“The poor woman was tasked with getting me up to speed on all departments when I started at LI. I’d still be aimlessly wandering the halls if not for her.”
“Lola will be missed, that’s for sure. So if you want to bring Mimi’s things on Sunday, that’ll work. I planned on going for the two hours.”
“Sounds like a plan. Speaking of . . . what are your plans for the weekend?”
None of your business. “Oh, this and that. Mimi has more things planned for you two than you could fit into two weeks, say nothing of two days.”
His dark eyebrow winged up. “Now I’m taking that as a personal challenge.”
Mimi held her arms out for a hug. “Bye, Mommy.”
“Bye, wild one. Behave, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Promise to call me tomorrow sometime.”
She sighed heavily. “I’d call you all the time if I had my own cell phone.”
I chuckled. “Nice try. Use Daddy’s phone. Or Grandma Edie’s.”
“But all of my friends have iPhones.”
“Eight-year-olds do not need a cell phone.” I sent Jaxson a stern look as a reminder not to swoop in and buy her one just because he could. Then I kissed her cheek. “Love you, Mimi.”
“Love you too.”
Jaxson gathered Mimi’s stuff with her chattering away at him like she always did. I wondered how much of it he paid attention to.
Not my concern. I’d had to learn to let go of a lot of my issues with Jaxson’s parenting style since he’d returned permanently to Minneapolis.
I waved good-bye and locked the door behind them.
* * *
* * *
As I readied myself for my first date with Damon, my thoughts scrolled back to the first time I’d met Jaxson Lund a decade ago . . .
I’d left work early to take my mother to the doctor. After I’d dropped her off at her place, I pulled into one of those super fancy deluxe car washes that offered one-hour detailing inside and out. Winter in the Twin Cities meant tons of road salt and freeway grime, and my poor car needed TLC. Not that my Toyota Corolla was anything fancy, but it’d been a major purchase for me after I’d graduated from college. My first new car, and I took good care of it.
With an hour to kill, I grabbed a magazine and a Diet Mountain Dew. The lobby wasn’t jam-packed with other customers—which was a total contradiction to the lines of cars outside—but I embraced the quiet for a change and settled in.
My alone time lasted about five minutes. A guy blew in—the wind was blustery, but not nearly as blustering as the man yakking on his cell phone at a thousand decibels.
“Peter. I told you I’m happy to stay at the same salary.” Pause. “Why? Because a salary freeze for a year isn’t the end of the world for me. Especially if that means they can use that extra money to lure the kind of D-man we need.”
I rolled my eyes and wished I’d brought my earbuds.
“No. What it speaks to isn’t that I’m not worth more money. It shows that I’m a team player.”
I tried to ignore the annoying man. But he paced in front of me, forcing me to listen to him as well as watch his jean-clad legs nearly brush my knees as his hiking boots beat a path in the carpet. From the reflection in the glass that allowed customers to see their cars going through the automated portion of the car wash, I knew he was a big man; tall, at least six foot four, with wide shoulders, long arms and long legs.
And huge lungs, because his voice continued to escalate. His pace increased. He gestured wildly with the hand not holding the phone. He couldn’t see me scowling at him, as his head was down and his baseball cap put his face in shadow. Not that he’d looked my way even one time to see if his loud, one-sided conversation might be bothering me.
Look at me, look at me! My job is so crucial that I can’t even go to the car wash without dealing with such pressing matters.
Ugh. I hated when people acted inconsiderate and self-important.
He stopped moving. “Fine. It’s stupid as shit, but an increase of one dollar if it’ll make you happy to have on record that my salary went up again this year. I’ll let you keep one hundred percent of that dollar instead of your usual twenty percent commission.” Pause. “Do you hear me laughing? Look. I’m done with this convo, Peter. Call me after the trade is over. Bye.”
I flipped through a couple of pages.
He sighed and shoved his phone in his back pocket. Then I sensed him taking in his surroundings for the first time. The lack of customers, no car going through the car wash to entertain him.
Please don’t assume I’ll entertain you. He was definitely that type of guy.
I silently willed him to go away. But I’ll be damned if the man didn’t plop down on the bench directly across from me. I felt his gaze moving up my legs from my heeled suede boots to where the hem of my wool skirt ended above my knees.
Continuing to ignore him, I thumbed another magazine page and took a swig of my soda.
“Ever have one of those days?” he asked me.
The smart response would’ve been no response. I’m not sure what compelled me to say, “One of those days where you’re enjoying a rare moment of quiet and some rude guy destroys it with an obnoxiously loud phone conversation? Why yes, ironically enough, I am having one of those days right now.”
Silence.
Then he laughed. A deep rumble of amusement that had me glancing up at him against my better judgment.
Our eyes met.
Holy hell was this man gorgeous. Like male model gorgeous with amazing bone structure and aquamarine-colored eyes. And his smile. Just wry enough to be compelling and “aw shucks” enough to be charming and wicked enough that I had a hard time not smiling back.
