Read Dreams of Us Online

Authors: Brooke St. James

Dreams of Us (9 page)

 

Chapter 9

 

 

"Oh my goodness, he's coming here
right now
. He said give him twenty minutes. What am I gonna do?"

Lexie laughed at me. "You're gonna wait twenty minutes for your man to get here, then I'm gonna say all sorts of good stuff about you when he does."

That made me giggle. "You called him my man just now."

"The way you tell it, that's exactly what he is."

"I hope I'm telling it right," I said.

"I'm sure you are."

Her coffee shop crush walked in the front door at that moment, and our conversation focused on him. We thought he would clock in and go behind the counter, but instead, he ordered a drink and had a conversation with the people who were working before sitting at a table by himself and opening his laptop.

"It's really cool that he likes his job enough to go there on his day off," Lexie said.

"I wouldn't peg him as the type who would work here, much less hang out here in his off time."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because he looks so normal compared to the rest of them. You know, clean cut and everything."

I could tell by Lexie's expression that she hadn't even thought of that. It was as if she didn't notice that everyone else who worked there looked like they owned stock in a tattoo shop.

She and I planned several attempts at making conversation with the handsome barista, but didn't follow through with any of them. It's difficult to interrupt someone when they're staring intently at a laptop. We were giggling about cheesy pick up lines that would never work when she all of a sudden grew serious and said, "There's your man."

My heart began beating rapidly. It was pounding like jackhammer before I even turned to lay eyes on him.

"Oh my gosh, he is smokin' hot," she said, staring at him with a stunned expression. "I can't believe I forgot how hot he was."

"Quit talking like that. You're making me nervous. Where is he? Did he come in?"

"He's walking in right now. You need to turn around. He's looking for you."

I turned, and Lexie continued talking even as I did.

"He's gorgeous," she said at my back. "I can't believe you kissed him on the lips." I knew she thought she was being funny, but I was already nervous enough as it was. I turned to face her with a
you better be quiet
expression that only served to make her giggle.

By the time I turned around again, Jordan had caught sight of us and was headed in our direction. He was looking straight at me with a smile as he approached.

"Seriously, he's amazing," she mumbled.

He was wearing athletic clothes—nice, fitted sweatpants, with a zippered hoodie layered over a t-shirt. He looked like a Nike ad. He ran a hand through his dark hair, which made him look even more like a commercial. I could not refrain from standing up to give him a hug as he approached. I started to give him a non-committal, sideways hug, but he squeezed me tightly and kissed me on the head. I felt extremely relieved to have him in my arms, and the funny thing was, I could tell it was the same for him. I could feel it in the way he breathed. I pulled back just enough to stare at him, and we smiled at each other.

"I'm glad you're here," I said.

"Probably not as glad as I am."

"Believe me, she's pretty dang glad," Lexie said.

His smile broadened as his attention focused on her. "Rebecca, Lexie, or a name that starts with a vowel. Emma?" he asked without taking his arm from around me.

"You're good!" she said. "I'm Lexie, and Emily's the name you were searching for. But, more importantly, do you remember the teddy bear's name?"

He smiled. "How could I forget Alan?"

She laughed. "What a memory!"

He smiled. "Good to see you again," he said, shaking her hand.

We were sitting at a table for two against the windows, and Jordan pulled a nearby chair over so he could join us.

"Sorry to interrupt you guys," Lexie's laptop man said, approaching our table, "but I just wanted to come say 'hey'." He looked at Jordan. "I'm glad I was here when you came by. Whatever you're having is on the house."

Jordan was right in the middle of sitting down when the guy approached, but he stood again to shake his hand.

"Reid Marshall, it's great to see you!" Jordan said.

I glanced at Lexie whose face had crumpled into a hilarious expression for a split second while they weren't looking.

"I'm glad you came in!" Reid said.

"Is this your place?" Jordan asked, looking around as if he was impressed.

"Yep. This is it."

"It's nice. I didn't know what to expect when Bailey told me to meet her at The Big Heavy."

Reid laughed, and he looked so handsome when he did, that I kicked Lexie under the table. She let out a tiny little squeal, but smiled and acted normal when everyone glanced at her.

"Reid this is Bailey and Lexie," Jordan said, gesturing to us. Reid reached out to shake both of our hands.

"I come, we come, we try to come in here every time I'm at Bailey's," Lexie said, obviously flustered. "She lives like two blocks away. We love this place. Did you just say it's yours?"

Reid smiled at her. "As much as it can be, I guess. I opened it, and I basically live here, but somehow I feel like she owns me and not the other way around."

