Fate Intended (The Coulter Men Series Book 3) (6 page)

Sprouting a blush as red and warm as fire, she didn’t know what to say. She had never been told she was beautiful by a man, except her father.

Fortunately for her, the waiter arrived and she quickly turned her attention to ordering dinner. Concentrating on the menu was difficult. She could see Trip watching her over the top of his menu. Flipping the gold hoop in her ear, she couldn’t make a decision, so she closed the menu and looked to the waiter for help. “What would you suggest?”

“We have the best Asian salad with blackened chicken. The chef makes a peanut sauce that is amazing.”

“Is it very spicy?” Jane asked scrunching her nose.

“Just a hint.”

“Just a hint…hmm…okay.” She handed him the menu. “I will take your words on it.”

He took the menu. “Trust me. You’ll love it.” The waiter leaned closer and whispered, “I’m honestly jealous I won’t be joining you for dinner.”

Jane smiled up at him, then looked across the table at a scowling Trip. The waiter cleared his throat. Jane noticed he had sweat on his brow. She didn’t think it was present a moment ago.

“And, uh, how about you, sir?”

“I’ll have what the lady is having. Add a bottle of Chenin Blanc?”

“Excellent choice. You know your wine, sir.” The waiter gave a slight bow, grabbed the menus and scooted.

As the waiter backed away, Trip mumbled, “Suck up freaking flirt.”

“Pardon?” Jane asked.

“Nothing,” Trip said as he sat up straighter in his seat. “Just thinking out loud.”

“Oh. I don’t do that.” Jane thought of her wild imaginings and what people would say if they knew what she was thinking. Her laugh was soft, almost inaudible as she said, “Thankfully, or I’d always be in trouble.”

Trip’s brow shot up, but he never asked what thoughts were too bad to share because the hasty waiter returned, the bottle of wine open and breathing. He poured them each a glass, then exited with a small nod of his head.

Jane took a sip of hers and enjoyed the much needed relaxation it brought her. Leaning her body forward, she decided to reach for the moon. “So,” she asked absentmindedly tracing her finger across the base of her wine glass, “if you thought such good things, when you first saw me…why did you never speak to me?”

“I figured you were too young…and there was….”

Olivia. Crap. Jane didn’t want him thinking of her, not now. She quickly interrupted his sentence, “Forget I asked. Stupid question.” She needed a follow-up question. Fast. “So, your muscles? Work related or were you bored while you were away?” Hearing the question as it rolled off her lips made her cringe a little.

“A little of both. A certain degree of physical fitness goes with the job. I did it more than I needed, probably, as you said, out of boredom.” Trip straightened the utensils on his napkin until the bottoms of each one was in a perfect line. “Though I did have your emails. They were the highlight of my day. I wanted to write and ask you if you’d go out with me when I got home, but I could never work up the courage. Fortunately for me, you crippled yourself and gave me the perfect opportunity to feel like a hero and get up my nerve.”

“Courage? To ask out me?” Jane laughed. “I’m not scary.”

Trip shook his head in disagreement. “You are to me. I’ve spent my whole life as a techno geek. I have my mother to blame for setting me up with Olivia—she was my mother’s intern her first year in congress.” Trip frowned. “No, a guy like me doesn’t approach girls like you.”

“I think you are filling my head with that sugar talk again.”

“Not sugar talk. It’s all truth.”

“Really? Well then, Mr. Coulter, this may not be a wise thing to say, but….” Jane leaned across the table and whispered, “I’m not one to invite competition, but every lady in this place…and I think that man back in the corner…took notice of you.”

“You think?” Trip leaned back in his seat and scanned the room. “Well, let’s see…now that I have options….”

Jane kicked him under the table.

Trip laughed. “I’m content right here.” His grin was broad. “Though that guy…he looks like he’d be a big spender.”

Jane couldn’t help but giggle. “You are bad. A bad, bad man.” She took another sip of wine as she thought of something else to talk about. “So, what is this new job?”

