Jayson: A New Adult / Coming of Age Romance (11 page)

“God, don’t make me panic. I’m barely holding things together as it is. I think I just failed that English paper I turned in. I glanced at it in class before giving it to my professor and saw, like, ten typos. I was half asleep when I did it yesterday.”

“You need a break, child.”

I laugh at the obvious while I check my voicemail. At the sound of Jayson’s mellow voice, the laugh evolves into a soft, heated sigh. “Hi, Kit. I hate to keep calling you, but I really need to do a conference with you to discuss progress and plans for the next phase of renovation so we can get this project complete. I’ve got clients backed up. Uh, gimme a call when you get the chance…Bye.” I gaze down at the phone and hang up, envisioning him shirtless and sweaty, walking around my house with his tool belt slung around his hips. I see his eyes narrow as he sizes up a construction problem…or maybe me…I mentally take a step closer to him and daringly place my hand on his chest to feel his feverish skin. As I lick my lips, the vision fades. I’m back in the student union with Grace, embarrassed at how easy it was to segue into another fantasy about Jayson.

“Ugh! He does that to me every time!”

“What?” Grace stares at me expectantly. I shake my head, not bothering to explain my exclamation. “Well, what’d he say?”

“He wants to do a conference about the next phase of renovations.”

“Sounds like a thinly veiled date.” She giggles.

“It does, doesn’t it? The thing is the last time I talked to him I told him I really didn’t have space in my life for a relationship right now.”

“I know. Castiel told me. We went out that night, and he wanted the two of you to come. Jayson told him.”

“How close are you and Castiel anyway?” I ask suspiciously. She waves off my accusatory tone.

“Girl, I have the same kind of time for a serious relationship as you do, as in
none
. He really is only a friend, but I like his company. Since we’re on the subject, he’s worried about his brother. He says Jayson stays so preoccupied with making sure everyone else in his family is taken care of that he doesn’t really prioritize himself. Kit, if you want my opinion, Jayson Zephyr would be perfect for you. You two deserve each other! He’s kind, compassionate and sensitive. He’s hardworking. Forget what your mom says about him. He’s a catch!”

“The way my hormones go haywire at the mere thought of him, he could be a playboy womanizer for all my body cares. Can you keep a secret? I dream about him. Like, I don’t even have any control over it. I’m not willfully doing it. It just happens.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“What? No!”

“Well, I do, Kit. Think about it. We make snap decisions about people every day, all day, and we’re usually right. The human psyche is designed to quickly pick up things about others that we may not consciously register until later, but within five minutes of meeting someone you almost always know how you feel about them. We’re conditioned as a culture to think love takes time and everything else can be fast, fast, fast. It’s the other way around. Sure, it takes time to get to know someone, but it doesn’t take forever to fall for them.”

“If you say so. The key factor in your analysis, however, is still time. Speaking of which, I’ll be late for class if I don’t leave now. You can tell Castiel I think his brother is cool, but I’m not the one to save him from himself. Jayson has to figure out how to put himself first on his own terms. I’m definitely putting me first in
my
life, and that means no room for boys. Talk to you later, chica-boom.”

“Whatever you think is best. Call me when you’re done with class for the day. No, wait, call Jayson! Find out if that conference really is a date.”

“He might intend it to be, but I’m thinking business brunch,” I say with a laugh. I stroll off to class, thoughts of seeing Jayson sending butterflies through my core. The one thing I can’t say with any truthfulness is that he doesn’t have an effect on me. He definitely does. But I can’t let butterflies keep me from my goals of success. At any rate, he’ll be done with my house soon and completely out of my life. Jayson Zephyr won’t get the best of me…no matter how badly I want to give it to him.

“
I
was
in class when you called, but I got your message. Want to meet for brunch Sunday morning?”

“I’d like to do it sooner if possible.”

“Oh, it’s the only day I have available. I’ve got class, obviously, and work all week.”

I skim through my calendar and flip to the weekend, which is free and clear for me. To be honest, the stuff I need to go over with her can be discussed in five minutes or less, and I could probably write it up and drop it in her mailbox for her convenience. But I haven’t seen her, I haven’t even heard from her in days, and I haven’t stopped thinking about her. When she didn’t answer my calls, I figured she was blowing me off.

I tell myself it’s insane to try to get her away from the chaos of the house and her life, away from her comfort zone in the hopes she might…change her mind about me. No, this is strictly to talk about the house.

“Sunday morning around ten sound good to you? There’s a Thai bistro on the east side. You like Thai food?”

“Love it, actually. Good choice.”

“I’ve been there a time or two myself and can’t stop raving about it. But, uh, the meeting shouldn’t take long. I’ll text you the address of the place once I find it online.” My palms are sweaty and my pulse high, turned on by the thought of being alone with her. I glance out the window of my office door at the main floor of Zephyr Brothers Construction. Too bad handling a crush isn’t as easy as running a business. I chuckle to myself. “Is that alright with you?” I murmur, smiling.

“I’ll keep an eye out for the text, thanks. I’ll see you there.”

