Beyond Control (13 page)

“More than fine after a ride on her,” I said. “She’s so responsive and a lot of fun to ride.”

He started laughing and shook his head. “I still don’t take you for a biker.”

“Well, you don’t know me,” I shot back, locking my lips around the straw. His gaze tumbled to my mouth as I took a sip, and I pushed away the gratifying feeling that swelled up inside of me. Releasing the straw, I licked my lips gently and smiled. Two could play this game.

“I’d like to get to know you,” he offered.

I glanced at the counter and noticed Kayla wiping the counter in endless circles as she attempted to listen to our conversation. I held back a chuckle and turned my attention back to Jason who was still waiting a response.

“So just how many women do you like to get to know over coffee?” I teased, taking another sip.

“Not many,” he said, his voice hinted a note of caution. “What about you?”

“A fair amount,” I replied, keeping my face completely deadpan.

Disbelief, followed by wonderment, filled his expression. “Is that so?”

“Loads, actually.”

“Good to know,” he said, leaning back in the chair. A flicker in his eyes reminded me of something pleasantly familiar as I flipped it back to him.

“Do you—”

“I’ll start with the questions,” I interrupted him, hoping to avert any issues.

“Go for it,” he said, completely enthralled with what I wasn’t sure.

I was suddenly speechless and had to reach into the depths of lameness to start my rapid-fire line of questioning.

“How old are you?” I began.

“Twenty-seven,” he answered.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Gold,” he responded.

“Snow or sun?” I asked.

“Snow.”

“Where do you live?”

“Depends on the day,” he responded, throwing me for a loop.

“What do you mean?”

“Pretty much that,” he replied, running his fingers along the scruff on his jawline.

“Are you homeless?” I scrunched my nose up.

He started laughing and tapped his knee, before shaking his head.

“Far from it,” he responded at long last, the familiar smirk appearing.

“Well you can’t just say something that intriguing and not elaborate,” I scolded him.

“That’s fascinating?” he arched his brow. “I gotta get you out into the world more.”

“Your favorite,” Kayla said, appearing with complimentary pastries. She set a plate down for the both of us, and I eyed the one closest to me with suspicion. I tore off a piece, hoping she didn’t sprinkle it with rat poison.

“Thanks, Kayla,” Jason said, giving her a slight nod but turning his attention immediately back to me.

“Yeah. Thanks. That was totally sweet of you,” I told her.

“I have a place in the city and a house here on the island,” he continued, grabbing a tidbit off the Danish.

Two places and he was a bike builder? I mean I knew it could be somewhat lucrative after a clientele had been established, but he was pretty young for that.

“You look confused,” he told me.

I shrugged. There was no delicate way to present my observations.

“Ever been married?” I asked.

His eyes darkened a shade and he shook his head, dropping his gaze to the floor. Not quite the reaction I expected.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” I apologized.

“You didn’t.” He reached over and grabbed my hand, his eyes locking on mine. My pulse raced as the heat of his body mixed with the electricity that ran between us. “My turn.” He smiled and let go of my hand.

“I’d ask if you’re homeless, but I already know the answer to that one. I know how old you are because of your brother. I know your favorite color. So I guess that leaves me with snow or sun?”

“Snow, of course,” I replied, feeling the earlier tension diminish.

“Okay. I’ve gotta be honest. I’ve never been to one of those speed dating things, but I’m pretty sure they’re easier than this,” he teased and a sting touched my cheeks. He was right. What was this? I never ran a date through a tsunami of questions before.

“I know kind of lame, huh?” I laughed and adjusted in the seat. The sun was streaming in through the windows, beckoning for a ride.

“Not lame, just different.”

“What do you have planned today, after this?” I asked.

“I kept it open in case you were up for a longer ride around the island.” His eyes lit up like they did last night at the mention of riding together. “I’d let you take the lead, of course. I get the feeling that’s how you like it.” Another shot of familiarity and longing swept through me as I watched him analyze me. It made no sense.

“I’d like that,” I responded, stirring my iced drink.

“You want to ask me something?” he asked, his voice gentle as he eyed me.

“I’m surprised my brother’s okay with his best friend…” my voice trailed off.

“Yeah. I don’t think he really understands the spell you’ve cast over me.” He looked out the window toward the perennial garden, and I sensed there was more.

“Not that it would really matter what he thinks,” I offered. “It’s not like he’s been around the past decade to hit up for dating advice. I have no plans of starting now.”

“Something tells me even if he had been in your life, you wouldn’t hit him or anyone up for advice.” His grin bounced off his lips as I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You might be right about that,” I acknowledged. “So how long have you guys known each other?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. The sun shifted through the window and cascaded along his face, bringing out the golden flecks of his eyes. It was such an unusual color.

He took a sip of his iced-coffee and slid it back on the table.

“About ten years,” he replied.

I shook my head as his words sank in. Ten years. He had known my brother about as long as he’d been absent. The room felt as if the air had been sucked right out of it. I expected that they’d been friends for several years, but not the entire time…

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded, tracing the grain of the wood along the table. Did it really matter?

“I don’t want it to end the way it did last night,” he replied.

“It won’t,” I vowed. “And I apologize for that yesterday. It actually made me realize that I needed to deal with the realities surrounding my brother. Whatever they might be. I think I’ve been carrying around a lot more hostility about that than I knew. You were just the lucky guy who got to see it.”

“It wasn’t that bad. Kind of cute, really.” His eyes sparkled with an intensity that could never get old.

“You said you were best friends?”

“He’s like a brother to me,” he replied, sensing my unease.