Lexie laughed. She was devastated by his charm.

"I think I've seen you two in here," he said.

"Bailey lives two blocks away," she repeated.

"How do you guys know each other?" I asked, gesturing from Jordan to Reid.

"He put my leg back together a couple of years ago," Reid said.

"How's it doing?" Jordan asked.

"It's good. It's better when I remember to do my exercises, but you know how that goes."

Jordan looked at me. "Reid rides a motorcycle. Unfortunately, I have quite a few patients who do."

"I don't ride as much lately." He smiled. "A brush with death will do that to you."

Jordan laughed and held up his hands. "Hey, I don't judge. I just do my best to fix what's in front of me."

"You did a good job. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Tell them I said it was on the house." Reid glanced at Lexie and me. "I wish I would've known these ladies were with you, I would've taken care of theirs as well."

"You can buy me coffee next time," Lexie said.

He smiled at her. "I'll have to do that." He shook Jordan's hand again before leaving our table.

"So he rides a motorcycle and owns a coffee shop," Lexie said as Jordan sat down.

"Do you want something to drink?" I asked Jordan before addressing Lexie's statement.

"I think I will, actually," he said. "Do either of you want anything?"

Lexie and I shook our heads, and Jordan stood up, yet again.

"Reid's following him to the counter," Lexie whispered. I glanced over there, and could tell Reid was making sure everything was on the house for Jordan.

"Can you believe he
owns
this place?" Lexie asked.

"No. I thought he was a barista."

"I think I'm in love," she said.

I sighed. "Welcome to the club."

"Yeah, but yours totally loves you back," she said.

"You think?"

"I know."

"How?"

"It's obvious."

"What if I end up with him?" I asked.

She giggled. "That's pretty much the only outcome I see happening at this point."

Moments later, Jordan walked toward us with a coffee cup in his hand. He rubbed his eyebrows as he sat down.

"I needed this," he said.

"Long day?"

He took a drink before glancing at me with a tired smile. "I was on call last night. I got called in at 2AM, and I just left the hospital an hour ago."

I felt the urge to hug him. I wanted to touch him—to comfort him after such a long night.

"I have the next two days off, though."

I couldn't stand it any longer. I reached out and put my hand on his forearm. He put his hand over my hand, holding it in place. A rush of excitement hit me as he covered my hand with his. I looked down at it. His hands were surprisingly masculine for a surgeon. I'd never really inspected them before, and now that I was looking at them I could appreciate their ruggedness.

"How'd you get tough hands?" I asked.

"My calluses?" he asked, picking up his own hand to look at it.

"Rock climbing."

"You're a rock climber?" I asked.

"Don't tell Dr. Ross," he said, smiling. "He gets onto me about it all the time."

"I've always wanted to try that," Lexie said.

He looked at her with a smile. "You'd love it," he said. "We've got a few great climbing gyms here. You should try it."

He faced me. "I was tempted to invite you to come with me when we were talking about exercise in the hospital, but I didn't want to overstep my bounds."

"I'd love to try it," I said. "As long as you think my hand could hold up."

He nodded confidently. "Don't get mad at me when you get hooked, though."

We sat there for about an hour, talking about hobbies, food, music, and just about anything else you could think of. Jordan was smart, funny, and maybe sort of a little easy on the eyes. I couldn’t stop staring at him. I caught myself spacing out on his gorgeous curved lips. I could clearly remember what they felt like on mine, and it made me feel a warm fuzzy sensation.

Eventually, Lexie said she needed to be going, so we walked her to her car, which was parked nearby. Jordan grabbed my hand the second we started walking
. How was it that his touch had the ability to drive me this crazy?
All we were doing was holding hands, and it was difficult for me to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

The sun was setting, and I glanced at him as we walked. I loved everything about him. I loved the shape of his body. I loved his posture and his athletic stride. I barely even remembered the walk to Lexie's car. We left the coffee shop, he held my hand, I stared at him, and boom, we were there.

I gave Lexie a hug and told her I was glad laptop guy turned out to be even more of a catch than we expected. She laughed and vowed to land a date one day. Jordan offered to assist, but she said she wanted to do it fair and square. And just like that, he and I were alone.

"I dreamed about you, Bailey Black," was the first thing he said to me after she drove away. We were standing on the sidewalk, and he turned to me when he said it. His thumb brushed the back of my hand, sending chills up my spine. My eyes roamed over his face, and I caught myself feeling like I wanted to reach out and touch his face. When I didn't say anything right away, he continued. "I'm not just saying that to be romantic. I literally have dreams about you. Since the day I met you, I dream about you on a regular basis. I've always been a vivid dreamer, and sometimes they reoccur, but nothing like this. Even when I tried to forget about you, I still kept right on having those dreams. You're my dream woman, and I mean that in the most literal way possible."

