Beautiful Ties (6 page)

Jason and Gail exchanged polite good-byes before she happily bounced over to the door, leaving Jason and me standing there, staring at one another.

“Did she just do what I think she did?” Jason asked with an amused expression.

“You mean, intentionally leave the two of us here together?” I questioned humorously. “Yep.” I let out a deep breath.

The corner of his mouth lifted in the most handsome way. “Is that a bad thing?”

With your good looks? Yes!
“No. I’d be happy to help you decorate if you’d like some assistance,” I offered kindly.

His grin broke free. “I’d greatly appreciate a second opinion. Thank you.”

“So, what are your favorites—landscapes, portraits, or random art?” I asked, not knowing a thing about him besides that he was gorgeous.

“Hmm…” He pondered, lifting his hand to stroke his thumb and forefinger across his jaw, as he studied a few of the paintings in front of us. “I like variety, but the ones that catch my attention the most are usually the utmost unique.”

“Okay,” I murmured while the two of us started walking along the wall.

My eyes made their way across each painting by different artists while trying to ignore the dance between us. I took one step, and he took one step. We were in perfect sync, like a magnetic pull was humming between us, never allowing the other to get far away. I pushed away the random observation and continued gazing at the art in front of me.

Suddenly, my attention caught on a large canvas of a bald eagle. This one was not a typical portrait. It was vibrant, even with only using blacks, grays, and whites throughout. It had bold, precise strokes running down the expansion and all the way to the tip of each wing. The background was filled with the brightest blue sky imaginable, drawing all of the attention to the beautiful dark eagle in the center. The bird’s wingspan was completely spread open as if representing that he was free to roam the open skies and terrain beneath him with nothing holding him back. I was not normally much of a bird person, but this image captivated me. It was stunning and elegant, and it mesmerized me with its representation.

“What about this one?” I whispered while still taking in every fine detail.

Jason stepped closer to me, his eyes taking their fill of the painting. He nodded as though it was pulling him in, too. I tried to ignore his nearness and keep my thoughts strictly on the painting in front of me.

“It’s a fascinating picture,” he said in a low tone, lowering his gaze to the artist’s name. “Derek L. Brown. I’ve never heard of him, but his talent speaks for itself.”

“It does,” I said as I tilted my head at him. “Do you like birds?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I actually have a Harley,” he replied with a smile, “so a bald eagle would fit my style to a T.”

I smiled sincerely at this new information. It was such a small fact about him, but I was intrigued to know more. “A Harley?” I questioned with curiosity.

A motorcycle did actually fit his persona. I instantly wondered what he would look like in leather chaps, biker boots, and a bandana.

Jason grinned, and my eyes dropped to his mouth and those full lips. Suddenly, my own lips felt dry.

“Yep, I have owned one since I was eighteen.”

“What kind of bike do you own?” I asked, feeling the desire to learn as much as I could about him.

“A Super Glide,” he responded.

His eyes shimmered with a hint of that bad-boy quality I’d seen last night. I loved bad boys, but this one was still off-limits. My inner goddess frowned at the thought. She was still completely in denial.

“I’ll have to take you for a ride sometime,” he said in a quiet tone.

My mind struggled for a reply, going back and forth between appropriate responses, like tug of war.
Riding on the back of a friend’s bike is harmless, right?

I nodded. “I’d like that,” I breathed before I could force myself to say no. I felt my cheeks heat from my admission.

Jason smiled. He truly smiled, his eyes brightening to match his expression. It nearly knocked the wind out of me while sending my heart into a tailspin. This man was turning my insides into a bundle of nerves. Resisting his charms would surely be the end of me. I needed a distraction from the look in his eyes.

I cleared my throat in the most ladylike fashion I could at the moment. “So, should we look at more paintings?” I asked in a friendly tone.

“Yes,” he replied.

I instantly felt like he was letting me off the hook.

He pointed to the bald eagle in front of us. “And I’m definitely taking that one.”

We continued to look around the gallery for the next two hours. It seemed like time stood still while I was in his company. He was so easy to be around, and I found myself opening up to him in ways that I had not been able to do with other men in the past. He just had this unexplainable ability to peel back all of my guarded layers with his natural grace. It was humbling and terrifying at the same time.

Our similar taste in art made the conversations flow between us. Other than Gail, I had never really met anyone who shared my appreciation for art. As much as I valued my time with Gail, it was refreshing to see someone else’s insightful taste and views.

Jason left with five paintings. Two were ones that I had picked out—the bald eagle and another of Niagara Falls. The other three were ones he had chosen, but I had really loved them, too. As we were leaving, Jason asked me to join him for a cup of coffee at a nearby Starbucks. As tempting as it was, I politely declined. I needed a few hours to breathe and emotionally detach myself from him. I wanted to keep distance between us even though a part of me greatly protested that idea.

We both decided to meet at the office at seven in the morning, so we could go over our plans for the day.

As I climbed into bed that night, all thoughts were on Jason, and I could not help but feel a rush of excitement at seeing him tomorrow.

