Forged in Stone (7 page)

“I finished my shopping faster than planned.” He walked over. “What are you getting?”

Brad turned to James. “Excuse me, who the hell are you?”

“I’m James. You must be Brad.” James said his name with distaste.

“Is this the friend who’s driving you home?” Brad continued to glare at James.

I groaned and turned back to the counter. “Ignore them. Please get us three coffees and biscotti.”

“Coming right up. Looks like you’ve been busy.” Louise winked.

“Not by choice.”

“Still good to be out there again. You’re too young to give up after one bad apple.”

“Dale was more than a bad apple.”

“Either way, glad to see you trying again.” She placed the three cups and three pieces of the handmade decadent biscotti down on the counter.

“Who’s Dale?” Both guys asked.

“No one.” I grabbed my coffee and biscotti.

I took a seat at a table in the corner. Brad sat down next to me and scowled at James. “If you’ll excuse us.”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your date.” He sat down at the table right next to us.

“You can’t be serious.” Brad looked at me instead of James. “How is this a date if we’re being chaperoned?”

“I told him to come at ten.”

Brad’s mouth fell open. “At ten? You thought we’d hang out for an hour?”

“We’ve already hung out for an hour. It’s fine.”

“But you didn’t know that. You didn’t know I’d show up early.”

“It doesn’t matter. You wanted to see me, and you’re seeing me.”

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed James smiling.

“You know what. Forget this.” Brad stood up. “We’ll have to reschedule, Ainsley.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” James immediately took Brad’s seat. “Wonderful to meet you.”

“Fuck off.” Brad scowled.

In a blur James was in Brad’s face. “Did you use profanity in front of her?”

“What do you care?” Brad glared.

“Apologize to her. Now.”

“No.”

James took Brad’s arm and pulled it behind his back. “Apologize to Ainsley, now.”

Brad grimaced. “I’m sorry. “

James released his arm, and Brad pushed him.

James barely moved, and he smiled. “Thanks.” He walked right back to the table.

Brad shook his head. “I’ll call you, Ainsley.” He skulked out of the coffee house.

“What’s his problem?” James sipped his coffee.

It took me a moment to process what had happened. Normally I’d have been outraged at a guy acting like that, but it was different with James. It was chivalrous somehow. “I shouldn’t have agreed to see him. Grace pushed me, but I should have said no.” A tiny bit of guilt set in. At one time it would have been a lot, but I was beyond caring now.

“Remember that next time.”

“There won’t be a next time. You don’t get treated that way twice and come back for more.”

“He’ll be back.”

“Just because he said it doesn’t mean he will.”

“He’ll be back. He’ll just be more careful to make sure he gets your undivided attention.”

“He’s not going to.”

“You don’t like him?” James sipped his coffee again.

I took a bite of my biscotti. “He’s too pushy. He reminds me of my ex.”

“Dale?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure there is a story there.”

I took a tentative sip of my coffee. It was still piping hot. “Isn’t there always a story?”

“Usually.”

James pushed his biscotti over to me.

“I have one.”

“You were eyeing mine.”

“I’m stressed.” Desserts were my weakness when I got stressed out. I tended to skip everything but the sweets.

“I know. That’s why we’re going for a drive.”

“How did the shopping go?”

“I have a phone.” He tapped his pocket. “And the refrigerator is stocked.”

“You went grocery shopping?” I put a hand on my chest.

“There was nothing there.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank me after you see what I bought.”

I
watched Ainsley carefully
. By the expression on her face she was deep in thought, but I had no idea what she was thinking about. Hopefully she was not annoyed by what I did to Brad. I refused to allow anyone to treat her that way. She deserved respect.

She locked eyes with me. “So how about it?”

“How about what?” I took another sip of the surprisingly good coffee. Usually I couldn’t find anything that came close to the coffee back home.

“That ride in the country? You weren’t teasing me, were you?”

“You haven’t seen teasing yet.”

She shivered, and I hoped it was from my words. The store wasn’t cold. Once again it was being pumped full of heat. “Then can we do it? It’s been a long day. I wouldn’t mind the distraction.”

“You’re an interesting girl.”

“Interesting is good, isn’t it?” She seemed nervous as she waited for my answer.

“It’s very good. I’m just trying to understand who you are.”

“Same here.”

“We’re in the same boat then. Both trying to unravel the mystery of the other.”

“Instead of worrying about the mystery, let’s drive.”

I stood up. “As you wish.”

“I know you’re going to get sick of me quickly.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s what happens. I always interest people up front, but then they quickly get bored and move on.”

“Is that what happened with Dale?”

She grimaced. “Don’t make tonight any worse by bringing him up again.”

“I will find out about him eventually.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“I gathered that much.”

“Where did you park?” She took a long sip from her coffee and then opened the lid. She gazed into the now empty cup.

“Right out front. Want more coffee for the road?”

“No. I was making sure I didn’t waste any.”

“Once again I’ll say, you are an interesting girl.”

“Trying not to waste makes me interesting?”