He took my hand and brought it up to his lips. He pressed his lips to my knuckles, causing my heart to skip a beat.

"I don’t know if it's the dreams or what it is, but I feel like I know you already." His eyes met mine. "You have no idea what a relief it was to see you last night."

"I think I might," I said. "I can't say I've been having reoccurring dreams, but there's something different about you. I tried to forget about you too, but…" I trailed off, feeling too embarrassed to finish.

"I'm sorry I didn't take you home last night," he said. "I really regretted leaving you there—especially with that other guy."

"He's harmless," I said. "And you're here now."

 

Chapter 10

 

 

Jordan came to my apartment after Lexie headed home. We chose a movie on Netflix, but we talked so much that it was more like background noise. My apartment was small, and it seemed even tinier with him in it. I had a full size couch on one wall of the living room facing a fireplace with a flat-screen television mounted above the mantel. There was a leather chair nearby, but we both sat on the couch. We weren't even touching, and I still got a thrill at the sheer possibility that we might at some point. I remembered him sitting on the foot of my hospital bed, talking and smiling the same way we were doing now. I would have never imagined that one day he'd be sitting on my couch, but there he was.

We talked about playing college sports. He knew quite a bit about baseball but asked about the differences between it and softball. He played soccer while he was getting his undergraduate degree. I knew nothing at all about soccer, so he schooled me on the rules of the game. We also talked about rock climbing, and I promised I would go with him sometime. We swapped stories about everything we could think of from our childhoods, to movies, music, books and art, comparing taste and laughing about our differences.

I asked him about God, and was somehow not surprised to find out that he was a Christian. I told him about my experience with the preacher named John Malone—that I was in a place where I couldn't understand how someone like me could have a second chance at a normal life, but he had put it in perspective for me.

After we talked about God, our conversation shifted. We started talking about food and the fact that we both had a love for sushi and seafood in general. It was during this part of our conversation that we realized we were starving. It was almost 8PM, and we had forgotten to eat dinner.

Neither of us was dressed for anything fancy, so we walked to a diner down the street. Jordan held my hand as we walked like it was the most natural thing in the world. I caught myself wanting to show him off. I made eye contact with people on the street as we walked, hoping they were noticing us holding hands.

The diner wasn't called Mel's, it was called Miller's, but it looked like it should be called Mel's. It was a 50's style diner complete with checkerboard floors and lots of chrome. We sat across from each other in an old school booth, and a lady wearing a waitresses dress and an apron came up to take our order.

"I'll have the chicken fried steak with potatoes and greens, and a vanilla milkshake," he said, handing her the menu.

"I'll have the same," I said.

He smiled and raised his eyebrows at me and I shrugged innocently.

"What? I'm hungry."

"I wasn't smiling at that, really."

"What were you smiling at?"

"I like the sound of you saying you'll have the same, that's all."

"I like what you ordered. It sounded good."

"It sounded good hearing you say you'd have the same. It's sort of like you wearing one of my T-shirts."

I giggled at that. "That's not the same at all."

"Sure it is. Maybe it's not quite as good as seeing you in one of my T-shirts, but it still pretty good." His smile was breathtaking. I wanted to crawl under the table so I could sit on his side of the booth and snuggle up to him.

"Jordan Crawford, my man!" a guy said. He spoke with familiarity in his tone, and I looked up to see him smiling down at us from the edge of our booth. Without asking, he squeezed into the seat next to Jordan, giving him no other choice but to scoot over. "Who's the pretty lady?" the guy said, extending his hand for me to shake.

"Bailey," I said.

The guy was roughly Jordan's age, but he was at least fifty pounds heavier and wore a big, burly beard. I could tell he was a character just by the way he smiled at me. He shifted his face around as if he was scratching his nose without using his hands.

"Are you his girlfriend, or what?"

"No," I said, even though I wanted to say yes.

"Yes you are," Jordan said.

"Ohhhh," the guy said, laughing with his fist over his mouth.

"J.C.'s in love and she doesn't love him back."

Jordan smiled and shook his head at the guy who was obviously being silly.

"I'm Hank," he said, looking at me. "Me and J.C. go way back to his crazy days."

"High school," Jordan clarified.

"Back then, he got
all
the ladies." He elbowed Jordan. "Looks like you lost a thing or two over the years."

"Oh, I think you misunderstood," I said, feeling the need to take up for Jordan. "I'm crazy about him. I just said I wasn't his girlfriend because we really haven't discussed that."

