Chapter 28
“How about if I drink this pumpkin beer, you go for a ride.” Jameson says as we stand in line to order a drink. He looks delicious, as always—switching it up today with dark wash jeans and a black T-shirt.
My eyebrows shoot up.
“On the bike,” he clarifies.
Oh. I shake my head, scrunching my nose.
“You’re the one who said you were on a mission to find that beer. Now you want me to convince you to drink it?”
“Yes.” He smirks.
“I don’t know…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take it easy on you. Nice and slow.”
My cheeks heat and I bite my lip. Did he have to say that in such a low, sensual tone?
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” he says. “You don’t have to. Obviously.”
“It’s just…I’m a mom.”
He looks at me. Really looks at me. And I couldn’t break away even if I wanted to. I don’t. It’s as if he’s trying to memorize the intricate lines of my soul through my eyes.
“That’s not all you are,” he finally says.
“I…” I’m at a loss for words. My whole adult life, that’s all I’ve felt like.
Even most of the guys I’ve dated somehow make me feel like it’s my whole identity, constantly reminding me or bringing it up.
Of course I want to be responsible for my kid.
But would it be so bad if, once in a while, I did something that made me feel alive? Something just for me?
“I know,” I finally say quietly. But I don’t know if I do.
He nods, seeming satisfied. For now.
We make it to the front and I order a pumpkin beer.
I only recently tried it, and honestly, pumpkin-flavored beer might be where I draw the line.
But the golden yellow leaves are blowing in the wind, the air is starting to chill, and I’m wearing a brown plaid scarf. I can’t not drink a pumpkin beer.
“Make that two,” Jameson says beside me as he pulls out his wallet. He beats me to it again, of course. I should really be prepared next time.
“What was all that nonsense the other night about knowing what you want and going for it?” I say smugly. “You caved so easily under my influence.”
“Oh, I know what I want.” He looks at me with a…determined expression? I can’t be sure; he’s hard to read sometimes. But that’s okay, I kind of like it.
His gaze lingers a long moment as he raises his cup, waiting for mine to make contact.
I tap it and we both take a sip. Cold, fresh, with a subtle pumpkin flavor. Okay this one isn’t bad. The other one I tasted at the restaurant was just pretty awful, I guess. Or maybe the atmosphere is tricking my senses.
“Not bad,” he admits. Then he reaches out a hand and pulls me along.
There’s a live band playing music to our left, with a surprising variety of songs already—from country to eighties love anthems and everything in between.
He leads me toward the beer garden where we take a seat at a somewhat private table toward the back, by a beautiful yellow tree. He sits across from me, looking at me with purpose.
“What?” I ask. I take another large gulp of my drink, which is already halfway gone.
“Nothing. I just haven’t seen you during the golden hour yet. You look…”
“Orange?”
“Stunning,” he corrects me, his heavy, half-lidded eyes locked on mine. “It really brings out the amber in your eyes, and those adorable freckles.”
I blush and look away.
“You know, some women are more beautiful the closer up you look, and some are more beautiful from a little farther away. Somehow, you’re both.”
“Um. Thank you.” I tilt my head as I look at him, then shake my head, grinning.
He smiles.
“So, I just have to make sure…leaving such a high-profile job is a big deal…you’re not like some disgraced CEO who’s running from the law or anything like that, are you?”
This amuses him. “No. Definitely not.”
“Okay. Good.”
“That easy, huh?”
“Yes. I too can make a decision and stick with it confidently.”
More amusement. “That’s good.”
“Plus, I looked you up. The internet seems to have nothing but good things to say about you.” I really couldn’t find anything bad.
There wasn’t a huge amount of information, but I did find a few articles about him and his company.
They donate to charities a lot. They also donate a lot of medical equipment and software to smaller-budget hospitals. Well, his former company, I suppose.
He nods, smiling as he tilts his head back. “Ahh. You can never be too sure nowadays, can you?”
“Nope. So, how long are you eligible to be on that CEOs-under-forty-list?”
This makes him huff out a laugh. “Is that your way of asking me how old I am?”
I shrug, trying to feign innocence.
He rubs at the stubble on his chin, looking off into the distance before finally returning his gaze to mine. “A couple more months?”
I nod.
“Too old?
“No.” I laugh. That thought never once crossed my mind. I knew he was only about ten years older than me. While he does seem to have a whole lifetime of wisdom and experience about him that I could never understand, it isn’t scaring me away. Just intimidating me a little bit.
