Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2) Page 21

  He nodded as though there’d been a right and wrong answer and I’d pleased him by responding correctly. “Good. Very good.”

  The intensity of his stare and the way his smile spread with satisfaction made me want to take my answer back. But I couldn’t. So, I played my part of the dutiful daughter and entertained the esteemed guest, counting down with each forkful to the time when I could leave.

  I was dismissed after the plates were cleared, leaving my parents and Mr. Couronne to talk business without me.

  Considering many of his questions were directed at me throughout the meal, I was surprised he made no comment when my mother thanked me for coming down and asked me to check on some housekeeping things that were of no urgency.

  Then again, he’d been probing with his questions but equally as elusive when it came to answering my own.

  Still reeling from Ace’s supposition earlier, I’d found the courage to interject a question or two to try and gain more information about the man who was suddenly going to become a part of Rock Beach’s future.

  I didn’t want to think he looked like a man who could be involved with a cartel, though, truthfully, I had no idea what those kinds of men looked like. So, I searched for something in his demeanor and in his answers that could tell me if there was something he was holding back in spite of the angry glares my mother shot me from across the table each time I asked something she felt I had no business knowing.

  I ignored her because I was not only trying to protect them, I was trying to exonerate them. And even if Mr. Couronne—or some other guest was involved with the cartel, it still didn’t mean my parents were knowingly—or willingly—a part of the plan.

  Finally making it up to the floor that held my room, I let my shoulders sag with a long exhale now that I was finally out of the spotlight.

  I turned the corner and stopped short.

  Mick.

  The other end of the hallway was blocked by my gorgeous Goliath. He was in his work jeans and boots, a different Madison Construction tee pulled tight over his chest, and paint smudged down his forearms.

  He, too, stopped and stared, heat blazing in his eyes. He quickly looked me over like he was unsure he was really seeing me, here, at my home, in the hall to my bedroom.

  “Jules.” His head ducked for a moment, coming back up with a slight tint of embarrassment to his cheeks.

  Clearing his throat, he began again, “I’m sorry. Didn’t expect to see you. I just… we had to come fix somethin’ over in the clubhouse, and you left the other night without tryin’ any of your cookies.”

  He walked slowly toward me, extending a hand holding the small box of baked goods. “Mrs. Potts said I could leave ‘em up here for you.”

  I’d have to thank my own fairy god-housekeeper later.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly, but made no move closer. Everything I wanted to say now jumbled like alphabet soup in my brain.

  His mouth tightened into a half-smile as he set the box down on the small table that sat next to the door to my room.

  “I won’t keep you,” he drawled.

  “Mick—” I called his name as he turned to leave, rushing to him. “Wait. Please.”

  Hope bloomed over his features just as quickly as regret followed.

  “Jules, I’m so sorry. I don’t expect you to believe me, considerin’ I haven’t been tellin’ you the whole truth this time, but I—”

  He broke off as I reached up and put my hand on his arm to stay him.

  “You shouldn’t…” He reached for my wrist. “I’m dirty and sweaty. We’ve been workin’ all morning.”

  My heart seized.

  Mick Madison was a good man. He was more than a good man… he was the best of men. Protective and self-sacrificing, he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted from life and most importantly, he was happy with that. He was content.

  To Mick, I was the sun and he was the moon, both able to occupy the same sky but never together at the same time.

  What I found myself determined to show him was while that may be true, there are once-in-a-lifetime moments that can eclipse what might seem normal for nature, moments when the sun and the moon not only live in the sky together but share the same path of light.

  “I talked to Ace and Laurel,” I said quietly, lifting my eyes to his. Judging by his reaction, working all morning meant he hadn’t heard from either of them. “I understand why you did what you did.”

  I felt the tension evaporate from the muscles that strained underneath my fingers.

  “Darlin’—”

  “I don’t agree,” I continued firmly, needing to make both of my thoughts clear. “I don’t believe my parents had anything to do with this. But I do forgive you for not telling me… for trying to keep me safe.”

  “It wasn’t right,” he insisted with a low growl. “It wasn’t right for me to keep that knowledge from you, Jules.”

  “Maybe not.” I sighed. “But my pap always used to say that you can’t judge a man based on the outcome of his choice, only by the heart with which he made it.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat, my body tingling instinctively to get closer to him. “And I know your heart was in the right place.”

  His dimple appeared on his right cheek, like the North Star, I knew it was leading us back to each other. “I’d do anything to keep you safe.” He let out a hoarse chuckle. “I’d do anything for you…”

  I sucked in a small breath, my pulse hammering in my throat. Dragging my tongue over my lips, I swayed even closer to his warmth.

  “Well, I’d like to kiss the man who saved my life. Do you think you can help me with that?” I purred with a low voice.

  I was sure it wasn’t exactly the right time for that sort of request, but it was always the right time to say how I felt.

  “Darlin’,” he groaned, “I’m all sweaty and dirty…”

  I stepped closer until breathing put my chest flush against his, electricity cracking between our skin as it searched to ground itself with the other.