"Awww, daaang, son!" Hank said, leaning over dramatically. "You got a hot little mamacita sitting here saying she's crazy about you and you haven't sealed that deal?"

Jordan smiled confidently. "She's my girlfriend, Hank. We got it under control."

"Is this the first she knows about it?"

Jordan glanced at me. "I guess it is," he said. "Pretty romantic that we're sitting at a diner with you egging us on."

"It's a good thing I came over here," Hank said. "She'd probably go the rest of her life wondering whether or not you liked her."

"I promise you she would not do that."

"You gonna marry her?"

"Probably."

"Am I invited to the wedding? It's the least you could do after I helped things along tonight."

"I would've been fine on my own, but I'll think about inviting you just to keep my mom on her toes."

Hank laughed. "How is Kathy?"

"She's doing well."

"Hank are you torturing these poor people?" a woman asked, coming to stand near our table with a baby on her hip.

"How's it going April?" Jordan asked.

She sighed and hoisted the baby a little higher on her hip. "I'm good. We're good. Just trying to keep this one out of trouble." She pointed at Hank so we wouldn't think she meant the baby.

Hank gestured for his wife to sit next to me. "Have a seat, babe," he said.

I instinctually slid over.

"Hank, let these people have dinner."

"They don't mind," he insisted.

"We don't mind," Jordan said.

"We were on our way out, so we won't stay long," she explained, squeezing herself and the baby into the seat next to me. "I'm April, Hank's better half."

"Bailey," I said.

"Jordan's girlfriend," Hank added with a wink.

Neither of us corrected him.

I smiled at April and the baby. He was a cutie. I was terrible at guessing kids' ages, but he looked to be about one. "What's his name?" I asked.

"Henry Joseph after his dad."

"He must be, what, the fourth or fifth?" Jordan asked.

"I'm the third; he's the fourth," Hank said. "Huh, boy, four generations of strapping Frasier men."

"The kind of strapping man who starts crying when he gets caught egging Mrs. Harris' house?"

"I didn't cry," Hank said, defensively. He laughed. "Okay, maybe I cried a little. But her husband was really scary, and he got out his shotgun."

"You didn't tell me about that," April said, smiling at Hank.

"Men don't tell stories that end with them crying, honey. In fact, we try our best to forget them. Thanks for that, Jay."

Jordan smiled. "No problem."

"Hey, we're going out on the boat next weekend if you two want to come along. We have a babysitter."

Jordan looked at me and I gave him a tiny little shrug the way couples do to let him know I was up for it. "I have to work Saturday," Jordan said.

Just then, the waitress came to our table with the food. She sat the plates and milkshakes in front of Jordan and me before looking at Hank. "I assume you don't need a menu since you've already eaten," she said with a smile.

"I'm just here saying 'hey' to my boy who I haven't seen in years."

"Just making sure," she said. "Anything else I can get you two?" Jordan and I both shook our heads, and she walked away.

"April and I will be on the boat all weekend. We'll dock at the marina Sunday and pick you up if you wanna come out for a little while."

Jordan looked at me again, and I smiled and nodded.

"Great," Hank said slapping the table. "Just like old times." He got to his feet with a groan indicating how full he was.

"Maybe not
just
like old times," Jordan said.

"Lord, let's hope not," April said, scooting out of the booth with baby Henry.

"Nice seeing you April," Jordan said.

"You too." She smiled at me once she got to her feet. "Nice meeting you, Bailey. I guess we'll see you Sunday."

"Where are we supposed to meet you?" Jordan asked.

Hank reached out to take the baby from April. "Just call the store sometime this week. They'll give you my cell, and we'll hook it up."

And just like that, Hank, April, and Hank the fourth were gone, and Jordan and I were left at the table staring at each other with matching expressions.

"Sorry about that," he said.

"About what?"

"Him. That. Him putting you on the spot like that. He's a spoiled rich kid who never grew up. He's used to saying whatever's on his mind."

"I think you just called me your girlfriend," I said, biting my lip shyly as I cut into my chicken fried steak.

"Yeah, I probably should have run that past you first."

I glanced up at him. His golden eyes made my heart skip a beat. "You were in a bind," I said nonchalantly. "Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do."

"So it's official, then," he said as more of a statement than a question.

I set down my fork and narrowed my eyes playfully at him. "Are you asking me to go steady with you, Dr. Crawford?"

He smiled. "I've already married you in my dreams, so going steady, as you say, seems a little too noncommittal, but yeah, I guess so, if that's what you want to call it."

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