“Yes. In a good way of course.” I tossed my empty cup and headed for the door.

“Of course.”

I held open the door. “I hope you like fast.”

“I do. In cars at least.” She walked right over to my car and waited for me to unlock her door. She wrapped her arms around herself. Once again I was overcome with the desire to warm her.

I ignored the opening she had given me. Was there anything else she liked fast? I had accepted I was interested in the girl, and I had no plan to ruin my chances by rushing things. Charlotte and Liam had given me time and an excuse to be away. I refused to waste either. I waited for her to get in before closing her door and going around.

I got in and pulled out onto the street.

“Aren’t you going to buckle your seatbelt?” She eyed me warily.

“Oh, that.” I buckled. I had never liked the confines of a seatbelt, but I understood the purpose. I was not going to get into a debate over the issue.

“Once again I’m going to say it. You’re so weird.”

“As are you.”

“Why am I weird?” She crossed her arms.

“You asked me to take you for a drive out in the country.”

“That makes me weird?”

“It’s a Friday night. Don’t most girls have better things to do?”

“Please don’t. Don’t insult me again and make me regret spending time with you.”

“I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

“Then what do you call insinuating I have no life?”

“I wasn’t aiming for that. Let me rephrase that. Why would you prefer a drive over something else? Obviously you have plenty of male interest.”

“I don’t know if plenty is the right word.”

We had barely made it half a mile when we slowed to a creeping speed. We were stuck behind one of the many horse-drawn carriages tourists appeared to love. There was no room to go around it.

Ainsley laughed.

“You think this is funny?”

“What are the chances? I ask you to take me out for a fast ride, and we get stuck behind that.” She pointed to the carriage in front of us.

“I don’t mind the extra time with you.”

“But you’d still have time with me. Just time when we weren’t crawling.”

I laughed. “This gives me an excuse to keep you in my car longer.”

“You don’t need an excuse. I like this car.”

I smiled, but stayed silent. The carriage turned at the next intersection, and I continued toward the outskirts of the city. It would take a while, but I had filled the tank. I wanted some time to talk to her before I rolled down the windows and pushed the engine so hard we wouldn’t be able to hear each other talk. I assumed she knew what fast meant in an Aston Martin.

“You had two men vying for you this evening.”

“You’re including yourself in that?”

“Was there a third man I missed?”

She laughed. “No. I didn’t know you were vying for me.”

“You think I would take just any girl on a secluded evening drive?” I teased.

“When you put it that way, I feel stupid for asking.”

“Why?”

“Because you make it sound dangerous.”

“You are not in danger.”

“And you saying that changes anything?” She turned her body slightly to look at me.

“If I was going to hurt you, wouldn’t I have done it last night? You stood before me in nothing more than a towel, yet I didn’t lay a hand on you.”

“That’s true.”

“I did let my eyes enjoy the view, but there is no crime in that, is there?”

“Not in the way you were doing it.” She looked down at her lap.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No.”

“Then why did you look down?”

“Out of habit.”

“It is your habit to look down when someone talks to you?”

She sighed. “No more talking. Let’s enjoy the drive.”

“This is not the fun part of the drive yet.”

“That doesn’t mean we need to annoy each other.”

“Talking doesn’t have to be annoying. It can be a pleasant way to pass the time.”

“Ok then, tell me about you.”

“Silence is nice.”

She laughed. “Exactly my point. No one enjoys having their every thought and action analyzed. Don’t dish it if you don’t want to take it.”

“Duly noted.” I wanted to know more, but I was not going to get it.

“James?”

“Yes?” I answered immediately. I was not the one who had wanted silence.

“Why did you stop talking the way you were talking?”

“I thought it made you uncomfortable.”

“It sounds like you are making an effort to sound different now.”

“Does it?” I smiled and continued driving until we were far enough away from the city that we had hit open highway. I lowered the windows. “You ready for this?”

“Of course I am.” For the first time all night she sounded excited. “But it’s kind of cold to have the windows down.”

“It is all part of the experience, and you might want to hold on.”

“I’m buckled.”

“Yes, but we’re going to go fast.” I turned off the headlights so we would draw less attention. I needed to avoid a ticket. I did not have a driver’s license, fake or real. I was in no mood to deal with the cops.

“I’m fine. I’m not one of those girls who needs someone getting overly protective with them.”

“Suit yourself.” As we continued down the deserted highway I slammed on the accelerator gradually raising our speed and quickly shifting gears until we were well over 100 miles per hour. The surrounding landscape passed in a blur.

I dared a glance over to the passenger seat; she was grinning as the wind blew her hair around her face. She really did enjoy the speed. I took us to 120 miles per hour. She was still grinning, but she was holding on to her seat. I decided not to call her out on it. She was back in a good mood, and I refused to ruin that.

I slowed down enough to make a tight turn to get us headed back toward the city. I sped back up for as long as I could, but I slowed down as we neared the city.

“Thanks.”

“What are you thanking me for exactly?” I was back to a normal speed.

“The adrenaline rush. I needed it.”

“We have that in common.”