  “I don’t need you to be a gentleman, Mick. I need you to be a good man,” I murmured, tipping my face up to his.

  He chuckled hoarsely. “Is there a difference?”

  I nodded. “A gentleman does what’s right for a woman.” I licked my lips. “A good man does what’s right for his woman.”

  His easy smile faltered as desire and possessiveness pooled like molten honey in his eyes.

  “And are you my woman?” he asked, his coarse tone sending goose bumps on a delicious path down my spine.

  My heart thudded like a drumroll in my chest and, holding his gaze, I admitted huskily, “I’d like to be.”

  His lips captured mine with a victorious growl as he lifted and held me tight against his chest. I smiled and melted into his kiss. And it was a kiss that felt more like coming home than any time I’d ever stepped onto Rock Beach property.

  What could have been hours or more likely only minutes later, he pulled back, and our breaths frantically filled the space our kiss had taken.

  “Does that mean you want me to be, too?” I asked breathlessly, blinking slowly as I tried to regain my senses.

  Possessiveness thundered in his gaze. “Darlin’, I’ve wanted you since the moment I held you on that sidewalk, all that silent strength screamin’ in your eyes, tryin’ to save Laurel,” he said with a desire-hoarse voice. “But you’ve been my woman since the moment my tongue tasted the sweet honey between your thighs.”

  I couldn’t stop my small moan of want, explicit images from the other night flashing in my mind of his mouth devouring me.

  “And as much as I want to taste more of you right now, Jules, I gotta get back to work before Miles has my head.” He nuzzled my nose with his and I swore this was what heaven must be—to know that I was protected… desired… loved.

  I cleared my throat and stepped back from his arms.

  Even with my limited experience, I knew it was too soon to say that. But I wasn’t a fool.r />
  I was on a one-way street that dead-ended with being completely in love with Mick Madison, and I had no desire to do anything but get there faster.

  “Enjoy your cookies.” He reached for the box that he’d previously set down and handed it to me with a lopsided grin. “I’ll see you on Wednesday for dinner.”

  My head tipped to the side. “Wednesday? Dinner?”

  “Dinner, darlin’.” His smile widened. “We’ve got a job up in Monterey for the next few days, but Wednesday I’ll be back and workin’ on Gwen’s kitchen. But after that, I’m figurin’ you’ll be finishin’ up at Roasters, so I’d like to pick you up and take you on a proper date.”

  My teeth sunk into my lower lip but that couldn’t stop the wave of happiness from lighting up my face or heating through my body.

  “Should I wear something nice?”

  His fingers gripped my chin. “As long as you’re wearin’ that smile, I don’t think much else is going to catch my attention.”

  He pressed another hard kiss to my lips before he turned and left, leaving me slightly unsteady on my feet and my heart giddy with the way it beat.

  I hugged the box of cookies to my chest like my mother hugged her Chanel purses—like it was my most prized possession—and quickly shut myself in my room, deciding it was going to take several minutes before I could contract my smile to a more manageable degree.

  Plus, I couldn’t resist a cookie.

  Reaching in the box, I grabbed one of the snickerdoodles and took a bite, sagging against the door with relief.

  They. Were. Amazing.

  Moist and sweet—without being too sweet—the bite crumbled to perfection over my tongue.

  I’d had snickerdoodles in the past—ones made by pastry chefs for famous guests that were meant to impress. And they did. But this was different because I’d made them. My hands had measured, mixed, and molded the ingredients—hands that were raised to be decorated with jewels and put on display.

  Maybe I was crazy. Maybe my brain was still a little wonky from the concussion. Or maybe Mick’s kiss threw off my perception. But I felt like I could taste the difference because I could taste my effort.

  I made them, and that was why I loved them.

  Sighing, I devoured the rest of the cookie in one bite, shutting the lid to the box so I wouldn’t indulge further.

  Walking over to the vanity, I began unloading the rings from my fingers and the large pearl earrings from my ears. The metal of the rings clinked into my jewelry dish like they might as well have been rocks for all they impressed me.

  The contrast was so clear now—coming from lunch with my parents right into stealing a few moments in the hall with Mick.

  I tried to love it—the opulence and luxury, the jewels and the cars and the clothes—like they did, but all I heard was Shania Twain belting out in my brain, ‘that don’t impress me much.’ Especially when I looked down at the small box of homemade cookies that came baked with so many memories and felt so. Much. More.

  I wasn’t sure what hurt worse—knowing that I’d grown up with everything only to realize it meant nothing or knowing that I’d have to explain to my parents, who I loved and appreciated, that I didn’t want everything they’d given me and instead, desperately craved all the things they hadn’t.

  I knew they wouldn’t be able to understand. It wasn’t who they were.

  But who they were wasn’t going to speak for who I was any longer.

  Jules

  “Does that sound like it’ll be okay?”

  I’d just finished explaining to Eve in detail the outfit I’d picked for my date with Mick tonight.

  She blinked up at me through her large glasses as she held her side-stretch position on the other side of the counter. Eve always used any spare minute during our shifts at Roasters to do some yoga stretch or other.

