Chapter 3

I dropped my head onto my desk. There was no way I was making dinner with Jamie. Wedding plans had been exploding all afternoon, and the end didn’t seem anywhere near. With calls in to three different vendors and answers I needed before the end of the evening or else, I was completely tied up. I called Jamie just after five thirty to explain.

“A call this close to date time is never good news,” he said after saying hello.

“I know! I’m so sorry. I’m still at work, and I’m totally swamped. I’ve been on the phone with linen suppliers all afternoon trying to find Wedgwood blue napkins because our linen supplier promised their Wedgwood blue to someone else, and all they have is navy, and the bride really doesn’t feel good about navy napkins. On top of that, April overbooked the inn this weekend, so we have to relocate three guests from the wedding party to another hotel, which I’m sure is going to make everyone so happy.”

“Sounds like you’ve had quite the day.”

“For a third day on the job, it hasn’t been too bad, but I don’t think I’m getting out of here anytime soon. April’s on her way to my office right now so we can sort out the room situation.”

“What if I bring dinner to you? I’ll come late. Eight o’clock?”

I considered his offer. I would need to eat. And by eight, we’d probably be close to finished anyway. “That sounds great. You’re sure you don’t mind? We can reschedule if that would be easier.”

“I don’t want to reschedule. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

My heart did a weird flutter thing, and I smiled. Bonus points for his killer confidence. “Okay. I’m at Winding Way Inn,” I told him. “I’ll text you the address.”

At 8:02, Jamie texted. I’m in the parking lot. Where to?

I was finishing a work call with a neighboring hotel, so I held up my phone, showing the text to April. She nodded her understanding. “I’ll go let him in,” she whispered.

A few minutes later, she led him into my office, just as I was hanging up the phone. She paused in the doorway long enough to give me an appraising nod and two thumbs up. “I’m going to head out now,”she said. “I think we’ve accomplished all we can for the night. I’ll check on Ida, but then I’m out.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

April smiled at Jamie. “It was nice to meet you.”

He nodded. “You too.” He turned his attention back to me.

I was nervous. Too nervous. It had been so long since I’d actually done any real dating. I felt completely out of practice.

“Quiet place,” he said.

“Unusually so right now. The inn’s been closed the past couple of weeks.”

“Really? What for?”

I filled him in on Thornton’s death and my less-than-conventional start to my new job. Terrible first-date material, but at least I wasn’t stuttering. Or drooling.

“And you had no idea until you got here?”

“Not at all. We open back up tomorrow. Hopefully things will settle into a normal routine soon. The past few days have been totally crazy.”

We stood in the middle of my office for several seconds just staring at each other. He looked good. Dark jeans. A navy-blue polo. Hair kind of on-purpose messy.

“You look really great, Lane.”

I liked the way he said my name. “Thank you. I feel a little worse for wear after my very long day, but I’ll take it.”

He held up the bags and motioned to the sitting area off to the side. “Should we eat over here?”

“Yeah, this is perfect.”

He unloaded the bags of food, handing me a water bottle, a napkin, and a set of chopsticks. Already, I started to feel a little more relaxed. Jamie had a very easy way about him, and it quickly spilled over to me. I settled into my chair. “So I’m going to warn you,” I said, pointing my chopsticks in his direction. “I’m somewhat of a sushi connoisseur. There was this place in Berkeley that was so fantastic. It’s turned me into a big-time snob because nothing is ever as good.”

He gave me a sideways glance. “You know I didn’t make the sushi, right? I just picked it up.”

“Yes, but you ordered it,” I said with a grin. “I’m just saying. I hope you chose wisely.”

“The pressure is on, then, huh?” He handed me a tray, and I pried off the lid. The roll was gorgeous. It looked like a shrimp tempura roll but fancier, topped with slivers of avocado and mango, dressed with tiny caviar and drizzled with shrimp sauce.

It took only a few bites for me to decide I was gloriously happy about my sushi. “This is amazing,” I said. “What is it?”

“I only know numbers,” Jamie said. “Four, eleven, and sixteen. Don’t ask me which is which though.” He took a bite of his sushi roll and grimaced. Like actually made an awful face.

I stared. “You don’t like sushi.”

He swallowed, then took a big gulp of water. “Sure I do. It’s fine.”

“Ha, yeah. I don’t believe you for a second. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I aim to please, Lane. You asked for sushi, and making you happy seemed a little more important than, um, having cooked food.”

“Oh!” I groaned in mock disapproval. “Your disdain for this perfectly perfect meal kills me. Here—try this one.” I offered him a piece of my shrimp tempura. “This one is all cooked. You might like it more.”

He eyed the caviar but didn’t complain as he took it and shoved it into his mouth. He raised an eyebrow while he chewed. “Okay,” he said. “It’s a little better.”

