Read Charmed (Contemporary Romance) Online
Authors: Ines Saint
Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Adult, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Previously Published, #Widowed Mother, #Twins, #Five-Year-Olds, #Goldsmith, #Designer Charms, #Success, #Painful Secret, #Late Husband, #Cheating, #Infidelity, #Death, #Funeral, #Headmaster, #Private Elementary, #School, #Doctorate, #School Board, #Community, #Semester, #World Travel, #Heart Trust, #Starting Over, #Raising Children, #Nurture Attraction
Jamie laughed, and her hand automatically went up to fiddle with the charm on her necklace, which made him wonder if she was nervous. “Can I see that up close?” Nick asked, pointing to the charm.
She pulled the charm away from her neck and leaned over so he could see it up close. It was the charm she’d made from the leaf he’d gotten for her that very first day. The chain wasn’t very long, and Nick had to move closer. It took an incredible amount of concentration to keep his eyes away from her lips and the delicate curve between her jaw and neck. A small part of him knew that coming in and sharing a meal, no matter how strange the meal was, had been a mistake. Jamie was like her spiked pancakes — sweet and buzz-inducing.
“You’re talented,” Nick remarked. “I don’t know much about jewelry, but the details you were talking about that day, and this curve right here … “ His thumb was tracing the curve, and it accidentally brushed her skin. He immediately let go of the charm, afraid she’d think he’d done it on purpose, and afraid he’d want to do it again. “I can see why you climbed the tree to get to it, Jamie. It’s special.”
• • •
Relieved Nick had let go, Jamie leaned back. She was having difficulty breathing. “I had the idea while daydreaming in front of your school,” she said. He smiled at her, and Jamie thought his smile must’ve become attached to her heartstrings that night. Every time the corners of his mouth moved up, her heart squeezed. Was this part of the havoc?
“Don’t you mean you had the idea while brainstorming? I can’t imagine daydreaming leading to anything productive.”
“Brainstorming can be stressful. Daydreaming is therapeutic and therefore very productive. Don’t you ever daydream?”
“No, I’m always thinking ahead, always with specific plans. I can’t just sit there and let my mind wonder aimlessly.”
“You never once stared into space and imagined yourself playing for the Bruins while a supermodel cheered for you in the stands?”
“Oh, I wanted to play for the Bruins, all right, but I thought of everything I had to do in order to get there and tried hard to do it. I didn’t just lie in bed, stare at the ceiling, and imagine it. And I’ve never been into supermodels.” The corners of his mouth went up again, and the tug at her heart was almost too much to bear. Enjoy it, she told herself.
But she quickly got up and gathered the dishes. “Well you should’ve lain down for a few minutes and visualized the crowd cheering while you hoisted The Stanley Cup. You might’ve been more motivated.”
Nick laughed and pushed his chair back, too. He looked at her a moment longer before pointing to her UMass sweatshirt. “Is that where you went to school?”
She nodded.
“What did you major in?”
“Metals.”
“You can major in that?”
Jamie sighed. “Spoken like a true academic.”
“No, I think it’s great, I just … didn’t know. I love it when people find a career that makes them happy.”
“Would you like to see my workshop?” She loved sharing her passion.
Nick shrugged as if to say, sure, why not? And she motioned for him to follow her outside. He followed her into her old shed-turned-workshop and looked around before picking up one her jewelry boxes. “‘
Seasons
, by Jamie Viera,’” he read aloud. “You use your maiden name?” He seemed surprised. Jamie nodded and avoided his curious gaze. She would’ve changed her last name back legally, too, but thought it was best to share her kids’ last name for now.
She brought out a larger, velvet-lined box, opened it, and gave it to Nick for inspection. He took out a little gold boot and turned it around in his hand. It was etched on one corner to simulate a scratch, and the sole was coming off.
“That was one of the first charms I designed. I wanted to capture what childhood is supposed to be like — carefree, everyday an adventure.” She took out a charm of a pretty, but scruffy, unbuckled Mary Jane shoe in gold and handed it to him as well. She then fished around and brought out a silver heart with a peculiar shape.
“Falling in love?” Nick guessed, knowing his heart had never looked that way.
“My version of it — the way it gets your heart all bent and twisted out of shape.” She paused. “And this is the first charm I made from the beech tree leaf.” She picked up a charm identical to the one she was wearing. “The stem came out wrong. I didn’t carve deep enough into the wax mold, so I had to start all over again.”