“Well, at least one of us has had that experience,” I muttered, looking away. “Sorry. I’m trying not to be snarky, but it sneaks up on me.”

“I won’t try to pretend to understand the loss you felt or still feel, but I can tell you that there’s more to the story with your brother. His intentions weren’t to hurt you. They were to protect you.”

“So he talked about me?” I asked.

“Off and on, but some of the situations we were in didn’t warrant deep discussions about family.”

I cocked my head and watched Jason contemplate what next to tell me…how far to go.

“How did you meet him?” I questioned.

“He was assigned to the First Marine Division in Camp Pendleton along with me.”

“My brother was in the marines?” I sucked in a deep breath. That’s where he went?

Jason nodded.

“Wow,” I uttered. “There were a lot of scenarios that I imagined over the last ten years, but that wasn’t one of them.”

“That’s only the beginning.”

“So when did you start building bikes?” I asked, shifting the conversation away from my brother. I think at this point little tidbits about my brother were all I could handle.

“A few things happened in my life that made me reconsider what was important and what wasn’t.” His eyes darkened, and he shrugged as if answering to himself more than me.

“I can understand that,” I whispered, touching my chest. “But sometimes that’s almost harder than doing the ‘right thing’.”

“How so?” His eyes focused on me as he drew in a deep breath through his mouth. I found myself gazing at his lips far too long and blushed at the same time his lips showed signs of victory.

“Taking chances, following dreams, it all seems a lot more difficult than taking an office job or something. Not that an office job isn’t some people’s idea of a dream. I mean Brandy is preparing for law school. That’s been her dream since she was a little girl...” my voice trailed off.

“What’s your dream?” he asked. “Is it working for your father?”

I stared at him in disbelief. Not because of the question, but because he genuinely wanted an answer. It had always been assumed that I would work for my dad. There were no discussions surrounding dreams or hopes. Things were just as they were. After all, I was lucky to be handed such an opportunity. That line of thinking had been pounded into me continuously.

“It’s complicated.”

“It always is,” he replied, not taking that as a valid response.

“You’re in it,” I said, feeling the color run up my cheeks.

“In it?” he asked, puzzlement filling his eyes.

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to own a little espresso bar that served homemade pastries and cookies. I love to bake and…”

“So why don’t you?” he asked, surveying me for a reaction.

“We live in the land of Starbucks. It’s not a very practical dream. Most places that open up shut down within the first two years. With things like Yelp, it only takes a couple negative reviews.”

“Interesting.”

“What?” I asked.

“You’ve sputtered off a list of reasons why you can’t do it. I want to hear why you could.” His gaze was so intense, so curious that it took everything I had not to squirm off my chair. Never once had I dated a guy who was this forward thinking and engaged in anything I had to say, especially something that didn’t have to do with them.

“I love to bake. I’ve taken several pastry courses. I used to sell out of things I baked while I was in college. There’s nothing better than watching someone enjoy something you’ve created. I’d love to live in a small community and get to know everyone. I love people. Although, you haven’t seen that side of me,” I teased. “And working in a position that required more movement than sitting in an office would be healthier for me all around,” I stopped myself.

“So from what I hear you telling me, the one reason keeping you from pursuing your dream is the risk of failure?” he asked, his gaze boring into me.

I nodded, unable to speak. It felt so natural to open up to him. I was telling Jason things that sounded beyond fantastical and impractical, and yet, he was completely receptive and encouraging.

“Look… passion, love, and excitement radiates from you when you talk about baking.” He reached across the table and touched my hand. “Some people don’t have a passion and that’s completely fine. But when you do have a little fire within you, it’s borderline criminal to ignore it.” He removed his hand, finishing his drink. There was something mischievous hiding behind his eyes.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, grinning. “Tell me why you enjoy working where you do.”

“That’s a stumper,” I confessed. I took a few moments to think about it. I wasn’t a numbers person, yet my job was filled with them. I enjoyed eating cheese, but I certainly wouldn’t call it a passion. I looked around the coffee shop, which had mostly cleared out as I tried to come up with something that would seal the deal explaining why I was in love with the corporate world. Kayla had gone outside to water the geraniums and propped the door open, which let in a nice breeze. I felt a call to go help her out, but I stayed put.

I pressed my lips together before beginning my onslaught of bogus reasons. “The perks are great… like box seats at all the sporting events and concerts, nice dinners and functions to attend. I get to meet a lot of interesting people. Well, maybe not interesting…but I get to meet a lot of people.” I laughed.

“What about the job? Do you like the job?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Does anyone like their job?” I asked.

“Yeah. Some people do and my advice is to become one of those people before it’s too late.”

“I’m not completely sold on the idea of growing up,” I admitted out of the blue.

A subtle grin lined his lips as he drank me in.

“I think it’s overrated, myself,” he mused. “But it’s amazing how life puts us in situations to make sure we do, isn’t it?”

I didn’t see his eyes leave mine, but I wondered if he knew—if my brother knew and told him. My scar had done a marvelous job of healing in the last few years, but for some reason the skin felt tight, and I reached up to press on it through my shirt.

“Very true,” I agreed, polishing off my last sip. “Ready for that ride?”

It was official. I had become one of those people. Monday had come too quickly, and I was already looking forward to Thursday night so that I could daydream about Friday being the last day of the week.

Because our division was doing so well, my father revised the quarterly projections, realigning each division. Rather than congratulate my team on a job well done, he shot up our forecast, looking for results that seemed implausible. Apparently he wanted our team to pick up the slack of the struggling divisions, in addition to our own gains. And our bonuses depended on it.
Ridiculous!
I was certain if anyone had worried about my team getting preferential treatment, this move certainly relieved those fears.