Page 60 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

Chapter Five

Jameson wondered why he was looking forward to seeing her.

He paced the living room in moody silence and waited for her arrival. He couldn’t understand how this slip of a woman got under his skin and stayed there. And why had he made that ridiculous bet? He knew the rules. Never wager unless the odds were ninety percent or higher. Had he been that confident in the new menu? Honestly, he’d been taught better than this. When bringing anything new to customers, there was always a transitional period where people fought change. Even if the place wasn’t good, it was what they knew.

He'd tried to create excellence too quickly, then got too cocky. But it was hard not to try and show Devon he knew what he was doing. She made him question his natural leadership skills, and simply put?

It pissed him off.

After all, she sold flowers, which must be the easiest job on the planet. Having her challenge each of his decisions while trying to deny his attraction was difficult. He was a master at separating his emotions and ignoring the messy parts of himself he refused to indulge. Devon pushed at his boundaries. It was hard not to stare at her while she flitted around Vintage in that tight black skirt.

The exact uniform he’d insisted on.

But it was more than her gorgeous body. He’d watched her interact with the customers with such a natural warm energy, everyone wanted to be part of her orbit. The way she threw her head back and laughed without restraint. How she seemed to create an intimacy with each person within such a shorttime. He’d watched professional waitstaff try to emanate those qualities and fail because it wasn’t a core part of them.

Devon naturally exuded radiance with every person around her.

Except him.

The only thing he seemed to coax was sharp-tongued retorts.

On cue, the bell rang. He drew in a breath and opened the door.

She wore clingy yoga pants, a faded peach t-shirt that said BLOOM, and a big ass grin. The dog pressed against her leg, panting. Drools of saliva pooled around his massive paw. “Bear, meet your new daddy.”

He almost choked. “Very funny. This has an expired timeline, you know. I can’t keep a dog with my schedule.”

“No worries, you can bring him pretty much everywhere.”

He shook his head as she stepped past and unclipped Bear’s leash. The monster immediately prowled around the space, ears perked up, fur flying with each step. “I can’t believe Mac agreed to this. He has a pretty nice place that’s going to be ruined.”

His cousin had bought a generous sized house in North Cape May, about ten minutes from town. White with turquoise shudders, it was located on a prized corner lot a few blocks from the bay. Jameson liked the fenced yard and front porch for enjoying outdoors, and the large kitchen outfitted with all updated equipment. He wasn’t as thrilled with the eclectic furnishings, and endless knickknacks his cousin loved to collect. There seemed to be no single theme, just a mishmash of beachy furnishings in various bright colors. Teak tables, wicker rockers, and braided rugs covered a birch wood colored floor. Throw pillows painted with seagulls scattered atop worn navy blue sofa cushions. Happy painted signs declaring Beach Home and Summer Vibes blended with some badass canvases consisting of a half-naked woman poised on the end of a cliff. Thebrushstrokes were bold and moody and Jameson found himself drawn to the artwork, studying them for long periods of time.

He wondered if Mac did weed, or if he was just naturally quirky with his taste.

Devon dragged in a large tote bag and set it on the floor. “I brought his food, some bowls, treats, and toys. Mac has a few large dog beds in the attic he keeps on hand.” Her ponytail swung as she looked around the house. “How are you settling in here? This doesn’t seem like your normal style.”

He tried not to take offense and cocked his head curiously. “What do you think my style is?”

Her bottom lip quirked in a half smile. “I’m guessing modern. Clean lines. Minimal furniture.”

He hated that she was right. His loft apartment was stark black and white with metal sculptures and custom-made light fixtures with an industrial flare. He loved space and breath in his architecture though he was also comfortable in a tiny cramped pantry or kitchen. “Correct. And I would guess your place is filled with flowers?”

That got her to laugh. “Correct. Though I keep the good stuff for my shop since I’m there all day. My place is above the store so it’s an easy commute.”

He wanted to see her personal space. Imagined it bright and cheerful with just a hint of edginess. “Have you always lived in Cape May?” he asked.

Bear pushed his head around the corner, checking to make sure they hadn’t moved. His giant tail whacked against the wall in doggy delight, and then he disappeared again.

“No, I’m originally from New York.”

He lifted a brow. “Really? What part?”

“Soho.” A smile touched her lips like she was caught in a memory. “I did the fast lane for a while. Held two jobs, did yoga at six am every morning, and brunch every Sunday. Oneweekend I went to a friend’s wedding in Cape May and when I crossed the bridge, my entire soul vibrated.”

“You’d never been before?”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t really a beach person. Or so I thought. That weekend changed everything. I walked into the water and watched dolphins play in the waves and I cried.”

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