“What does the leaf stand for?”
“Wisdom-and it’s the first charm for
Seasons
. I’m designing charms that are related to the changing seasons and metaphorical with the stages we go through in life.”
“And what do you do with the ones that come out wrong?”
“Sometimes I melt the gold to use again. And sometimes I keep them. I like little imperfections.” She absentmindedly glanced at the scar above his eyebrow.
Nick seemed thoughtful as he twirled the charm around in his fingers. He looked around. “And this is your workbench?”
“It’s a jeweler’s bench. I designed it, and Justin built it. Justin and I actually re-outfitted the whole shed. I made the shelves, and he put the ventilation system in.”
Nick touched a small torch. “That’s an acetylene torch. It’s for melting gold … ” Jamie paused. “Do you want to melt some gold? It’s fun.” She twirled the torch and tried to engage him.
“Why not?” Nick smiled.
“Sit here and wear these,” Jamie instructed as she led Nick to her bench and gave him a pair of welder’s goggles. She opened a drawer and brought out some scrap gold material before reaching around him to take his hand and show him exactly what to do. In that instant, she realized the whole thing was a bad idea.
She’d done the same thing countless times with other people, but this was different. With Nick, this was too close for her peace of mind. She took in the deep, masculine scent of his aftershave and found it unnerved her. And she couldn’t take in a nice, deep, and steadying breath without him noticing.
Damn pheromones.
She stood behind him, leaning over and reaching around his neck to move the torch and hold the crucible tongs properly. His hair tickled her cheek, and she noticed how it curled at the collar. Only years of experience enabled her to keep her hands steady as she held the tongs with one hand, and his hand with the torch with the other. She had no choice but to lean in even closer as she guided his hand over the torch and had a hell of a time concentrating. Nick had gone very still, and she wondered if he was bored.
• • •
Nick willed Jamie to move away from him. Another second and he would turn around, pull her on his lap, and kiss her soundly. If there had ever been a test of his self-control as an adult, this was it. He could feel her hot breath on his neck. She was so close that he could almost taste the sweet and sensuous notes that drifted from her. He told himself not to move, not to turn around.
Maybe Jamie could sense his thoughts because she let go of his hand, turned the torch off, and moved away. “See, wasn’t that fun?” she asked, and Nick thought he detected anxiety in her voice.
He stood up to face her. Her face was definitely flushed. Was it the heat from the torch? Even her lips seemed redder. He had to clench his hand into a fist by his side to stop himself from brushing his thumb over them.
“Mommy! The monster under my bed is back! I can hear him moving under there! Mooom!” Nick couldn’t tell if it was Timmy or Michael calling for Jamie, but the voice was loud … and getting closer. Jamie nearly toppled Nick, shoving him to the side so he couldn’t be seen from the sliding doors before quickly walking out.
He released the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.
“There’s a monster under your bed? Well, let’s go check him out,” she said moments later.
“But it’s not afraid of you, Mommy, it always comes back. I can hear him breathing. Daddy used to drive him away, but he’s not afraid of you. You don’t have a good growl,” he heard Timmy say as their voices drifted away.
The word
Daddy
seemed to fill the air most, reminding Nick he was out of place. He walked outside and went around the house to the front, and waited for Jamie to bring his tools out.
• • •
Jamie patted Timmy’s head and sang softly in his ear until he fell back to sleep. As she made her way through the living room, she caught sight of Nick waiting outside. His tools were by the door, and she lugged them out.
The moment he took his tools from her and turned to leave, she was struck with a horrifying thought. “If Timmy would’ve seen you, he would’ve asked
you
to scare the monsters away.”
“I wouldn’t mind scaring them away.” He frowned the moment the words left his mouth, as if he realized that would’ve been a mistake.
“Really? You wouldn’t mind Timmy telling the drooling moms that hang around you at school that you were here
at night
, checking for monsters under his bed?” Jamie challenged him.
“Did you just say drooling moms?” Nick raised an eyebrow. The frown was gone, replaced by a wide grin.
“No … I said …
ruling
moms. You know, moms who
rule
, woohoo!” Jamie pumped a fist into the air for effect.
