the street from where we lived to get them something, and my folks could totally tell. ”
Isabelle grinned, and it was like the sun shining through the clouds. “To be fair, having a child who was a chef means one should get the best food the world has to offer.”
“Careful, Isabelle, you might give me an inflated ego,” he said, feeling his face warming up in a blush.
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
He lifted a brow, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Because it’s pretty big as it is,” she added.
Jason’s jaw fell. Then he chuckled and shook his head. This was the first time Isabelle had poked fun at him like this. She was teasing him, being playful. If that wasn’t a good sign, he didn’t know what was.
Isabelle chanced a couple more glances his way, her smile growing, and all he could do was shake his head and laugh to himself. But then she put her fork down and started squirming in her seat.
He watched her for a few moments, then put his fork down as well. “Something the matter?”
She cleared her throat and stared at her plate.
Then she twisted her fork around and around.
“I was wondering something.” Her voice was quiet, and he didn’t know what to say.
Isabelle was finally opening up to him. She could be wondering about anything.
Her eyes flicked up to meet his. “You know what you said about finding something meaningful? When you asked about what I wanted to be when I grew up?”
His lips twitched and he nodded.
“Well, my work with the dogs is important. I love it, I do. But…” She sighed. “I can’t help but think that something is missing.”
This was good, right? Isabelle was finally taking a hard look at her life and what she wanted.
She was seeking out something that would make her happy.
If she could see for herself that she wanted more, that was one step closer to accepting that she might need help in other facets of her life.
He settled back in his seat, waiting for her to continue.
He didn’t dare guide this conversation in a direction she wasn’t ready for.
This was all part of the healing process.
She was going to fix what was broken, and when she did, then he’d be there to celebrate it.
Isabelle forced a shy smile. “Do you think that you could help me?”
Why was it that this woman of all creatures could make the organ in his chest react like this? It expanded. It beat erratically. It practically demanded that he take note. He wanted nothing more than to be right at her side while she made these changes in her life.
Jason smiled. “Maybe we could try to figure out what you need together.” It was too soon to bring up therapy again.
He knew that. But he could make suggestions about possible career choices.
Maybe she’d soften to the idea of playing the piano for him.
If Isabelle could get out of her comfort zone, he knew he’d be able to push her in the right direction.
Her smile melted the last bit of resolve he had in keeping his distance. “Thank you, Jason. I really appreciate it.”
Jason nodded toward her plate. “Eat up. After you’re done, we can brainstorm.”