Monday morning, my doorbell rang, pulling me out of a deep slumber. I rolled over and grabbed my cell phone off the nightstand. I brought it right in front of my eyes, so I could read the display without my contacts. I blinked at the time to make sure I was reading it correctly.

It was seven o’clock on the dot.

Seven!

I was usually already awake before seven to start my day. I jumped out of bed, realizing I must have forgotten to set my alarm the night before. I blamed my mishap on Jason since he’d distracted my thoughts.

The doorbell chimed again. I bent forward, squinting, while running my hand across the nightstand. I was blind as a bat, so I would never make it to the door without my glasses. After locating them, I put my glasses on, and I ran for the front door of my condo, wondering who could possibly be knocking this early in the morning. I opened the door, only to come to a halt.

Jason was standing on the other side, holding two cups of coffee from Starbucks. He was dressed in a plain white T-shirt with his spectacular biceps stretching the sleeves, cargo pants with a construction belt slung low on his hips, and classic CAT work boots.

Holy hell.

His eyes assessed my wardrobe, and a grin spread across his features. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I take it you overslept?” he asked, lifting his brow. His lip twitched adorably in amusement. “Do you always make a habit of being late for work?” he added teasingly.

“Jason, what are you doing here?” I questioned in surprise, ignoring the urge to take a second glance at his muscular arms.

“I thought I’d swing by and pick you up since we’re going to the same place and all. I would have been here sooner, but you would not believe how long the line was this morning at Starbucks.” He shrugged and offered me one of the cups. “Kyle warned me not to forget your morning coffee. He said you would be a handful without it,” he continued, stifling his laughter.

“Oh,” I replied, still feeling stunned that he was standing in my doorway. “Thank you.”

I reached for the warm cup, inhaling the sweet smell of morning coffee. I glanced back up at Jason to observe the way his eyes were taking in my condo. He looked intrigued.

“You do have a love for art,” he said in awe.

I turned my head to see what he was gazing at. My living room was the most decorated room in the house. It was painted a plum purple to contrast my white furniture, and each wall was filled with canvas after canvas of many sizes and artists.

“Yes, it’s my weakness,” I admitted shyly.

This room was my favorite in the condo. It had taken me forever to decide on some of those paintings, wanting them all to blend together nicely. The end result had turned out better than I ever could have envisioned.

Jason chortled and then took a sip of his coffee. Him being in my home made it feel extremely small. It was only then that I felt awfully embarrassed for standing there in my pajamas. I could only imagine what my morning hair looked like since I knew I was one of those people who tossed and turned all over the place.

My cheeks pinked with mortification. “Um…feel free to make yourself at home while I change. I’ll be right back,” I said before running off in the direction of my bedroom. I thought I heard him chuckle again, but I was already gone on my mission to change into something more appropriate.

In my small walk-in closet, I hurriedly changed into dress clothes—a pair of pinstriped black slacks, a lavender sleeveless dress shirt, and a three-quarter sleeved jacket. I flew into the bathroom, and my eyes widened in horror. I flipped on my flat iron, and I picked up my hairbrush to begin working out the bird nest that slightly resembled my hair. I shook my head, completely horrified that Jason had seen me like this. I had no idea how he’d managed not to stare at my wild morning hair. Once brushed, I applied some light mousse for damage control. I used my flat iron to subtly curl the ends of my brown hair, and then I pulled it back into a ponytail.

There.
I shrugged.
Well, it’s better.

I threw on some light cover-up, brushed my teeth, and traded my glasses for contacts before heading back out into the living room.

Jason was standing in front of my television, staring at all the pictures on the mantel, with a look in his eyes that I had not seen before. He lifted the black frame in the center.

His eyes now reflected affection. “This your family?” he asked.

I was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but he was being polite. “Yes,” I replied fondly, moving to stand next to him.

“You look just like your mom.” He smiled, glancing between the photograph and me. “And your brothers look like your dad. Who’s the oldest?” he asked, placing the picture back in its place.

“Ryan and then Kyle. I’m the youngest.” I shrugged, predicting a tease coming on.

He seemed to always have a playful side ready to pounce.

“Ah…” Jason snickered lightly. He turned his eyes on me, and they were damn near sparkling with mischief. “The baby of the family.”

I jokingly rolled my eyes at him. “I knew you were going to have something to say about that,” I said, shaking my head. “The oldest ones always do.”

He tilted his head back, releasing a good-hearted laugh. The rich masculine sound sent my insides warming.

“That’s because the youngest ones always get their way! And the eldest ones always have the most chores,” he countered, his voice laced with humor.

“Whatever.” I chortled. “Well, the oldest ones always get to do everything first, and the youngest ones have the tightest leash because their
older
siblings ruined things for them,” I disputed playfully.

Jason opened his mouth as if to make a feisty comeback, but then he stopped. “True. I’ll give you that one.” He chuckled, releasing a throaty sound.

The sound warmed my insides, and then I remembered he was standing in my living room.

“So, are you ready for a hard day’s work?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Of course,” he huffed playfully. “Born ready.”

“All right then, let’s go,” I replied as I walked to my kitchen counter to grab my purse and keys.

Jason paused at the door. “You don’t need your keys. I’m driving, remember?”