I added a sliver of pickled ginger to my next piece. Maybe he wasn’t impressed, but I was blown away. North Carolina did sushi right. “I have to go to this place in person. Seriously. You did good. This is really amazing.”

He nodded. “I’m glad you like it.”

I leaned back into the sofa. “So, soccer. Where’d you play?”

“University of Virginia.”

“Great school. What about your brothers? Any of them play collegiate?”

“Cooper might, maybe. After his mission. And Simon could have, but he tore is ACL his senior year of high school. That derailed his college plans.”

“That leaves Dave. He’s your twin, right? And he’s engaged?”

His eyebrows went up.

“Sorry. Chloe pretty much gave me the rundown on your family.”

He put down his food and leaned back. “Knowing Chloe, it included shoe sizes and favorite foods.”

“And childhood fears. Really, Jamie. Spiders? Not very original.”

“Anything with eight legs should never be trusted.” He grinned. “Dave went to Virginia with me. We were on the same team.”

“What? Brothers on the same team? That’s awesome.”

“Yeah. It was pretty fun.”

I leaned forward. “So here’s another thing Chloe told me. You”—I paused. For dramatic emphasis, of course—“don’t date.” I crossed my arms. “They call you untouchable. All of you. It’s a family description.”

He ran his hand across his jaw and sighed. “Yeah, we’ve heard that before.”

“Is it true? No one dates?”

“Fundamentally, there are problems with the assumption,” Jamie said. “Because Dave is engaged, and you can’t get that way without dating. And Simon has a girlfriend, which also happened through dating.”

“True,” I agreed. “But what about you?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but I can only imagine how surprised that would make Chloe. What made you change your policy?”

He dropped his chopsticks and took a drink of water. “Maybe I was waiting to meet the right person.”

I smiled. “And you’re sure that’s me, huh?”

“I’m sure I’m ready to find out.”

By then the nervousness I’d felt before dinner had vanished. This guy was into me. And he wasn’t afraid to say so. It was hard to keep my shoulders from doing a little victory dance.

“What about you?” he asked. “Why aren’t you hanging out with the singles group?”

It was only fair. I’d brought up his dating, but . . . ugh. “Do I really need a reason?”

“Try me. I’m guessing I’ll probably understand.”

“One too many root beer floats?”

He chuckled. “I think I follow, but that answer’s still a cop-out.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say. There was a huge singles group in California, and I guess after a little while, the whole scene made me tired. I’m not opposed to singles groups on principle. I realize there’s a reason to have them. I just wanted a break.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “And better than a really awful ex-boyfriend story.”

I laughed. “That sounded like a loaded comment. Have you heard one of those lately?”

He groaned. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Oh, come on. I love a good story.”

He hesitated before plowing into his story with a weird sort of fervor. “It’s this girl I used to know in college. She called me out of the blue last week, started texting all the time. It’s weird. We weren’t even really friends. But she’s been telling me all this garbage. She has a crazy ex story. Stalking, restraining orders, you name it.”

“Wow. Why’d she suddenly start texting you?”

“I’m not going to tell you. You’ll just laugh.”

I forced a serious expression. “I will not. Promise.”

He leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees, and looked up at me through his very long lashes. “She said after years of chasing the wrong kind of guy, she’s ready for someone with more traditional family values. Which is crazy. I didn’t even know her that well. I don’t know what she thinks she knows about my values.”

“Whatever. You’re Mormon. Does she need to know more than that?”

“It’s not like Dave and I spent our weekends preaching on street corners.”

“No, but you also didn’t spend your weekends getting drunk and acting like idiots. Women notice that sort of thing.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Don’t be so sure.”

“Ohhh, he has a past.”

He rolled his eyes at my teasing. “We probably fell somewhere between drunken idiot and preaching on the corner. It just feels like a weird reason to reach out to someone. ‘Hey, five years ago you seemed like a real family man. Want to hook up?’ Plus, I’m not encouraged by the restraining order.”

“Well, I promise I have no scary ex-boyfriends for you to worry about.”

“Any . . . not-so-scary ex-boyfriends?” he asked.

“Nice transition,” I said. “You handled that well.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Thank you. It took a lot to get to that one question, but here we are.”

Seriously. The guy was adorable. Confident but in a totally grounded way. That he wasn’t afraid to admit he’d been digging for information made me like him even more. “One boyfriend in high school. Nice guy. Catholic. Pretty sure he’s living in Asheville, working at some brewery downtown. I didn’t date much in college. Just played a lot of soccer. I had one boyfriend off and on through most of my junior year,” I continued. “I liked him, but he had this super traditional family and . . . I don’t know. They never said anything directly, but I got the feeling they were nervous about him dating someone who wasn’t white.”

Jamie stared. “That’s . . . I thought people were past that kind of nonsense.”