“Great! I’m looking forward to it.” A moment later, I hang up the phone and pencil in the date. “Get it right, Jayson.” It’s not a date. It’s a
conference
.

Sunday morning arrives bright and early for me, but I puzzle over clothing options for so long I end up having to rush everything else before it’s time for me to go. I settle on jeans and a casual button-down because I don’t want to seem too laid back or too professional for this. “Hey, Momma, Ash will be up in about two minutes. He just texted me to say he’s coming up the street. Did you take your medicine yet?” I call out as I leave my bathroom after getting dressed. The home health aide who sits with Mom through the day is off on weekends. I step out of my bedroom and amble across the living room to peek in on my mom.

“Those narcotics make me so out of it, Jayson,” Momma says. “I’ll hold off on taking them until I really need to. Now, don’t you worry about me. I have my e-reader; I’m catching up on the latest from my favorite author. Dang cozy mysteries are impossible to put down. Have a good time out with Kit.”

I brace my elbow on the doorframe and shake my head with a grin. This woman never gives up. “It’s work, Momma. Are you in any pain? Don’t lie to me, now.”

“Not in pain, dear. Ashby will take care of me.”

“Sounds like that’s him at the door.” I duck out of Mom’s room and hurry across to the living room door to open up for my youngest brother. Giving him instructions on how she likes things done throughout the day, I quickly locate my keys and check to make sure I have all the paperwork necessary for the brief presentation for Kit. I run in and kiss Mom’s forehead. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Take your time.”

Depending on traffic, I might be late. I’m cutting it close.

T
he bistro
on the Upper East Side is in a nondescript sandstone building tucked between other storefronts, the dark glass reflecting the tree-lined street. I fold my sleeves up and check my reflection before pushing open the glass door and surveying the room. There she is at a front table near the windows. The sunlight filters in and bleaches her hair a paler shade, and her clear grey eyes light up when she sees me. “Over here,” she waves to me.

I swing my briefcase over the back of my chair and set it against the wall as I reach across the table for a handshake. “I thought I wouldn’t make it on time,” I confess. “Did you find the place okay?”

“It was a cinch. I would’ve waited for you anyway. I didn’t have anything else planned for today. I’m kind of excited to hear about what comes next with my house, to tell you the truth. We can order first, though. I don’t want to rush you. I admit I’ve never had Thai brunch before. Have you?”

“I have. Happy to know it’s a first for you. Let’s start with pomegranate mimosas.” I beckon for the server, and the both of us place our orders after I guide her through the menu. The zesty aroma of exotic cuisine permeates the air and conversations from other patrons buzz pleasantly around us. I do a quick look around. There aren’t a lot of people in the restaurant, thanks to the early hour.

Automatically my gaze returns to Kitrina and refuses to be distracted by anything else, and for good reason. The roundness of her cheeks, delicately flushed pink, her upturned eyes glinting like lake water, and her full, sensual lips invite my shameless stare. I suddenly realize it might’ve been a mistake to insist on meeting like this. The way her gauzy hair falls around her face, I’m finding it hard to keep my mind on the business at hand. I think about kissing her, remember the taste of her lips.

“Well, the good news is, we’re almost done with your house,” I announce with a shake of my head. She beams, clapping excitedly.

“Castiel told me you guys were ahead of schedule. I’m so amped about it now that I’ve decided to keep the place. Did I tell you that? Oh, I couldn’t see myself parting with it now that it’s feeling more like home. I’ve already begun looking around for pieces so I can officially start decorating, but some of the stores I went to were simply outrageously priced. I’m going to be an interior decorator someday so I probably have extravagant tastes.”

“Ah, is that what you’re going to school for?”

“Mm hmm. Don’t laugh, okay? I’ve always had this dream of having my own show on HGTV, my interest in design and décor paired with a desire to get back in front of the camera. When I was a kid I did some acting, but after my dad passed away my industry career tapered off.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your father… Any roles in movies I’d be familiar with?”

“Probably not,” she giggles, waving away the sad and centering on the positive. “I mostly did commercials. Remember the toilet tissue kid with the paper ballroom dress commercial? That little girl was me.”

“Ha! I actually do remember that. You were a cute kid,” I reply with a grin. I lean forward. “Can’t wait to see your show so I can tell everybody I knew that lady. I went to school for construction management, myself.”

“Really? What, like a certification?”

I laugh softly because I get that question a lot when I mention having gone to college to be a contractor. “No, it’s a legitimate degree program. I’ve been out three years, and my company has been open since I’ve been out. In fact, speaking of commercials, I recently wrapped up one with my brothers that’s airing now. Business is picking up, and I decided we could use some advertising.”

“I’ll look out for that. It has to be exciting to be part of a big family, having a lot of brothers like that. I’m an only child, but I’ve never really wanted siblings.”

“All different kinds of personalities under one roof. It’s amazing how well we get along.”

The server interrupts us to set down heaping platters of tum tang watermelon slaw and brioche waffles and wings. “Thank you,” I say. He inclines his head and soundlessly drifts away as Kit and I attack our plates. The first forkful of waffle is a buttery, sweet mélange that explodes on my tongue with bursts of flavor. I close my eyes and savor it.