“I’m sorry. I don’t normally carry on like that, but he was seriously missing my point.”
“So I gathered.” Dammit. I’d confessed I’d been listening in.
He leaned in, resting his forearms on his knees. “I’m serious. I’m not that annoying cell phone guy.”
“Maybe not normally, but you were today.”
“You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“No. Also now you’ve moved on from being ‘annoying cell phone guy’ to annoying guy determined to convince me that he’s not annoying cell phone guy . . . which is even more annoying.”
His grin widened. “I’m supposed to apologize for that too? Okay. Sorry for interrupting your quality time reading”—he snatched the magazine off my lap—“Redbook and this article on how to prioritize organization in day-to-day life.”
My cheeks flamed even as I scooted forward to snatch back my magazine. “Gimme that.”
“After you answer two questions. First, are you married, engaged or currently involved with someone? And if the answer is no, will you go out on a date with me so I can prove that I’m not annoying?”
I laughed. “I actually believed you couldn’t get more annoying, but I was wrong.”
“Are you single?”
“Annoying and tenacious—there’s a winning combo,” I retorted.
“And she hedges yet again. Fine. Don’t answer. I’ll just read this fascinating article that’s got you so engrossed you can’t even answer a simple question.”
“Gimme back my magazine.”
He lifted a brow. “I doubt it’s your magazine. I’ll bet you took it from the stack over there that’s for customers to share.”
“Fine. Keep it.”
“Let’s start over.” He tossed the magazine aside and offered his hand. “I’m Jaxson. What’s your name, beautiful?”
Calling me beautiful threw me off. I automatically answered, “Lucy,” and took his hand.
“Lucy. Lovely name. Please put me out of my misery, Lovely Lucy, and tell me that you’re single.”
“I’m single b
ut I’m not interested in flirting with you because you’re bored at the car wash and I’m convenient.”
He flashed me a grin that might’ve made me weak kneed had I been standing. “I’m far from bored. Let me prove it by taking you out for dinner. I promise I’ll be on my least-annoying behavior.”
That’s when I realized he still held my hand. That’s also when I realized I was a sucker for his tenacious charm, because I said, “Okay. But if that cell phone comes out even one time I will snatch it from you and grind it under my boot heel as I’m walking away.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
I tugged my hand free before he did something else completely charming like kiss my knuckles. “Are you single?”
“Yes, ma’am. And this is the first time I’ve asked a woman I met at a car wash for a date.”
“This is the first time I’ve agreed to a date with a man I find a—”
“Attractive?” he inserted. “Amusing? Feel free to use any A-word except the one you’ve repeatedly overused.”
“Calling you an asshole is an acceptable A-word?”
“Damn. Opened myself up for that one, didn’t I?”
“Yes, in your arrogance.”
Another laugh. “I’m definitely not bored with you. Now where am I taking you for our dinner date?”
I smirked. “Pizza Lucé.”
“Hilarious, Luce.”
“I’m serious. That’s where I want to go.”
“For real?”
“Why does that surprise you?”
“I figured you’d pick someplace more upscale.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m the pizza and beer type.”
He leaned in. “I’d ask if this was a setup, with you being a sharp-tongued brunette with those big brown Bambi eyes, because you’re exactly my type. But I stopped here on a whim, so I know my friends and family aren’t fucking with me.”
“Mr. Jaxson, your vehicle is ready,” a voice announced via the loudspeaker.
I cocked my head. “You refer to yourself by your last name?”
He shook his head. “Long story that I’ll explain over pizza and beer.”
“Miz Q, your vehicle is ready,” echoed from the loudspeaker.
Jaxson—Mr. Jaxson—whatever his name was—winked. “Lucy Q? What’s the Q stand for?”
“Nothing.”
We stood simultaneously.
“Come on. Tell me,” he urged.
“Maybe, as a single woman in a public venue, I didn’t use my real name or initial as a safety precaution.”
That declaration—a total lie—was worth it to see his smugness vanish.
Outside, the attendants stood by our cars.
No surprise that Mr. Annoying and Tenacious drove a Porsche.
But my eyes were on how spiffy my beloved blue Corolla looked. I smiled at the attendant and slipped him five bucks. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
I looked across the roof of my car to see my date staring at me. “I’d say the last one to arrive at Pizza Lucé has to buy the first round, but my Toyota is at a disadvantage in comparison to that beast.”
“I planned on following you, in case you decided to make a detour.”
“Worried that I might come to my senses and change my mind about this bizarre date?”
“Yep.” He grinned at me. “Lead the way, Lucy Q. I’ll be right behind you.”
About the Author
Lorelei James is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Need You series, the Blacktop Cowboys series, and the Mastered series. Her books have won the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award as well as the CAPA Award.
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