Page 15 of Outspoken Hearts
"Just work," I mutter. "Professional collaboration. Nothing more."
Except it doesn't feel that way. Not since O'Malley's. Not since he told me about his siblings. Not since that look that stole my breath.
I grab my things and approach his Craftsman house, understated and perfectly maintained. Immaculate gardens, inviting porch.
Before I can even knock, the door swings open.
"Right on time." James smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that makes my heart do a little flip. "Come in."
I step inside, immediately struck by the warm, open space. High ceilings, hardwood floors, built-in bookshelves filled with actualbooks, not just decorative objects. It's magazine-worthy but still feels lived-in.
"Your home is beautiful," I say, following him through to a sunlit dining room where papers and laptops are already arranged on a large table.
"Thanks. I renovated most of it myself when I bought it three years ago."
"You renovated this?" I look around, genuinely impressed. "Is there anything you can't do?"
He laughs, but there's something tight in it. "Plenty. Coffee?" He gestures toward the kitchen. "Or I have tea, water..."
"Coffee would be great. Black is fine."
While James prepares our drinks, I take the opportunity to look more closely at the room. Family photos line one wall—James with who must be his siblings, all with the same warm smile. A bookshelf holds a mix of business titles, biographies, and several books on carpentry and home restoration.
He returns with two mugs, handing one to me. Our fingers brush in the exchange, and I feel that now-familiar spark of connection.
"So," I say, settling into a chair. "The Chamber breakfast is tomorrow. Are we ready?"
"Almost." James sits opposite me, spreading our notes. "I think we should start with the 'why'—why Meadowbrook needs a rebrand—before showing the designs."
"Good idea. Context is everything." I open my laptop. "I've refined the visuals based on feedback. Want to see?"
We fall into an easy rhythm, discussing transitions and talking points. It's comfortable, this partnership. The way we anticipate each other's thoughts, build on each other's ideas.
But underneath runs something more, in his lingering glances, how he leans toward me when I speak, his careful attention to my suggestions.
After an hour, James leans back. "I think we're in good shape."
"Agreed." I close my laptop. "Though I'm still nervous about speaking at the Chamber."
"You'll be amazing. You know this material inside out."
"It's not the material I'm worried about. It's me. I tend to overdo it. Get too passionate, take up too much space."
"What makes you say that?"
"Experience. My ex said I was 'too intense.' My teacher wrote I was 'enthusiastic to a fault.' Even my sister sometimes says I need to dial it back."
James considers this. "Can I tell you what I see?"
I meet his gaze. "What?"
"Someone who cares deeply. Who invests fully in her work, ideas, relationships. That's not a flaw. It's what makes you exceptional."
His sincerity catches me off guard. "You don't find it overwhelming?"
"It's refreshing. Your intensity isn't too much. It's exactly right. At least... to me."
The air between us feels charged with unspoken feelings.
