A Sweet Possibility (Archer Cove Series Book 2) (15 page)

He stopped. No! Jessie bit her lower lip and waited for him to deliver the bad news.

"I'd love to have you in that space."

Wait...what? Mr. Dinardo clicked the pen closed and put it back into his pocket. Jessie felt light-headed. "What's the condition?"

He paused. "The what?"

"The condition. You said you'd love to have me in that space. But what's the condition?"

Mr. Dinardo looked puzzled. "You'd have to pay rent, of course."

Jessie clapped her hands across her mouth. "That's all? I'd have to pay rent? Nothing else?"

"You'd be responsible for construction costs."

She nodded quickly. "Yes, I've applied for a loan to cover all of that. I just can't — this is unbelievable!"

She'd done it. She'd actually done it! George Dinardo was going to divide the space, and she was going to have a storefront with a pink and white polka-dot awning and scrolling letters on the windows. All because she had sold him on the idea.

"Mr. Dinardo, I could kiss you right now."

He laughed and held up a hand. "That's fine. We'll seal the deal the old-fashioned way and write up a contract."

"Is there anything I can do to say thank you?" She looked at the almost-empty box in his hands. "How about a larger box of chocolates for the family?"

He smiled. "My wife would love that. She'll be so happy to hear that a chocolate shop is coming to Archer Cove. She has a sweet tooth."

"Well, we'll have to send you home with a lot of sweets, then."

By the time George Dinardo left, it was time to lock up. Jessie stayed to bake for a while and then left for home. She decided on the way that she wasn't going to breathe a word about her business until that loan came through. The agreement with Mr. Dinardo wasn't final until she had the money she needed to invest, and there was no sense getting too excited just yet — she was overstimulated as it was.

Her stomach was filled with pins and prickles — over her business and over Nate. Just a few weeks ago when Quinn had dumped her, she'd felt stunned. Humiliated. Now she felt hopeful. Life was full of wonderful possibilities. It made her want to write poetry. Instead, she texted Nate.

Are you coming over later?

His response came almost instantly: I hope that's an invitation. Be there at 6.

Jessie didn't care that she was walking down the busy street, smiling at her cell phone like a woman possessed. Life was her favorite!

She stopped at the market and picked up a few ingredients for dinner before heading home. Then she took a long, hot bath and prepared a simple dinner for two: baked salmon with a honey mustard glaze, baked sweet potatoes, and a kale salad. Nate knocked on the door just as she was lighting a little tea candle she'd found mixed in with her Tupperware.

"You don't have to knock," she said as she swung open the door. "I let people who sleep with me just walk in —"

He stepped inside and pulled her against his chest, silencing her with a kiss that stole her breath. Then he pulled back to say, "I missed you all day long."

"I missed you, too." She sighed. His lips tickled her cheek and sent a shiver down her spine. "I made dinner."

"Perfect." He grinned wickedly and closed the door behind him with his foot. "I'll take care of dessert."

B
y the end
of three weeks, Nate was practically living in the cottage. Jessie figured it was fair enough since he owned it. As a bonus, he refused to collect rent. "It's the perk of sleeping with the landlord," he explained. She'd take it.

There were other perks, too. Like having a person to talk to in the morning instead of Prince Travis, and having someone to curl up against at night. She was learning that Nate sometimes took too long in the shower, and at night he pulled the covers to his side. But he also gave great back rubs, so she could forgive him.

They still woke early in the mornings to run, and with the Sweet Relief 5K only two weeks away, Jessie was amazed that she could run for twenty minutes straight. She was even more amazed that she enjoyed running. On the rest days, her legs felt twitchy and restless. "I hope you're happy," she said one night as they cleared the dinner plates. "You've turned me into a damn runner."

Nate froze, a mock stunned expression on his face. "Jessica Mallory, other than first agreeing to have sex with me, that may be the best thing you've ever said." She'd thrown a dishtowel at him.

Mostly, Jessie walked around thinking that she was happier than she'd ever remembered being. She felt like she was wrapped in a soft blanket and then bubble wrapped for added warmth and protection from the elements. Yes, being with Nate felt like wearing rain boots; she still had some bad days, but they didn't penetrate in the same way.

Then there came the afternoon that she went out during her break to hang flyers advertising the "Sweet Relief 5K." She turned out of Hedda's Bakery and nearly ran smack-dab into Quinn. "Whoa!" he said, and grabbed her by the arms before she struck him. "Careful there!"

He was business casual in a pair of chinos and a red polo shirt, and he was wearing the same cologne he always wore. Jessie's hands flew to her heart, which was scampering like a bunny in her chest. She dropped the flyers across the sidewalk. "Sorry! I wasn't looking!"

"I'll say." But he was amused, not angry. He released her arms. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." She fell to her knees and gathered the flyers, which were already starting to blow down the street.

"Here, let me help you."

Between the two of them, they managed to collect all of the flyers before she lost them to the wind or to someone's careless footstep. Jessie clasped them in her arms. They were disordered, but at least they were still intact. "Thank you," she said.

