Page 22 of Remembering You
5
The next morning, I woke in my new bed. In my new apartment. No… in my newcabin. And even though it was all mine, I could feel Jim in every inch of it. I felt him in the carved window frame. In the rosettes that adorned the corners of the doorways. In the strong, broad railings of the back deck. With a sigh, I stretched and swung my feet around to the side of the bed. Even my ankle felt a little better after a good night’s sleep.
Light poured in through my open windows and I made a mental note to make some curtains once I made enough money to buy a sewing machine.
The smell of breakfast—bacon, definitely bacon—wafted toward me. I hopped out of bed, tying my robe around my waist and grabbing my crutches which Jim had left conveniently leaning against the headboard, and I hobbled out to the kitchen.
I froze in the doorway. The sight of Jim at the stove took the breath right from my lungs. He was shirtless and even though it was the dead of winter, his skin had a golden bronze hue to it. His back muscles rippled with each movement, broad and strong up near his shoulders and narrowing as I followed the line down to his lean waist. Two dimples at the small of his back completed the Adonis-like picture.
There was a shirtless man. In my kitchen. In my new apartment. And he was making me breakfast. I knew that moving to Maple Grove would be my calling to become an adult. I just didn’t imagine it would happen overnight. Literally.
“When you’re done staring, there’s coffee made,” Jim said, without turning around.
Dammit. Were those dimples at his lower back actually eyeballs? While I knew I should stop staring, I just couldn’t. He was too gorgeous.
“Your crutches are louder than a rickety roller coaster. Good luck sneaking up on anyone with those.” He glanced over his shoulder, his dark hair still messy from sleep and even more rasp peppered his chiseled jaw than yesterday. But then, he grinned that lopsided smile that was all dimples and white, pearly teeth, and his eyes seemed to sparkle more with that smile directed right at me.
I sighed, making my way to the coffee. “Why anyone would ever cheat on you is beyond me.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and sipped it black. Usually, I used cream, too, but black coffee was better than no coffee any day.
Jim turned, propping his hip against the stove. Holy God, the front view was even better than the back view. The sinews of his pecs begged to be stroked—preferably by my fingers. His abs rippled and a line of hair disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans along with those little ‘v’ muscles that seemed to point right to his—
“I’m not a piece of meat, you know that?”
I gulped and dropped my gaze to the floors immediately as an embarrassed sort of heat curled low in my belly. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to stare. You’re just so…” I swallowed, slowly raising my eyes back to his. Oh, God. What was I even saying? Who talked like this? I must have sounded like a teenager. Well, hell, I guess I am a teenager. That weird age where I’m technically an adult, but still a teen. Either way, I sure as shit didn’t want to sound like one. Especially not in front of Jim.
“I just mean… you’re, um, it’s hard to take my eyes off of you.”
His smile softened and the tenderness of his gaze combined with the soft smile made my blood heat. Even more than the sight of his body—those eyes. Those lips. They were the real aphrodisiac.
“Well, then… you should see what I’m looking at right now,” he whispered. “I watched you sleep for a little while before finally coming out to fall asleep on the couch.” He stepped forward, turning the stove off and dropping the spatula onto the counter before making his way slowly across the kitchen until he was standing in front of me. He tugged gently on the belt of my robe. “And what makes you even more gorgeous… you don’t even have to try. You are sensational just as you are. Here in your robe.” With the pad of his thumb, he brushed across my bare eyes which fluttered closed at his touch. “With no mascara.” He moved his touch down to stroke up the slant of my cheekbones. “With no blush.” His fingers danced down my jaw until his thumb brushed my bottom lip, pinching it gently between his fingers. “No lipstick. You’re just you. And that is gorgeous.”
I would have melted to the floor right there in front of him if he hadn’t been holding me up. I closed my eyes, parting my lips and awaited the kiss that would have felt so right in that moment.
But it never came. After a few moments, I opened my eyes and found his gaze fixed onto my mouth. He gave a heavy sigh and took a step back. “Not like this,” he muttered and raked his hand through his hair, shaking his head.
I clutched my robe tighter around my body. My thoughts shifted back to my vision board—the lingerie, the rose petals scattered across silk sheets. Okay, maybe silk sheets it wasn’t exactly a realistic everything I’d put on that board, but the sentiment was right—romance. I wanted to feel luxurious and sexy. And right now in my robe? I did. Jim was luxurious and I would take him over silk sheets and rose petals any day. “Not like what?”
With a swallow, the pillar of his throat tightened and bobbed. “Not in the middle of your kitchen, the day after my relationship ended, on the very morning that you’re supposed to begin working for me. It’s just not… right.”
I didn’t totally agree, but something told me there was no use arguing. He backed away, filling a plate with eggs and bacon and a side of beans and salsa, handing it to me before serving himself.
“Huevos Rancheros for my… California girl?”
I laughed and shook my head. “I said I was southern.”
He chewed the inside of his cheek in thought before adding, “Southern California?”
“No,” I answered with a giggle and spooned a bite of egg into my mouth. “Not from California or Southern California.”
He shrugged and took a bite of bacon. “It was worth a guess.”
I pushed some beans around my plate, looking up at Jim through the web of my lashes. My heart lurched, slamming into my chest. “So… when?” I asked.
“When what?”
I cleared my throat and raised my eyebrows in a challenging stare at him. “If not here in my kitchen on the morning before I start working for you… then when… can we…?”
His smile twitched at the corners of his mouth as he stabbed a forkful of eggs. “Friday,” he said. “Valentine’s Day. Can I take you out for a Valentine’s Day dinner?”
Despite the little worry of doubt whispering in the back of my mind that he just got out of a relationship, I couldn’t help my grin. “I’d love that,” I answered, bringing a piece of bacon to my mouth, nibbling at the edge.
“Just one more thing,” Jim said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out the ten-dollar bill and slid it across the counter toward me. The little heart I had drawn on with a highlighter winked back at me in the morning light. “You’ve gotta do better than slipping it into my coat when you think I’m not looking.”