Trip drained his glass and poured himself another. Rubbing a hand across his chin, he said with a shrug, “I sort of do security for people, mostly cyber stuff. I, you know, help people who have problems with, um, security.”

“So, you hunt down people who break into other people’s computers?”

He shrugged. “Something like that.”

Jane picked up her own glass, drained it, and poured herself another.

Chapter 7

Dinner finished, they strolled out of the restaurant and were greeted by an unseasonably warm winter evening. The lights of the city twinkled as buildings were slowly draped in Christmas trim, and the air smelled not of exhaust and concrete, but of crisp air and freshly cut pine.

“It’s so nice tonight.” Jane paused on the sidewalk. “Eddie says it’s not usually this warm in December?”

“No, usually below freezing by now, but the cold will get here. Real soon.”

“Simply perfect.” Breathing deeply, she asked, “Walk with me?”

“What about your foot?”

She shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“If you’re sure….”

Jane didn’t answer. Instead, she gave his arm a tug and off they went.

Without thinking or contriving, she wrapped her hand around the crook of his arm. It wasn’t until after she did it that she questioned her action. Her apprehension was short-lived when he smiled at her, giving her hand a squeeze and allowing his fingers to linger on hers.

Strolling along together, they shared stories, and before she realized it, they had gone several blocks and were standing within a hundred feet of the iron fence of the White House. Car traffic slowed as the night wore on and the foot traffic was sparse compared to the bustle of the day. The park across the street was nearly empty, so they had no trouble finding a bench to settle on. It faced the glow of the white-columned edifice of freedom.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Trip asked.

“It’s beautiful. You know it was first called the Presidential Palace? I like White House much better. I don’t know why, but I don’t like palace.”

“Too regal for a nation of mutts?”

“Mutts?” Jane laughed.

“Yeah, I’m English with a bit of Irish and German…a mutt. A mixed breed.”

“I’m a mutt, too. English and Russian.”

“See?” He gave her hand a pat. “Now you’re in America—where mutts belong.”

Jane laid her head against his arm. “You ever wonder what’s going on in there…right now?”

“Every time I go by the place, I wonder that. Imagine the decisions, the power…while out here, life just goes on. Ordinary people with ordinary lives. It’s like two different worlds.”

“Yes, out here it is just ordinary people’s secrets, lies, and mischief. Inside, there is the chaos of extraordinary secrets, lies, and mischief,” she said with a grin.

“Am I seeing a jaded side to you, sweet Jane?” Trip teased.

“No,” Jane laughed. “I’m just saying everyone hides something.” Jane lifted her head from his shoulder so she could look him in the eyes. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Trip shrugged and gave a half nod as he looked down at her. The street lights lit her face but left shadows. It made her look mysterious. He whispered, “Can’t imagine you having anything to hide.”

“Everyone has something,” Jane answered.

“So, what are your secrets?”

“They wouldn’t be secrets if I told.” Besides, Sasha would have her hide if she shared.

Trip grinned and tweaked her nose. “One day, little lady, I will know everything about you.”

Jane swallowed hard. She started this conversation, like a fool. Why couldn’t she think straight with him near? Laughing to lighten her words, she added, “Pretty confident for a guy who was afraid to speak with me.”

“Touché, Jane, touché.” Trip’s laugh broke the still of the night. “So, take pity on me. Tell me one—just one—secret about yourself. Something no one else knows.”

Jane considered the request with narrowed eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

“Come on,” Trip teased, lowering his nose till his nearly touched hers. “Just one.”

“Like what?”

“Like anything.”

Jane’s head began to spin. She was suddenly certain the CIA or Mi6 didn’t have as effective interrogation strategies as Trip Coulter. Scooting away from him on the bench, she fanned herself and said with a sigh, “You’re too close for me to think straight.”

“Why’s that?” In a single motion, he closed the gap she put between them. His leg pressed close enough to hers that she could feel the heat and solidness of his thigh.

