“Hi, Veronica. How are you?” I keep my tone polite, but hopefully not exactly inviting to conversation. It’s a fine balance of maintaining respect for my co-worker, and not opening the door to any more problems.
“I’m okay; in need of some…comfort. It’s okay for me to call you Jackson, right? Since we aren’t at work and all…” She bats her eyelashes at me, and I stifle a groan. Seriously, does she think this approach works? It’s way too blatant for me.
“I hope you’ve got some friends you’re meeting.” My mind is whirring, trying to figure out how the hell to get out of this, when someone calls her name from across the bar. Thank fuck. She frowns at them, and for an instant I’m worried she’ll ignore them. But she doesn’t.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, the words laced with an uncomfortable innuendo, and her hand squeezes my shoulder before she walks away. A small sigh of relief escapes me, and Mila hears it.
“I see she’s got her claws in you,” she says with a giggle. I arch my brow at her as I drink my beer.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“She’s relentless, just so you know. Nothing short of a two by four will get through her thick skull when she wants something.” Mila’s blunt assessment of how dogged Veronica seems to be about pursuing me makes me chuckle.
“I shouldn’t laugh. She’s my colleague. But it’s getting pretty awkward.”
“So you’re not interested in fake boobs and spider eye lashes?” Mila blinks her own eyes rapidly, and I can’t help but notice how pretty hers are.
“Definitely not. I prefer a more natural woman,” I reply honestly. Something’s shifting between us, and I don’t think I’m ready for it. Before I can think about what I’m saying, I continue. “Besides, I have zero interest in dating right now. I’m here to get my career established, join Doctor Morton as partner, and then I’ll figure out the rest of my life.”
Mila lifts her own glass. “Amen to no time for dating. I’m way too focused on figuring out if I can expand the bakery. Besides, no man wants to put up with my insane hours.”
She takes a long drink of beer, and I wonder if there’s something behind her words. They sounded almost vulnerable. We’re both quiet for a minute, then Serena walks over with a pool cue.
“Come on you two, we need a second pair to play.”
Mila stands up, glass in hand, and looks down at me. “What do you say, winner buys the next round?”
I stand up as well and refill my glass before responding. In my head I debate whether I should tell her how many nights I spent playing pool in between studying for exams in university.
“You’re on.”
Chapter 5
Mila
Seeing Jackson at Hastings last week was a welcome surprise. The man that I initially thought was aloof and stuck up is gone, and the Jackson I’m getting to know now is funny, charming, and a really good pool player. I still smile when I remember how duped I was that night when he absolutely dominated our game. Don’t get me wrong, watching my friend Reid get taken down a notch was amazing; he’s been the winner more often than not, until last week, that is. But what I was totally unprepared for was how sexy Jackson looked, stretching out to line up his shot, his muscles straining against the confines of his shirt. Obviously, I can say he is an attractive guy, I drooled over his forearms the first day I saw him. But something was different seeing him in a casual environment. He was far too tempting, and I was damn glad my friends were around to stop me from doing anything stupid.
The Dogwood Cove Summer Solstice Festival came just a couple of days after our evening at Hastings, and I found myself searching the crowd for Jackson, wondering if he was enjoying the festival, but I didn’t see him there.
Early summer on the west coast of Canada is my absolute favourite time of year. It’s warming up, but isn’t yet super hot. The sun shines more often than not, and the days are getting long. The sunrise when I get to the bakery is spectacular almost every single morning, and there’s just something about late spring that makes me feel hopeful for the future.
With the longer days, I’m spending most of my limited spare time outside. When I pull up to the public beach one afternoon with Milo, my head is preoccupied with a conversation my brother and I had earlier this week. Ethan and I figured out that I can finally start the expansion into the space next to the bakery and open the café Mom and I had always planned. So all I can think about these days is what I want to add to the menu to include more lunch items — soups, quiches, sandwiches, that kind of thing. And last night, while I was sitting on my back porch watching Milo play, and drinking a local beer, I started thinking about pretzels. Soft pretzels would be easy to make; a good snack item to have on hand at the bakery and something that Summer could even sell at the resort when she opens later this summer.
I guess my friends are right that I’m a total workaholic, because all I can think about is the bakery. Even on my days off. In fact, I’m so wrapped up in pretzel dipping sauce ideas that I don’t notice anyone is at the beach until I hear my name. Milo starts to bark, and pull on his leash, and I look up only to trip over my own feet.
If I thought Jackson was attractive in a T-shirt and jeans, that’s nothing compared to what he looks like shirtless, wearing low slung board shorts and bare feet. His hair isn’t styled, and the breeze is making it blow around his face. He’s got a wide, relaxed grin on his face, and a paddle board at his feet.
“Are you following me, Miss Monroe?” His eyes are alight with friendly teasing.
“I don’t know about that, after all, you’re the one who comes into my bakery every morning. Maybe you’re following me.” I unclip Milo’s leash and he goes straight over to Jackson, who bends down to give him some affection.
“His leg doesn’t seem to be bothering him as much,” he comments, running his hands down Milo’s legs.
“Hey, you’re not on duty, Doctor Holt.”
He grins up at me, and my breath catches. Seeing him like this — happy, casual, and did I mention shirtless— is making my heartbeat go haywire.
“Can’t help it. Are you here so he can swim?”
