Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“ L ook at you, Mr. Fancy Pants,” I said as I stepped up onto the front screened-in porch that wrapped around his side of the large, beautiful duplex. A comfy sofa and chairs sat on what looked like original hardwood planks. If you angled your head just right, you could see down the street directly to the ocean.
“What were you expecting?”
“Something that looked like it matched your truck,” I said.
“A dilapidated shack?”
“Sounds about right.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said as he pulled open the front door and a very round English bulldog waddled out and licked my calf.
“A dog!” I shouted.
“That’s Mr. Potato. Don’t worry, he won’t bite,” Jared said .
I bent down to scratch behind his ears. “I didn’t know you had a dog. I am learning so much about you.”
“Shhhh, don’t say that out loud. Potato doesn’t know he is a d-o-g.”
I snorted a laugh and shook my head. “Okay, I’ll do my best not to spoil the secret.”
“Thanks. Come on in.” He led the way into the living room of the duplex that looked like it had been tastefully updated with modern amenities like A/C and a new kitchen without completely gutting the original charm. It was a nice place and probably cost him more than I made in a month to rent it.
“Nice place,” I said.
“I’m in the process of looking for something more permanent,” he said. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?”
“I’ll take a coffee if you are making it,” I said.
“Sure.” He busied himself in the kitchen that was an extension of the living room, all open concept. I looked around, but I saw very little evidence of Jared in the space. All the decor was typical beach fare that the owner likely got from the Five and Dime, wooden plaques that said "The beach is my happy place" and "Sun, sea, sand", which I secretly loved but wouldn’t admit to anyone.
Potato waddled up to where I sat and lifted his front legs pathetically up on the couch as he tried desperately to get airborne without any success.
“Umm, Potato wants up on the couch,” I called.
“You can help him. ”
“Alright, buddy,” I said, unsure how to pick up a dog.
“Not much of a dog person,” Jared said as he watched my sad attempt at picking up Potato.
“I am now and forever will be a cat person,” I said. I finally decided to grab Potato around the middle and hoist him onto the couch. For such a squat little thing, he was heavy. He circled twice and then lied down beside me. I scratched his ear again. “Potato isn’t too bad though.”
Jared laughed as he came back with two cups of coffee and a plate of chocolate chips scones.
“I love chocolate chip scones with my coffee,” I said as he started spreading the tally sheets up in front of us on the coffee table. Had he somehow known that I liked chocolate chip scones? How did he seem to know so much about me and I knew almost nothing about him?
“I didn’t think you ate anything yet today. So I figured you could use something.”
I hadn’t even noticed, but he was right—again. Another check mark in the Jared is actually a thoughtful, nice guy column. That column was getting dangerously full. I gave myself a mental shake and forced myself to move on.
“Are we gonna add this all up?” I said, sliding the paper closer.
“Let’s do it,” he said.
For the next several minutes, we moved through the sales report, line by line, together, each working on our own phone calculators. I didn’t stop to compare or see who was ahead. My eyes moved along the numbers as my fingers tapped along my phone and every so often my leg brushed against Jared’s. The almost non-existent touch was enough to derail my attention and turn my thoughts toward naughty things. As soon as I opened up the door a crack to the possibility of Jared being a not so bad guy, somehow thoughts of our time in the walk-in crowded in with it. I shoved that door closed as tightly as I could manage. I had told him in no uncertain terms that nothing would happen between us, and here I was, wishing he would move his hands slightly from his phone to my knee, then maybe up just a little higher.
Jesus, Jenna, enough.
How could I be so distracted when the truth about my success or failure was minutes away. Maybe with the adrenaline of the event worn off, I was more susceptible. Maybe I didn’t want to face what the number bore out.
“Done,” Jared said.
My mouth moved into a thin line, unhappy that he clearly wasn’t as distracted by my presence as I was by his.
“Hold on,” I said.
I finished plugging numbers into my calculator and wrote the final totals. My eyes darted back and forth between his total and mine.
“Holy shit!” I grabbed his paper. Mine must have been wrong. I scanned through his notes to find his sloppily written final tally. No, they were the same.
“I won?” I whispered.
“You won.”
It wasn’t even close, either. I hadn’t just beaten Jared. I had mopped the floor with him. I stood up, my body electrified with excitement an d disbelief. I paced around the coffee table, rereading the numbers.
“I won,” I said. “I did it! I beat you!”
When I finally looked in his direction, his expression wasn’t what I had been expecting. I thought he might be sullen or pissed off, or even mildly annoyed, but he wasn’t any of those things. He looked just as thrilled as I felt.
“I can’t believe it!” I whispered.
He stood up and crossed over the coffee table with one giant step to stand right in front of me.
“I believe it.” He wrapped his arms around me, and I was momentarily lost in the feel of his firm, muscled chest, and strong arms. I melted against him as he folded around me. “Congratulations,” he whispered, his breath against my ear.
I went very still as my heart thudded thunderously against my chest. Could this be something? We weren’t really enemies anymore. I still had the rest of the week to win, but it didn’t feel like we were enemies, anyway. It felt like—I didn’t know—like he was on my side. Like he was more than just on my side. I tilted my chin up to gauge what might be going through his mind. He turned his face until his lips were so incredibly close. My eyes darted down to them, just for a fraction of a second before meeting his eyes again, but that was enough. The excitement of my win—which I still didn’t fully understand—left his face, replaced by something much more serious. Then his lips pressed against mine—warm, soft and insistent.