“It’s because….” Jane began, but then stopped, mesmerized by the feel of him, the feel of his breath warm against her cheek as he dipped his head toward hers. She closed her eyes, and her heart squeezed in her chest. He was so close. Without thinking any further, she heard her breathless self say, “One secret I have is how long I have dreamed of this moment.”

His fingers traced the sensitive skin along her chin. “Of a starry night alone in a park with a man?”

Jane giggled. “No, not just any man…just one.”

His fingers remained on her flesh. Her throat went dry. She managed to admit, “No one knew I was dying with envy. That woman had you, and I hated her for it. The day you two fought I wanted to yell, ‘I’m the one you should be with!’” Jane’s laugh sounded nervous and tinny, even to her own ears. She rubbed her hands down the top of her pants. “What kind of fool would you have thought I was if I said that?”

“If you’d just screamed that? Out of the blue?”

“No warning. Just grabbed you by the hand that day and yelled it.”

“Oh, well, I’d have been shocked.” He whispered in a hoarse voice, lowering his forehead until it rested gently against hers. “But I’d have thought you were the bravest, most beautiful, most perfect crazy lady around. And I would have tripped over my own tongue because I already had the biggest, hugest, got-to-ignore-the-feeling crushes on you.”

“Then why ignore me?”

Trip leaned back in the seat, but wrapped an arm across her shoulder as he answered. “First, I figured you were too young, no more than nineteen.”

“That’s not too young!”

“Um, yes it is. And I figured if, in the odd chance you were over twenty-one and old enough to date, then you probably had a boyfriend. I couldn’t imagine a girl like you not having a guy in the palm of your hand. And there was…”

Jane interrupted. “No boyfriend. I never had a boyfriend. Never had a man here.” She held out her hand and pointed to her palm. “You think I could fit one here…like my toy? Even a man like you?”

He took her hand and kissed the upturned palm. “Especially, a man like me.”

Jane stomach did a flip-flop. She thought of all the times she watched him and loved him. How certain she was that he was the man for her, that he would love her. She was right; he
was
created for her. Leaning in, she kissed him. Quick and sweet, just to prove to herself she could. That she had the right. As her lips brushed against his, she relished in her victory. He pulled her tight, his hand wrapped at the base of her neck, warm fingers sliding into her hair as his mouth pressed against hers, demanding more. She gripped his shoulders, holding on tight as her mind whirled and spun. He kissed her long and deep…cleansing her mind of everything, including Sasha’s warnings.

Chapter 8

Jane cleaned her block of apartments with a rejuvenated spirit. Her movements were quick and effortless as she hummed a merry tune while loading bag after bag of laundry onto her cart. Her good humor might have been the leftover glow of a magnificent week of perfect dates, or it might have been that she is finally sleeping at night. No bad dreams, no worry of bad dreams…just thoughts of Trip.

She shoved the cart off the elevator into the laundry room. She turned on her iPod, put in her ear buds, and cranked up the volume. She swiveled her hips to Pink, more certain than ever that she, too, was a rock star. The beat coursed through her ears to her veins. She moved down the row of washers with the grace of a belly dancer, closing the lids as she passed and setting the machines to wash. While she waited, she danced, hips gyrating, fingers snapping. She sang the words she knew; hummed the ones she didn’t.

It felt good to feel this good. She thought of her evening with Trip. Pure glee bubbled in her spirit, making her feel light and free, invulnerable to trouble or harm. She played their conversations over and over in her mind until she could hear his voice in her ear. Heard her name on his lips.

Jane.

It was so beautiful when he said it. It sounded so real.

She heard it again, only closer…then something grabbed her shoulder. She spun, yanking the ear buds from her ears, fists balled, ready to strike.

“Whoa, Jane.” He put his hands in the air. “I’m unarmed.”

“Trip.” She smiled, her shoulders relaxed and fists unclenched.