  “I think Mick isn’t going to care what you’re wearing, girl,” she said as her sideways face grinned. I blushed. “But I think it sounds really nice.”

  “I’ve never been on a date before. Not really,” I confessed, even though I was sure it was obvious by now.

  I’d spent all yesterday afternoon bugging Gwen about it while we were at the hospital, and now, poor Eve was the subject of my humming nerves.

  I’d had so many important meetings and dinners with so many world-renowned, influential people from the time I was a teen until now, but I was nervous about a date—a date with a man I’d already kissed and touched and let touch me.

  What was wrong with me?

  “I’m not sure I’ll be too much help in that department,” Eve said wryly, coming to stand straight. “I mean, I’ve been on a few dates, but none where I’ve felt about the guy like you feel about Mick. Unfortunately.”

  “Just a few?” I was surprised to hear her say that.

  She nodded. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a forever girl,” she began, tipping to the side to stretch in the other direction. “I saw my sister go through some things a while ago, and it changed the way I thought about relationships. Almost like a light switch.” She shrugged and adjusted her glasses. “I want to find someone who’s looking for their forever person and not just a one-night thing, and I think I’ll know my person when I meet him. So, I don’t really go on too many dates unless I feel that spark.”

  I waited another moment to make sure she was done before I replied, “I think that’s really admirable of you.”

  She arched her eyebrow. “That I’ve managed to stay a virgin this long?”

  I swatted the air in her direction. “That you decided what you want and you aren’t settling for less.” I reached for the bag of freshly roasted beans to reload the hopper on the espresso machine. “I’m grateful to have people in my life now who remind me it’s okay to do what’s best for you, regardless what some people might say.”

  I felt her arm reach around me and give me a squeeze.

  I hadn’t saved myself on purpose. It was just an unintended—or maybe intended by my parents—consequence of how I’d been raised.

  “There will always be times when you aren’t sure you’re doing the right thing. I have them every other day, especially when those Covington brothers walk in.” She sighed dramatically. “But your heart knows what’s right. That’s why I do so much yoga—to make sure I take the time to quiet my mind for long enough to hear it.”

  “The Covington brothers?” My eyes narrowed on her. “What about Miles?” I asked. “I think even I feel a spark when you two are in the same room.”

  Her cheeks turned bright red and she insisted, “No. Definitely not. That’s the kind of spark that’s attached to dynamite, not the kind of long-term connection I’m looking for.”

  “So, you don’t want him?” I asked again, unable to stop thinking about how she behaved that night at the Pub—and any other time Miles was around.

  There wasn’t anything more than polite civility on the surface but, like a fine mist, you could still feel there was something weighing down the air between them.

  “I mean, I’m attracted to him,” she mumbled. “But that has to go both ways…”

  She turned and, grabbing the boxes of sweetener packets, walked over to refill the containers on the small counter where customers grabbed them from.

  “I think he’d be interested if you asked him out.”

  She groaned and shook her head, her braid smacking the back of her shoulders. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she replied, though her voice wavered with the temptation. “I’d rather hear more about you and Mick because that makes me happy. I wonder where he’s going to take you…”

  She proceeded to muse for the last fifteen minutes of her shift about all the restaurants in town, giving me the rundown and her recommendations for each. From Pasta Bolognese at Sotto Sopra to Mushroom Fajitas at Las Madras to the Pineapple Express hot dog at the Dog House, by the end, I couldn’t keep all her suggestions straight.

  “Can’t wait to hear all a
bout it,” she called to me, slinging her yoga mat over her shoulder and waving to everyone else in Roasters as she left.

  I waved back, feeling a pang in my chest.

  Eve had set standards for herself, ones that she had every right to want. I just hoped that someone out there would be worthy of them, because for a girl who was so selfless and thoughtful, she deserved her fairy tale ending.

  Mick

  “You look beautiful, Jules,” I rasped appreciatively as I tried to stand steady, drinking in the sight of her.

  Long legs wrapped in dark jeans that tapered down to navy shoes with a low heel, a warm white sweater that gave just a glimpse of the creamy skin of her chest before clinging lovingly to the swells of her tits, and her hair… it was down again, just how I loved it; the soft brown loose curls draped over one shoulder.

  I reached for her hand and brought it to my lips, the scent of ground coffee and vanilla drugging my senses.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing from my compliment.

  There was no doubt she’d gotten more than her fair share of compliments during her life from people a whole helluva lot more important than me. But the way she responded to mine told me none of them touched her like mine did, and that made my whole body swell with pride—and possessiveness.

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asked as I held her hand and let her to my truck that was doubled-up out front of Roasters.

  My mouth quirked up. “And ruin the surprise?”

  “Well, Eve already prepared me for every possible option in town.” She chuckled, and my blood pumped faster knowin’ she’d been talkin’ to her friends about our date.

  I kept looking over at her eyes as we drove through town. Our destination was only a few blocks up but I could see the way she anticipated each restaurant we passed, only to move on to the next when I drove by it.

  “Sotto Sopra!” she exclaimed when I pulled up in front of the fancy Italian restaurant located right in the center of Carmel.