Now, I’ve achieved all my professional goals—though I was twenty-five before I landed my own show and twenty-eight before my name became synonymous with good food and great entertaining. I’ve scaled to the top of my personal career mountain, but I still keep an inspiration wall at each of my homes, even my tiny ski cabin in Colorado. They keep me inspired and help me center myself when I’m feeling down or confused.
Today, I find the perfect quote within seconds—
Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow—Albert Einstein.
Hmmm…
Talk about food for thought.
I’ve been living for today and hoping for tomorrow, but have I really been learning from yesterday?
I have a history with Jake, after all, and somewhere in that history there must be clues that will help me find a path forward.
To craft the future of my dreams, all I need is time to meditate on the past.
My optimistic attitude holds through piling into the car with Mick and Maddie, finding a parking spot in the bustling, pre-Christmas frenzy downtown, and hustling into the cozy darkness of The Horse and Rider.
But as soon as my eyes adjust to the dim light in the honky-tonk, my confidence takes a direct hit so severe not even the cheery Christmas lights threaded through the swinging wooden gates that separate the tables from the empty dance floor can lift my spirits.
There, milling around a long buffet next to the bar, is most of the Bliss River Fire Department, minus Jamison—a detail for which I silently give thanks. The firefighters are laughing it up over subs, buffalo wings, and a massive veggie plate as a harried waitress rushes around refilling drinks.
Jake holds a half-empty beer, the liquid inside so dark it would put hair on his chest if he didn’t have plenty already.
Which I know he does—the perfect amount, actually, enough to be manly, but not to cross the line into Sasquatch territory.
His chest hair is, in fact, as perfect as the cock I can’t quit thinking about.
I shift uncomfortably, hoping the erotic images dancing in my brain aren’t showing on my face. Of course, even if I’m managing to hide my thoughts from the general population, the moment I lock eyes with Jake, the jig will be up.
Jake always knows when I’m thinking frisky thoughts.
“Sex eyes,” he’d called it back in the day, swearing my expression read like an engraved invitation.
An invitation that, in the past, he was never able to resist.
But he’ll resist now. He’ll probably resist so strongly he’ll run out the back door the way he ran from me at the fair and my fragile hopes for the future will be dashed forever.
I can’t do this. Not right now. I have to leave.
I can’t face Jake until I have my libido under control and a plan to win a second chance with him in place.
“Let’s go somewhere else.” I snag Maddie’s elbow and a handful of Mick’s old Bliss River High School homecoming sweatshirt.
“But they have the best Bloody Marys here,” Mick says, in a louder voice than I would have preferred.
“They have good ones at Mark’s Place, too.” Maddie turns to me with a wide-eyed look that makes it clear she’s seen Jake. “Come on, Mick, we can walk over to—”
“Mick Whitehouse!” The masculine voice booms from across the room by the firefighters’ gathering, making me cringe.
We’ve been spotted. Rats!
“What’s up, man?” calls the voice—which belongs to a youngish-looking firefighter with a buzz cut and shoulders as broad as Mick’s. “I haven’t seen you in years, brother.”
“Ben! I didn’t know you were still in town.” Mick bounds across the room like an overgrown puppy.
A big, dumb puppy who has just sentenced his older sister to several minutes—or, God forbid, an entire afternoon—of suffering, depending on how long Mick plans on playing catch-up with his friend.
And how long Jake sticks around…
Slowly, I shift my focus his way, knowing he will have seen me by now. I brace myself for the worst, but when our gazes connect across the room, he doesn’t grimace or sneer or freeze me out with the power of his cold, immovable “I feel nothing” face.
Instead, he studies me for a beat and then…he smiles.
It isn’t a big smile or a particularly warm one, but it’s a smile. It’s a step in the right direction, a small, beautiful, confusing-but-appreciated gesture that gives me the courage to pull in a deep breath, take Maddie by the arm, and cross the room.
Ready or not, Jake, here I come.
Chapter Ten
Jake
As Naomi and Maddie cross the room, I take another long pull of the lukewarm Guinness I’ve been nursing for the past half hour and prepare to make amends.
After the ridiculous way I behaved Friday night, damage control is in order.
By Saturday morning, I’d felt like a fool for bailing on the date. By Sunday, I’d promised myself I’d head over to the bakery and apologize—Naomi and I have three more dates to muddle through and I’m determined none of those will end with me running for cover like a coward.