Page 12 of Isabelle & Jason
They made it to the kitchen, and the cowboy pulled a chair out for her as he started getting stuff ready.
“Would you believe that before I came to work for Mateo, I was a chef?”
Her eyes widened. “Like a chef-chef? Or like a… guy who worked in the kitchen.”
He smirked at her over his shoulder as he pulled eggs and milk from the refrigerator. “Like a chef-chef.”
She shifted on the metal chair, watching him with new interest. “So people would say ‘yes, chef,’ when you told them to do something. Like in the movies?”
He laughed again and nodded. “Yep.”
“Then what on earth are you doing here?”
There was a pause, a tension in the room that was drawn tight. Then he turned to face her fully and another flicker of memory raced down her spine. What was it about him that was so familiar? She wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was the fact that she’d seen him around for the last couple of years. This was different.
It nagged at her, pulling her thoughts in several directions until she felt her heart starting to race again. She clutched at her chest, but then his words shattered the strange sensation.
“I guess I got to the point in my life where I wanted something different. My life was so full of chaos.” His brows pulled together, but it seemed to only make him more handsome. His eyes took on a far-off quality for a moment, and in those fleeting seconds, she could sense that he wasn’t completely with her. Then he focused on her again. “Don’t get me wrong. I fed off that chaos for a while. It can be fun. But when it’s every single day, when you start to feel trapped in a cage while feeling like there’s something missing in your life…” He shrugged. “I suppose I took this job because it offered me a taste of what I loved while giving me the freedom to explore what else my soul needed in order to feel whole.”
His explanation hung in the air. It was clear he’d thought about it for a while. Eloquent and admirable.
This man was someone who knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t willing to settle. He wasn’t the type to hold back.
Like she was.
Isabelle dropped her eyes to her hands. She flexed her fingers and curled them into fists again. She was stuck. And she was too much of a coward to do anything about it.
“One of the hardest things in life is to know something needs to change and still be incapable of doing anything about it.” Her whisper hadn’t been meant for him, and yet he still responded.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
5
Jason
Jason froze. There was no mistaking the sniffle that came from across the room.
If he were a weaker man, he would have rushed to close the space between them and pulled her in for a hug. He would brush the strands of hair from her face and tuck them behind her ear as he whispered words of comfort.
Then he would promise he’d never let anything else hurt her.
His fingers curled tight into his palm as he stayed exactly where he was. Isabelle didn’t need him to overstep and make her feel uncomfortable. She’d had her personal space violated enough in her life.
His sister Penny had told him to tread carefully when he was around her—to be mindful of her reaction to him so he didn’t scare her off or trigger something she wasn’t prepared to deal with. His sister knew what she was talking about. At least that was what he continued to tell himself over the last four years when he’d been tempted to tell her who he was.
She still didn’t remember him from that night. Her brain had opted to block out pretty much all memories from that night. She continued to keep to herself. From what he could tell, she didn’t look interested in dating or spending time with any men beyond her brothers.
When he asked Penny about it, she told him to mind his own business.
She’d been right.
He hadn’t known Isabelle before that night. Maybe she wasn’t the type to date much.
Then again, maybe that night had rewired her somehow and she needed…
What?
Fixing?