“You need a surge of it once in a while?” She pulled one leg up under herself. I liked how comfortable she was getting in my car.

“More than once in a while.”

“In other words, you’re reckless.”

“Not completely reckless, just not into boredom.”

“What do you do to handle that, aside from driving a fast car?”

“Considering this car has been in the garage for years, it has not been easy.”

“I hate boring too, but it beats sad. I’ve dealt with sadness.”

“So have I.” My life had never been picture perfect. I had mostly my father to thank for that.

“I guess most people have.”

“They have. Although some like to pretend otherwise.”

“I hate those people. You know? The ones who like to pretend their life is perfect to make you feel bad about your own.”

“Do not hate them, pity them. They are the saddest ones. Either they are in denial, or they are too scared to admit the truth. Insecurities and all that.”

“That’s a different way to look at it.”

“It is the only way to view it. Hate should be reserved for those who truly deserve it. It’s stronger that way.”

“It sounds like you know that from experience.”

“I do.”

We drove the rest of the way back in silence. I pulled into the driveway and hopped out to unlock the garage. I pulled the car in. “Ready to see how well I did at the store?”

“You’re really proud of your grocery shopping skills, aren’t you?” She got out.

“Very. I am hoping you are proud of your cooking skills to help pay me back.”

She carefully closed the door. “Is that a sexist comment?”

“No, but I was the one that shopped.” I was only playing with her. I had no problem doing the cooking. I had lived enough of my life alone to know how.

“Fair enough.” She walked around to the front porch, and I followed. I had a key to the front door now, but I let her unlock it. She turned on a light in the foyer.

I locked the door behind us. “Home sweet home.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually staying here.”

“Stop pretending it’s a bad thing. You are excited about the company.”

“I am?” She took off her jacket and carefully hung it on a hook in the hallway. Once again her personality gave me whiplash. An adrenaline junky who carefully hung up her coat? She took off her boots and placed them neatly by the door.

I shook my head and smiled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I was not admitting to doing any more analysis of her personality. It wouldn’t go over well.

“Let’s go see how well you did.”

I took off my boots before following her into the kitchen. Clearly she believed in the ‘no shoes in the house’ rule.

Her eyes immediately went to the newly stocked wine rack.

“How did you know what I liked to drink?” She ran her hand over a bottle of Pinot Noir.

“I bought what I love.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She opened the fridge.

“I did not get everything, but at least it is not empty.”

“Not empty at all.” She turned toward me. “Are you showing this off so I pay you for half or because it’s all yours and I can’t touch it?”

“Neither. Consider it a peace offering for the way I barged in last night.”

“You mean the way you broke in?” She rested a hand on the counter top.

“Same thing.” I put my hands in the pockets of my jeans. I only wore these clothes when I was in Charleston. The comfortable cotton of Energo stood out.

“Do you have any more plans tonight?”

“I need to do some work for Charlotte, but nothing else. What about you?”

“I work a shift tomorrow, but that’s it.”

“You work a lot.” At least that is how it appeared to me.

“I do.” She leaned back against the counter. “It’s money, and it’s not like I have many better things to do.”

“What would you like to do with the rest of the evening?”

“It is already ten-thirty.”

“So? Is that late for you?”

“Not so late I need to go to bed, but late enough we can’t do much else.”

“Then how about we open a bottle of wine and sit out on the third floor porch? The one that faces the water.”

“Sit outside? It’s fifty degrees out.”

“I thought I saw a portable fireplace up there. Am I wrong?” I gestured toward the stairs.

“There is one. I’ve never used it though.”

“I can light that, and you can bring out a quilt if you would like.”

“You really like the outdoors, or fresh air, or something.”

“You don’t?” I doubted I would find myself attracted to that kind of girl.

“I do. I don’t love the cold though. I’ve got southern blood.”

“It’s all about what you are used to.”

“And I’m very used to warm weather, although sitting outside and listening to the water sounds nice. It’s soothing.”

“Perfect, and I bet a fire and a warm quilt will take care of the cold.”

“And wine. Red wine always warms me up.”

“See?” I grabbed the bottle of Pinot she had been eyeing. I opened a few cabinets until I found the wine glasses. “You will be fine.”

“The opener is in the drawer behind you.” She pointed.

“Thanks.” I dug it out of the drawer and made quick work opening the bottle.

“I’ll get the quilt.” She hurried upstairs.

“I will start on the fire.” I walked upstairs with the opened bottle of wine and two glasses. I went right out on the porch and set everything down so I could get to work on the fire. If I wanted Ainsley to enjoy herself, I was going to have to do a good job of keeping her warm. I did not mind that job at all.

“That was fast.” She walked out onto the porch wearing her third outfit of the evening. She was in some sort of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She carried a heavy quilt.

“Changing in my honor?”

She laughed. “Yeah, I usually try to impress guys by putting on sweats.”

“It is cute.” I hoped cute was still the right word. I had spent weeks learning the current terminology when I first came to Charleston, but it had been a long time since I had held a conversation where I actually cared if someone liked what I was saying.