Nick crossed his arms and shook his head. “Okay, then. I’ll see you on Monday, along with the rest of the ruling moms.”
“I am
not
a ruling mom,” she clarified. Jamie sat on her porch swing, wrapped her arms around her chest, and watched Nick take two steps, enjoying his backside and smooth, confident stride. But Nick turned and frowned again. “Aren’t you going inside? It’s brisk out here, and it looks like you’ve worn that sweater a few hundred times.”
“You’re beginning to sound like Justin. And Moe. That’s exactly what Moe said about my sweater today. It’s like all you hockey people think alike.”
“You know Moe?”
“I’m Justin Viera’s sister — of course I know Moe. Justin got him to open his rink so I could teach the kids to ice skate today. Moe was returning a favor.”
“Moe opened the rink before hockey season? For Viera? He said he wasn’t getting the rink iced for another two weeks! Is he letting Viera’s team get some extra practice time in?”
Easygoing Nick was instantly worked up and appalled, and Jamie laughed in earnest. “Relax! It was only me, my dad, the kids, and old Moe. And I can’t give you any details about Justin’s team and their practice schedule. You know that would be high treason.” Nick eyed her suspiciously and Jamie laughed again; suddenly, she was the enemy’s sister. “Look, we’re going skating again next Saturday with Hannah. You can stop by and see it’ll be just us, if you like.”
“You know, Emma will be here, and she’d love to be able to skate early in the season. Maybe I’ll take you up on that. What time?”
“One o’clock,” Jamie replied, knowing he wouldn’t really take her up on it. She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged her arms around them, deciding to stay outside a while. The night air was crisp and invigorating.
“You know, you seem different today,” Nick observed.
“I feel different. I think it was the incident with Timmy at school. I was expecting a disaster, but you just handled it with the simple truth and it all went away. I think I’m learning to go with the flow again and to stop anticipating disasters.”
“Let’s just say I have experience defusing rumors and the many ways in which they get started. The other kids were alarmed because they were afraid Timmy and Michael were more special to their headmaster, that’s all. They just wanted to be reassured they’re all equal.”
Right
, Jamie thought,
they’re all equal
. She hadn’t thought of things that way, but Nick had wanted everyone to know that to him, they were all special. She could understand that. It was good for her boys to have been reminded of that, too, in Nick’s subtle way.
• • •
Nick looked down at the space beside Jamie, and she scooted over. He sat down, pointed to her shirt again, and said, “So tell me, Jamie, how does one major in metals?”
She looked up into his expectant eyes and explained exactly how one went about it. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her to ward off the cold, and Nick fought the impulse to pull her close and settle her head on his shoulder. The idea filled him in places he hadn’t known were empty. But he was a grown man, and in control of his impulses.
Underneath the soft glow of her yellow porch lamp light, he contented himself with getting caught up in the years since she’d treated him to ice cream at Mrs. Bird’s.
She loved talking about her family, and he enjoyed listening to her stories. They were a fun, vibrant bunch. And she wanted to know things about him others never bothered to ask, like why he’d chosen his career and how he’d managed college with a small child. And she couldn’t get enough of his hockey stories.
It was well past midnight when Jamie became too sleepy to speak coherently, and he reluctantly told her he had to leave.
He could’ve stayed all night.
On Friday, Jamie arrived at Cup a’ Joe’s with Charlene in tow. Mrs. Kirkpatrick and Alex had gotten there first, and there were four coffee mugs already set out for them. The scent of vanilla, coffee, and cinnamon enveloped her as soon as she arrived.
Jamie sat down and watched the steam rise out of the mugs, pleased Mrs. Kirkpatrick had remembered she liked vanilla lattes.
Alex was in front of her, wearing a huge smile. Before she could ask him why he looked so happy, he pointed to Charlene. “So, what’s up? I hear you’ve got some news.”
Charlene took a deep breath and pushed her coffee mug aside. “I’m pregnant,” she revealed before letting her breath out.
“Wow! Congratulations, that’s wonderful, Charlene.” Jamie smiled.
“I knew it,” Alex declared before gulping his coffee.
Jamie frowned and leaned toward him. “You’re not supposed to gulp coffee, you’re supposed to sip it,” she instructed and sipped her own in example. Something about Alex reminded her of Justin.
“How do you feel?” Mrs. Kirkpatrick squeezed Charlene’s hand.