"No problem. It was my fault, really." Quinn rose to his feet. "I was just going to grab some lunch, but I hadn't decided on where yet." He looked at the bakery.

It was all nonsense, of course. Hedda's was the best lunch place in a three-block radius, and Quinn knew that. And of course he knew that she'd be working there. It was almost as if he'd stopped by just to see her. Jessie's palms grew damp.

She'd lost track of how many weeks it had been since she'd last seen Quinn, and of course she was in a different place at the moment. A better place. So why did bumping into her ex-boyfriend feel like getting jolted with a cattle prod?

She lifted her shoulders in a way that she hoped signaled her complete disinterest. "Well, we have lunch here. I'm heading out for a walk, but Emily can help you."

Her casual words belied her swirling emotions, some of which threatened to bubble to the surface if they stood there much longer.

Quinn made no effort to hide his scrutiny of her. "You look good, Jess."

"I feel good," she said, not bothering to add that at that particular moment, she wasn't feeling so hot. "Nate and I have been running together. He's planning a 5K. You should run it." She handed him a flyer.

He chuckled at that and held the flyer by the corner, as if it was dirty. "I don't know about that. We'll see."

"Suit yourself. Enjoy your lunch."

She turned on her heel and managed to take one step before he grabbed her by the elbow and said, "Wait. I haven't seen you in a while. Do you want to grab lunch?"

"I already ate." She pulled her arm out of his grip, trying to be polite about it.

"Well." He stepped closer and put his hands in his pockets, giving her a grin. "Maybe I can help you with the flyers?"

No, she was sure she didn't need help with that. "You should get your lunch. I'm going to go — hey!"

Quinn grabbed a few flyers off the top of her stack and headed for the nearest utility pole. "Do you have tacks, or...wait, here's one." He pulled an old gold tack out of the wood and used it to hang the flyer." See? I can help."

Jessie's jaw tightened, and a plume of anger burst in her chest. "I didn't mean you weren't able to help. I meant that I didn't want your help."

She reached for the flyers in his hand, but he pulled them away and headed for the next pole. "Come on. I'll help you, and we'll get these hung in no time."

She watched him as he located an old tack on the next pole and hung the next flyer. But he hung it in an awkward location where it wouldn't get much visibility. Jessie's feet pounded on the cement as she went over to undo the damage. "You're doing it all wrong. Just let me —"

"I'm a senior associate at Emerson & Palmer. I close multimillion-dollar deals. You don't think I know how to hang flyers?"

"No, I don't." It took some effort to remove the tack, which he'd driven deep into the wood. Jessie picked at it with her nail, but it wouldn't budge. "Damn it, Quinn. No one's going to see this now."

He laughed, but it sounded dry and ugly, and it made her feel two feet tall. "How many flyers do you have here, fifty? I'm sure people will see at least one of them." He looked down at them for the first time. "Sweet Relief, huh? Sponsored by The Chocolate Crush? What's that?"

"It's my new business." She reached for the flyers in his hand, and once again he pulled them out of her reach. "Give those to me."

"You're starting a business now?" He smiled. "That's really adorable. I want to hear more about it. Let me guess: it involves polka dots, doesn't it?"

Since when was he such a condescending prick? Jessie's cheeks burned with rage, and the corners of her eyes started to prickle. Damn it, she didn't want to cry. Not in front of Quinn. But she couldn't get control of her anger at the moment. She couldn't talk, either. Her throat was clogged by emotion.

"I'm proud of you." Quinn's voice was slightly mocking as he wandered over to the next utility pole and searched for a tack. "I am. I didn't think you had it in you. But I guess I'll have to see it to believe it, right? I mean, leaving your Uncle Hank and the comfort of Hedda's, actually taking a leap." He shook his head. "I guess I'll be watching."

He looked at her and flashed a smug grin. All of the hurt, shame, and anger that Jessie thought she'd been managing so well flipped off something in her brain. The next thing she knew, she was nearly on top of him, tugging the flyers out of his hand. Her flyers. "Stop it!" she shouted. "Stop it! Stop it!"

"What, you want these?" He crinkled the flyers in his fist before flinging them on the sidewalk. "There. Happy?"

She picked them off the ground, but they were hopelessly wrinkled and torn. Still, Jessie smoothed them as best she could, hating the way her chin trembled. "What is it with you?" she hissed. "You can't handle being rejected? I don't want to hang flyers with you, so you try to ruin my day?"

He sneered down at her. "I don't get rejected, sweetheart. Not by you."

The barb stung, but she stood her ground and lifted her chin. "You're a small person, Quinn. Small people leave those around them feeling worse."

"Thanks for the psychobabble, Miss Chocolate Crush." He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I try to do something nice for you, and this is what I get."

"No, you didn't try to do something nice for me. Not at all." Her voice shook with the force of her emotion, and she felt like the world was rippling straight through her. "You don't do nice things for people. You don't think of anyone but yourself."

God help her, she was crying. She couldn't hold back the flood. But she also couldn't hold on to that hurt and anger forever. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but her voice still cracked. "I thought I cared about you, and all you did was treat me like garbage. I thought that was my fault, that I wasn't good enough. Now I understand that our relationship was never about me. It was always about you."