I shrugged. “A lot of people are. Others, not so much.”

He leaned back in his chair. “That’s messed up.”

“It is what it is, but I refuse to dwell on all the negative. It’s out there. And, yeah, things are better in a lot of ways, but it’s not going away anytime soon. The thing is, no matter how much it hurts, pain for pain won’t solve anything. Being strong is moving forward, right?”

“My Uncle Anton is black,” Jamie blurted. His face instantly flooded with color, like he realized how trite his words sounded halfway through saying them. “Sorry,” he continued. “I said that like I deserve brownie points for having a little diversity in my family. I only mentioned it because I remember when we were growing up that . . . stuff happened. Especially within the Church—people had a hard time. I was fifteen when he and my aunt got married, and I remember sitting in the kitchen listening to Mom and Aunt Julie talking about some of the stuff people said.”

“Most people just don’t get it. Not because they can’t but because they don’t have the experience. The hard part is that being called out on that makes people defensive, and then you can’t make any progress because people are too busy defending their own narrow viewpoint. It takes time. And a lot of talking. Confronting truth even when it’s ugly.”

“I like that. My mother used to always tell us as kids to see bigger. Take the blinders off, you know?”

“Yeah. It’s hard though.”

“I think your perspective is pretty amazing. I mean, you play it pretty cool considering how many reasons you have not to.”

I held up my hands, palms out. “It’s better than being angry all the time. When my mom moved to Utah from Puerto Rico to attend BYU, there were some who weren’t very open-minded. My abuela always told her, ‘When people underestimate you, smile, walk away, then blow them away with your brilliance.’”

He smiled. “That’s great advice.”

“Abuela is a smart lady.” I nestled deeper into the cushions of my chair. “So I guess that’s more history than you bargained for when you started rooting around for old boyfriends.”

“No, I’m glad it came up.”

I was glad it came up too. I appreciated guys willing to talk about it. “What about you? Any crazy girlfriend stories?”

“Not a one. I’m normal and boring. One serious girlfriend pre-mission. She was married before I got home. And I haven’t really gotten serious with anyone since.”

“Wow. That is boring.”

“Right? I think so too. What about the rest of your family? Does anyone live in Chapel Hill, still?”

I took another bite before answering. “My parents live in Asheville—that’s where I grew up. Mom is a psychiatrist, and Dad is the basketball coach at UNCA. Then there’s just me and my older brother, John.”

“Basketball. That’s awesome. Do you ever play?”

I shook my head. “One soccer game the summer I turned six, and I never gave another sport a chance. Dad tried. I’m tall, even. He claimed it was a waste of good height, but nothing else ever stuck. Dad loves sports in general though, so he didn’t mind too much.”

“Did he play basketball? Before he started coaching?”

I nodded. “College ball—for BYU. That’s where he met my mom and joined the Church.”

“For real?”

“For real. His best friend growing up was Mormon. They played ball together, so John convinced him to go to BYU with him. They had a decent basketball team, so Dad went for it.”

“And found more than he expected, I guess.”

“To say the least. A shiny new religion and a tiny Puerto Rican wife. You should see them together. He’s six foot six, and she’s barely five foot four.”

Jamie laughed. He had good laugh lines. Creases in his cheeks and around his eyes. And those eyes—they literally sparkled. Like he was an open book happy to let me see just how much fun he was having. And we were having fun. For over an hour, we continued to talk. Mostly about soccer. A little more about our families. A lot about my work. After a particularly long stretch of feeling like I’d done nothing but talk about myself, I turned the conversation back to him. It felt like he’d been avoiding the subject of his own work, which made me all the more curious to know about it.

“Okay, spill it. How does the handsome Jamie Hamilton spend his weekdays?”

He leaned back and clasped his hands, propping his elbows on the armrests of his chair. “I’m in business with David.”

“Yeah? Doing what?”

“Software and app development.”

“Well that’s a vague, techy-sounding answer. Do you work on anything I would recognize?”

He held out his hand. “Maybe. Can I see your phone a minute?”

“Such a personal request,” I teased. I used my thumbprint to unlock the screen, then handed it over. He scrolled through a few screens, typed something, then gave it back. He’d navigated to the app store and pulled up the specs for a popular logic puzzle game. Popular was kind of an understatement. The game was huge. Annoyingly huge. I scrolled over the page, trying to figure out what he was showing me, and then I saw it. The game developers were listed as David and James Hamilton.

I looked up. “You did this?”

“Don’t get too impressed. Dave is the brain behind the technology. I do the marketing.”

“But wait. The entire thing? LogiX? That’s all you guys?”

“Maybe you should sound a little more surprised. I promise it’s not hurting my ego at all.”

“No! I don’t mean to sound surprised; it’s just . . . impressive. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t have this game on their phone. I’m stuck on level seventy-eight. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Don’t tell Dave. He loves hearing that kind of thing.”