“Tell me about your childhood,” she says. “I feel like I’ve known you for a while now, but I hardly know anything about you. What made you want to do the kind of work you’re doing now?”

I look up and see her elegantly cutting into a chicken wing, making me laugh. I take her fork and gesture to her hands. “Get dirty with me. I don’t mind. That’s finger food.”

“Humph! I could take that statement so many ways,” she confesses with a mini groan. The sound sends a ricochet of desire cutting from my fingertips to my toes and back. Her eyes sparkle mischievously, but I ignore the innocent flirtation.

“Hmm, about your question. That’s an easy one. Back when I was a kid, my brothers and I spent a lot of time with our grandparents over the summers because our mom worked so much. Momma would usually hold down two or three jobs at a time, and Gram wouldn’t hear of sending us to daycare. Anyway, my grandpa had a woodshop in the garage because he made dollhouses for my little cousins as a hobby. He’d take us out and let us fiddle around with his tools. All four of us boys came to love working with our hands as a result. So, when it came time to pick a career path, I naturally wanted to be a carpenter. Oh, and I wanted to be my own boss, too.”

She laughs lightly. “You seem to have had incredible success in a short amount of time!”

“Well, I learned early the value of a good reputation. I aim to keep Zephyr Brothers talked about for all the right reasons.” I think about my brief criminal past and almost bring it up, since we’re talking about my history, but Kit is a client. It’s better if some boundaries stay in place. She’s probably making small talk, being polite, and I’m reading too much into things, assuming she’s really interested in my past and future. But it’s a pleasant assumption. I can’t recall ever feeling that a woman genuinely wanted to get to know me.

Kit reaches across the table and pats my hand in a casual, friendly way. I’m aware of every ridge of her fingertips and the heat that accompanies them. She licks her lips slowly, pulling away slightly. She says, “I’ll be sure to leave rave reviews on your webpage. Honestly, your company far exceeded my expectations. When I hired you guys, I had no idea how to take the trouble that was dumped in my life and turn it into something positive. I bought that house on a whim. It seemed like a good idea until my mother hired an inspector to open my eyes. You’ve been a bigger help than you realize.” She stares at me, her gray-eyed gaze sincere . I feel like I can see her inner thoughts. I’m important to her.

“I’m just doing my job,” I lie. I’ve been told by motivational speakers in the past never to tell a customer or client that you’re just doing your job. Clients want to feel that you went out of your way to do something just for them, which is exactly how I’ve handled the renovations on Kit’s house from start to finish. But, I can’t tell her that. I can’t mention how much time goes into selecting each personal detail or design element for her, like the wallpaper. I spent hours scouring the Internet for deals to stay within her budget and styles I thought she’d like.

I selected the paneling for the kitchen with an eye for contrasting colors. I’ve paid attention to her. I’ve done special things for her when I shouldn’t have. “Customer satisfaction is my goal,” I murmur, pushing away from the truth.

“I’m satisfied.” Eye contact.

“Are you? I’m not even done yet.” Eye contact plus a half-smile from her, a slip of a grin from me. I drop my head. “Let’s get to the business part of this meeting,” I say before the innuendo gets too intense. I pick up my briefcase and snap it open to show her the graphics I put together earlier in the week.

We set aside our plates, and I pull out my notebook so I can show her what I’ve come up with for the upstairs floor. She has a bedroom and a smaller room she wanted to convert to an office, with extra outlets already installed. There’s an upstairs bathroom, as well as the balcony that will likely have to be re-boarded. I flip open the notebook and put on my contractor hat so I can explain to her what’s ahead.

“I like this one. I was skeptical of us taking out that blue tile when my mom suggested it. I’m glad you and I stuck with the original that’s in there, but what about the restoration? Do you foresee any problems with it?”

“Not in the least. This job has turned out to be easier than anticipated. This is the week before Thanksgiving, which means factoring in holiday time for my crew. Now, I originally thought we’d be done by Christmas. I’m pleased to report we’ll likely be finished the first week of December. How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds perfect.”

I stare at her before dropping my gaze to the computer. “That’s pretty much it, unless you have any questions.”

“Well, I just want to be a little more involved with picking out the flooring and stuff now that we’re getting to my bedroom.”

“Not a problem at all. In fact, I’ll have Castiel consult with you personally moving forward. You indicated before that you were fine with us making decisions like that for you. I hope you like what we’ve done so far, because if you don’t, we can change anything you want changed.”

“No, no,” she protests. “Um, will you be at the site more often in the future?”

I pause. I should say no. “I can be, if you need me to be.”

“I’d like that.”

I exit the restaurant after paying for the delicious meal, and Kitrina leaves ahead of me with a wave of her manicured fingers and toss of her white blond hair that draws the attention of every man in the place. I smile to myself as I climb into my truck, realizing I’m only getting closer to her when I really should be pulling away. It’s obvious she likes me. Or maybe she doesn’t know what she wants, which is another sign of her immaturity. Can’t blame her, though. She’s only twenty.

“Boy, Jayson, I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” I murmur, cranking up the truck.