He looked around them while she talked, feigning boredom. "Like I said, whatever. You're obviously hormonal right now."

She bit her lip and took a deep breath. The tears had started to subside. She wasn't going to give him the pleasure of hurting her. "I wish you the best, Quinn, but please don't ever try to contact me again. And don't come to Hedda's. You're not welcome there."

She pressed the flyers to her chest and returned to the little bakery. It felt safer there, and she could always hang the flyers after work.

W
hen Nate returned
to the cottage, Jessie was curled up in sweatpants on the couch, reading a book. "Hey," he said as he closed the door behind him.

"Hey."

She looked up with a little smile. Her eyes — had she been crying? She looked tired. Nate looked around the kitchen. "Want me to make dinner?"

"I'm not really hungry tonight. I thought I'd do some reading and go to bed early."

He paused. "Is everything okay?"

She closed her paperback slowly and lifted her head. "Just a long day. Nothing to worry about."

Nate had always known that Jessie worked long hours. She was up before dawn, and after she left the bakery, she worked on her own chocolates at home. Of course, they'd been pulling some late nights together, too. He figured it was beginning to catch up with her. "You should get some sleep," he said, and walked over to kiss her on the forehead. "I'll get out of your way. I should go home and do some laundry."

She intertwined their fingers, keeping him close. "You don't have to go. I like having you here."

He brushed her hair back from her face. Man, she looked exhausted. "Then I'll leave for a few hours and be back later. But I hope you're sleeping by then."

She smiled faintly. "Will do."

It was fine, Nate thought as he headed out again. Quinn had been texting him that afternoon, so they could meet up for dinner. They hadn't seen each other in weeks. After a series of text messages, they agreed to meet at Meme's. By the time Nate arrived, Quinn was already seated.

"Hey man," Nate said as he pulled up a chair. "Good to see you."

"You too." But Quinn didn't look happy to see Nate at all. In fact, he looked pissed off about something. Jeez, was there something in the water? "Bad day?"

His friend only grunted in response. "The usual."

"What's new? I don't see you much these days. You must be busy with Caryn."

Quinn eased back in his chair and looked away. "Caryn's a bitch," he said.

"Huh." An evening alone folding laundry was beginning to look better and better. Nate reached for the menu. "Should we get the usual?"

A waiter came by and set a pint of beer in front of Quinn. "Anything for you, sir?"

"Just a water is fine," Nate said.

Quinn took a long sip and set the glass back on the table. "I'm swearing off women."

He leaned forward and tapped Quinn's glass. "You know, you may want to think about swearing off this stuff, too. Not that I don't love getting drunk phone calls at one in the morning."

"Piss off. It's my first drink." Quinn eyed him sidelong. "What's going on?"

"With what?"

"With you. You look happy about something, and I want to know what it is."

Nate and Jessie hadn't told anyone about their relationship yet. Not that it was a secret. More like they didn't want to name it. They hadn't had The Talk. But it was gnawing at Nate, and things between him and Quinn were going to be awkward all night if he wasn't straight with him. Besides, it wasn't like Quinn would be upset. He and Jessie had barely dated, and they'd broken up almost six weeks ago.

"It's funny, actually," he said. "Jessie and I are starting to see each other."

Quinn's face showed no reaction. "See each other? What's that mean, you're sleeping together?"

There was an edge to his voice that Nate didn't like. "It's what I said. We're seeing each other. I wanted you to hear it from me first. I don't want things between us to be strange."

Quinn took another gulp of his beer. "Funny, 'cause she was all over my junk this afternoon."

Nate froze. "You saw each other? When?"

Damn, but he hated feeling like the jealous boyfriend all of a sudden. He wasn't that type. But Jessie and Quinn had a history, and she hadn't even mentioned seeing him.

"I was out at lunch and I ran into her," he said. "She was hanging flyers for that race you guys are doing. She asked me for my help."

Nate clenched his jaw as the image popped into his head: Quinn and Jessie hanging the race flyers together. "She didn't say anything to me."

His friend arched an eyebrow knowingly. "Yeah, well. It was nothing, so don't worry about it. I'm totally over it."

"And how was she?" He shouldn't have asked. He didn't want to know. It wasn't his business, and he trusted her. There was no reason not to.

"How was she?" Quinn echoed as he thought about it. "Friendly, I guess. Flirty. You know how Jessie is. She was wearing a cute little skirt. She has great legs."

Nate's stomach had worked itself into a ball. He didn't feel like eating. He was sick of Quinn and the way he treated people. He was sick of feeling like he had to compete with him for Jessie's attention. He thought back to that night that he'd accused Jessie of making a lot of excuses for Quinn. Well, he was no better.

"You know what, man? I'm not feeling that great tonight." Nate pushed back his chair. "I think I'm going to go home."

Quinn looked surprised. "Why, because of what I said about Jessie? I told you, I'm not interested."

Nate stood. "Yeah, you're not interested. And you only said something about her to get at me, and to try to put me in my place. I've looked at you as my equal, but you seem to think you're better. Friends like that suck."