“Wow. That’s very cool.” I placed my phone back on the table, feeling more than a little awestruck. It wasn’t quite running-into-Bruno-Mars exciting, but still. Pretty awesome. Jamie had done something big. “How did you get started?”

“Dave went to grad school at UNC. He started working on it during his last semester and then continued after he graduated. I didn’t do grad school, so I moved down here and camped in his apartment until the app launched. It was a gamble. I could have found work right after graduation, but Dave was convinced that when he finished, it would be huge. So I waited, then we launched, and here we are.”

“Do all four of you live together?”

“No. Simon’s got his own place. He’s an accountant—graduated from Duke a few years back—and likes the quiet too much to live with us. He blames it on work and his need to focus. We just think he’s boring. Cooper’s with me and Dave, but temporarily. He’ll head back home at the end of the summer.”

“For his mission.”

“Yep.”

“Duke and UNC graduates in the same family,” I said. “Bet that makes for lively dinner conversations.”

“You have no idea. The rivalry runs deep. What about your dad? He grew up here, right? Who’s his team?”

“He’s totally a Tar Heel. Sometimes I think it’s more about Duke not winning though. His team will be whatever team has the best chance of beating the Blue Devils.”

He chuckled. “It’s a good thing you aren’t dating Simon. That man’s loyalty to his alma mater is frightening.”

“Where did you guys grow up?” I asked.

“Bristol, Virginia. Our parents are still there. What about you? Has Asheville always been home?”

I nodded. “As long as I can remember.”

“I’ve visited Asheville before. Great food.”

“But not great sushi, right?”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind my desk. It was nearly ten. “I should get home,” I said.

He stood and started gathering the dinner mess. “I hope I haven’t kept you too long.”

“No, it’s been great. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks. But we still need to talk about the most important thing.” He dropped the last of the food containers into the bag and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“What’s that?”

“The scheduling of our rematch.”

“Ha! I knew it! Carlos told me you wouldn’t be able to stand the fact that I’d won.”

“I can stand it fine. I just like a good game as much as the next guy.”

“Hmm. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

“Listen. I’m doing this youth soccer clinic with my brothers. It’s through the YMCA. Simon’s accounting firm sponsors it so underprivileged kids can come free of charge. You interested in helping out?”

Of course. Four handsome, sexy, soccer-playing brothers would run a clinic for underprivileged kids, wouldn’t they. I might have rolled my eyes at the utter perfection of it all had I not been wrapping up a date with one of those handsome brothers myself. I cleared my throat, already knowing whenever that clinic was, I was not going to miss it. “Um, maybe. When is it?”

“Five to seven p.m. Tuesdays and Thursdays. It starts next week and runs for three weeks.”

I nodded. “That might work. Really, it depends on how work is going. I can’t guarantee I’ll be finished in time.” I almost laughed out loud at my own casual performance. I would absolutely be finished on time.

He took a step closer. “Don’t guarantee it, then. Just . . . try.”

“Where does the rematch come into play?”

He was standing close enough that I could feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. Totally distracting but in the best kind of way. “Well, I mean, we’ll be on the soccer field,” he said. “With balls and goals and everything. Once the kids leave, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Oh, I see. It makes sense you’d want to wait for everyone else to go home. That way when you lose again, it won’t be so embarrassing.” I reached up and gave his chest a playful pat.

“Oh, ho, ho, that’s the way it’s going to be, is it?”

I grinned. “What? Think you might be . . . in over your head?”

He laughed. “Okay. I totally deserved that.”

I gathered my things and turned off the lights, then we walked together to the back door. April had locked up on her way out, so I used my newly acquired, all-powerful keycard to get us through the door and into the parking lot. Only two cars remained.

He pointed to my car. “This is you?”

“Yep. Thanks for bringing me dinner,” I said.

“Thanks for letting me come.” He put a hand on my arm and leaned in, kissing me on the cheek. The closeness of him, even for the briefest of moments, was enough to start my heart hammering. Jamie lingered, his body leaning into mine, and grinned. He knew exactly what sort of affect he had on me. Probably on women in general.

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. “Okay. Enough of your spell-casting man magic.”

He grinned. “I’ll see you around.”

Cocky jerk, I thought to myself.

I couldn’t wait to see him again.

Simon: How was dinner?

Jamie: Sushi was disgusting. Company was great.

Simon: You have terrible taste.

Jamie: I won’t tell Lane you said so.

Simon: In food, moron. I’m sure Lane is very nice.

Jamie: She’s going to help with the soccer clinic next week. Can you get her a coaching shirt?

Simon: Will do.

Simon: Did Lane like the sushi?

Jamie: Yeah. Said it was amazing.

Simon: See? You do have terrible taste.