“I called your name, but you couldn’t hear me.”

She blushed. “How long were you there?”

“Long enough.”

“Long enough for what?”

“Long enough to know you could make a fool of me on the dance floor.”

She covered her mouth with her hand. “So embarrassing.”

“Why? You’re quite good.” He grabbed her and wrapped her in muscular arms. “Dance with me, Jane.”

“No.” She giggled, blushing several shades of red. A washer beeped and stopped. She backed away from him and headed to the slowing machine. “I have work to do.”

Trip was close behind her and stepped in and pulled clothes out of one of the washers from over her shoulder. She paused, a single pair of slacks dangling cold and wet in her hands. Work suddenly forgotten, she ogled his tan skin as it rippled and flexed as he pulled shirt after shirt out of the washer and dumped them in the rolling laundry basket.

Washer emptied, he took the pants from her and tossed them with the rest and asked, “So, other than dancing your way through your work, what have you got planned for today?”

“Aren’t you a funny guy.” She pulled the cart to a dryer and started shoving clothes in. She shook her head as she explained, “I have to dry these, then fold, and bag them, then return them to the owners.”

“So when we get that done…then what?”

“We?”

“I’ve got time off, so I thought I’d spend it with you. And if you’re working, then I’m helping.”

“You are?” She shut the dryer and leaned against it, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yep. Just tell me what I’m to do. And when we’re done…I was thinking…have you been outside today?”

“Not since 6:00 A.M. when Frosty went to do his, ah, business.”

“Well, it’s still beautiful outside. Skies are blue, sixty-three degrees. Perfect day for a picnic.”

She grinned at him. “That sounds fun.”

“Good. And,” he said, taking her hand and playing with her fingers, “I want to invite you to come with me to my brother’s. They want to meet you…see for themselves if you’re as good as I say.”

“When? I thought you said they lived…”

“Down south? Yes, they do. But, my oldest brother, Tres, he invited us to his house for the weekend, and if you’re coming, Craig says he’ll be up for sure. Says he has to…well, let’s just say…he’d like to meet you.”

“What? Why?” Jane nudged him with her shoulder.

Trip squeezed his eyes closed and rubbed his head with his free hand. “Craig hated Olivia….”

“I like him,” Jane said with a laugh.

“Yeah. He didn’t like her at all. And I was telling him about you and he is further convinced I have impaired judgment.”

“Oh.” Jane’s spirit hit the floor.

“It’s my fault. I never should have told him what I was thinking, about you being special.”

“Oh?” Jane’s spirits found their way back to the ceiling

“Well, you are. And yes, we’ve only been going out for a week, but I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than that. But Craig doesn’t get it.” Trip took her hand and held it. “But after he meets you, he will understand.”

“I don’t know. They don’t sound like they approve.”

“They just want to meet you. It’s either we go there, or I assure you, they will come here.”

“But an entire weekend? That would leave Sasha with all the work. I can’t do that.”

“I could hire someone. Aren’t there cleaning crews you can hire by the hour?”

Jane shook her head. “No…well, I’m sure there are, but not just anyone can clean. The people trust that their stuff is safe.” A blush heated her cheeks as she thought of her amateur hacking, but she shrugged the guilt away as she reminded herself that all was fair in the love war.

“Please? I’ll help you clean as much as you need. See?” He held up a pair of neatly folded track pants and said, “I do good work.”             

“I don’t know….”

“Yes, you do. You want to go with me.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t know how I can.”

“How about this? We leave Friday, after work, and I get you home Sunday night. You will only miss Saturday. That’s workable, right?”

“It is far, no?”

“I can make it work. Will you go with me?”

“I don’t….”

He put a finger over her lips. “No, no. Don’t say no. Say yes.” Moving closer, his lips hovered close to hers. “Yes is the only answer I’ll accept. A weekend, with me…at the beach. Tres lives on the Outer Banks. I think you’ll like it there. Besides, you can’t break my heart and say no.”