He looks happy about my answer. For a moment I think he may have been worried I wouldn’t be interested anymore—because of his age? That’s crazy. Not to mention, he looks healthier than half the twenty-somethings I know.
“So…you worked with medical equipment and stuff…” I trail off.
“Yes…” There’s a twinkle in his eyes.
“It’s so strange, I recently received a whole box of expensive diabetes supplies on my doorstep. Like…a year’s worth. Fancy brand.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I have no idea where it came from. It’s so weird. Amazing. But a mystery for sure.”
“Well, who doesn’t love a good mystery.” At first, I think he has a good poker face. But as he holds my gaze, his eyes are beginning to light up like he has a juicy secret.
I tilt my head at him, and he says nothing. Maybe it wasn’t him after all. I look off into the distance. “Hmm.”
“Okay. Yes, it was me. I know you were trying to trick me into talking.”
I snap my head back toward him. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“You…you shouldn’t have. I need to give it back to you.”
“Absolutely not.” His face means business, and I wonder if I’m getting a glimpse at CEO Jameson. He’s not budging on that one.
“Okay,” I say softly. Clearing my throat, I add, “Thank you,”
“You’re welcome.”
I don’t know if I can handle much more of this weightless, high feeling I get when I’m in his presence and he holds my gaze the way he does.
But at the same time, I can’t get enough.
It’s like an addiction. When I first met him, I clearly had some insane physical response to him, but now that I’m finding out more about him, it’s becoming even harder to resist. Good thing I’m too intimidated to make the first move—and that I have to pick up Jess after this—or I’d be done for.
If a few flirty phrases and glances from him gets me dizzy and makes me forget everything around me, how intoxicating would it be if I let him take all of me?
My body is screaming at me to find out.
“So, did you actually drive the motorcycle here today?”
His lip pulls back. “Yes,” he says slowly.
“Do you drive all the way here from the city every time you visit? I guess I never really asked.”
“No, not every time. There’s an airport nearby that I fly into. It saves a lot of time. Only a thirty-minute drive after that. The Land Rover wasn’t mine.”
“What about the motorcycle?”
“Mine. It’s nice to take the long, scenic drive now and then.”
“I bet that was nice.”
“It was beautiful. Peaceful.” He smiles like he’s picturing those winding, tree-lined roads as he approaches the mountains in his mind now.
“That airport is tiny though, isn’t it? How do you find these flights practically every weekend?” I ask.
“I don’t.”
“You don’t…”
“I charter a jet.”
“Ooooh.” I try not to feel inferior again, hearing this little dollop of information. “Sure, sure. Makes sense.”
I must be making a ridiculous face because he studies me, looking like he’s contemplating something.
“I hope you’re not intimidated by any of that.
” He grabs my hand, and I’m surprised to find that it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“I’m really just a guy who wants to live a normal, quiet life.
Our gazes lock, both of us smiling, and I feel a flutter in my stomach all the way down to…between my legs.
Another slow eighties-anthem begins to play. “So, what grade were you in when you danced to this song at your school social?”
His laugh is more like a grumble as he shakes his head, keeping his mouth closed.
“I’ve never heard this song.”
“Sure.” I nod my head and squint at him.
“I like it though,” he says, placing a kiss on the hand that he’s still holding. “Do you want to get another?” He gestures toward my empty cup.
Oh. Did I already drink all of that?
“I shouldn’t. I’m picking Jess up after this.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Do you have to get her by a certain time?”
“No. I just said I would be there before bedtime. If I end up late and she gets to have a sleepover, she’ll be thrilled anyway. Grandma and Grandpa make an excellent breakfast.”
He checks his watch. Of course he wears one. It looks fancy and shiny. “So, we have a few hours? Maybe more?” he adds with a beguiling look in his eyes.
I nod.
“Well, I know you work hard momming all week, so if you want to let loose a little, I’ll take care of you.”
I blush. I have a few hours to sober up if I have another drink now, so I should be fine. Worst-case scenario, she stays at my dad’s, and I get a ride. What kind of ride? That’s yet to be determined.
“Come on. You deserve to let loose now and then,” he says, now standing in front of me, pulling me up by my hand.
I have another drink. And I’d be embarrassed by how hard it hit me, but right now I just feel too good to care. We listen and laugh at some of the music, talk about a million things, and before I know it, I’ve dragged him out to the parking lot, begging him to take me for a ride on his motorcycle.