Jane chewed on her lower lip. Sasha was going to kill her, but— “I will think about it. Best I can say for now.”

He planted a kiss on her that made her heart skip a beat, and then he smiled as if he’d already won her agreement.

“You really shouldn’t have, Jane,” Trip argued as they walked out of McDonald’s and into the glorious December sunshine.

“Of course I should. You helped me finish my work. Me buying lunch is completely fair.”

“Well, thank you.”

She carried the paper bag with the burgers and fries. He carried the sodas. They settled on a park bench and ate as they watched the water sparkle off the duck pond. The brown grass and barren trees seemed so much less gray and ugly with the glitter of diamonds on the water.

“It is a nice day. Thank you for getting me out.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So….” He took a drink, then asked, “Why did you come to America?”

Jane thought a moment. She didn’t need to lie to answer this question. “It was Sasha’s idea. Her uncle needed someone to run the building.”

“Thank God for Sasha,” Trip said looking to the blue sky. He turned to Jane and said, “Never thought I’d find cause to say that.”

Jane giggled. “Sasha is more than a good friend. She’s family.”

“You got a lot of family?”

“No,” Jane said simply. “You?”

“Mmm, hmmm.” He swallowed his bite of food. “We used to be a small family, but then my brothers and my mother got married and wow, now there’s a bunch of us.”

“How many brothers?”

“Two. No sisters. I have my mother, and a new stepfather. I have two nieces and three nephews, and of course there’s Grams. Can’t forget the lady who practically raised me.”

“You weren’t raised by your mum?”

“Well, she was there, technically. But when my dad died she had to go to work and was always busy. Grams moved in and took care of me. My brothers were teenagers and out doing their own thing…getting in trouble…making my mother miserable…but that’s a whole different story.”

“I’m sorry about your poppa.”

“It’s funny. My brothers,” he said as he looked at Jane and smiled, “they remember life with my dad. I know he died of a heart attack when I was eight. I remember the funeral, sort of. But the times I spent with him? I don’t really remember much. I just remember we were happy. So weird. I can’t recall details, just the feeling.” He looked at Jane and sighed, taking a slow bite of his burger before he continued. “My brothers remember the family being rowdy and close. I remember a family of bitter adults and fights between my mom and my brothers. This whole new big family, this new crazy group with all these little kids? I have to admit…it’s pretty freakin’ great. I feel like everything is finally falling into place.”

She leaned over and brushed a kiss across his cheek. “It is sweet that you have big family. I also had a poppa that I loved. He was the only family I was really close to.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jane shook her head. “It’s fine…he was enough.”

“Is he still in Russia?”

“He is,” Jane said and looked to the pond oasis, “gone.”

“I’m sorry.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple.

“Thank you. I’m doing fine. Poppa taught me to be strong. And I am strong.” Jane tossed some fries to a duck waddling past. He honked for more, so she threw him another. She turned to Trip and shrugged. “But you already know…. You lost your poppa, too.”

“But I was too young to know what I lost.”

Tilting her head as the memories of her father played through her head, Jane admitted, “I wouldn’t give up a single memory of him, even it if it eased the pain of losing him.” She turned to Trip. “No, I am the lucky one.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re a special lady, Jane Mitchell.”

She beamed. “I think the same of you. Though, not that I think you are a woman, but that you are a special person.”

Trip chuckled. “Good thing. I’d sure hate to be in this alone.”

The duck honked again. Trip threw his fries as far as his aim could reach. “Dang. You think he’s on Sasha’s payroll?”

Jane laughed. The duck waddled off, but she knew he’d be back. “No, I created that nuisance.”

“Well, I was trying to create a moment. One where you feel the magic they talk about in books and you come under my spell and do as I ask.”

“A spell?” She made big eyes at him. “Sounds serious.”

“It is. I really want you to come with me…to meet my family.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to….”

“Please? I swear, it won’t kill you.”