“Really, I would rather head back to the hotel. I got a few things, and like I said, I am almost done.”
He drained his coffee and stood. “I’m going to ask the owner a couple of questions.”
I watched him leave, wondering what I would give him for Christmas. Were there rules when it came to a situation such as ours? Did I buy him a gift? From what he said, I shouldn’t expect one from him. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t find him something meaningful that he would like.
Except what would it be? I would have to think long and hard to come up with the perfect gift.
He came out of the shop, a bag of coffee in hand. “Let’s keep shopping.” He paused. “Please.”
I stood. “Okay.”
An hour later, I was ready to give up. Jaxson seemed to get edgier as time went along. He no longer even pretended to walk by my side, instead seemingly six or seven steps behind me at all times. He insisted on carrying the bags, and I had a feeling it was the perfect excuse not to hold my hand. His anxiety seeped into me, and I was done. I made one final purchase of a lovely live edge charcuterie board for Addi and Brayden. The wood carver was going to imprint it with their initials and send it to me within a week, so I would have it in plenty of time for their wedding. They loved that style of “grazing,” as Brayden called it, and I knew they would love this board. Heather and I could go to one of their favorite stores and fill a bag with all sorts of delicacies for them to serve with the board. It was the perfect gift for them.
“Ready to go?” I asked, forcing a bright smile.
“You haven’t finished.”
“Yes, I have. I found lots of great things. I’m ready to go back to the hotel.”
“I wanted you to have a nice day,” he huffed. “I ruined that too, didn’t I?”
“Too?” I questioned.
“Last night was a write-off, and now today.”
I faced him fully. “I thought we moved past last night. As for today, aside from your anxiety, it has been lovely. I appreciate your bringing me here and letting me shop. I liked spending time with you, so just shut up. Now I want to go back to the hotel and use that big tub again.”
“We have dinner reservations.”
“Cancel them. We can eat in the suite.”
“I wanted to take you to dinner.”
“I would rather enjoy a meal in private than have jumpy Jaxson across the table.”
“Jumpy Jaxson?”
“You’re like a cat on a hot tin roof. Let’s accept that it’s too hard to be in public and go back to the hotel and enjoy the last few hours we have of the weekend.” I winked, trying to make him relax. “Jumpy Jaxson can jump me in private.”
He traced a finger down my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“No. No apologies. We need to go forward.” I held his hand to my cheek, wishing he would snap out of his mood.
“Then we go to dinner as planned.”
I gave in. After all, the restaurant was in the hotel on the twentieth floor.
What could possibly happen?
“Tell me about your cousin,” he asked over dinner.
I smiled at him across the table. He was in a deep-gray suit, his shirt snow-white, with a tie of silver and ice-blue that matched his eyes. He was more relaxed than he had been all day. I wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the fact that our table was tucked away and private, or if it had been the marathon sex we’d had when we got back to the hotel. Or a combination of all three. Whatever it was, he was charming and sexy, his dark hair hanging over his forehead and his posture relaxed.
“Addi? We grew up in different provinces, but we’ve been best friends as long as I can remember. I’m older than her, but just by a couple of years. It never made any difference, just like being in different cities. We talked and FaceTimed every day. Spent all our holidays together. She’s marrying Brayden Riley—another ‘adopted’ cousin. I adore him as well. They’re made for each other.”
“And they’re getting married at Christmas?”
“Yes. Addi is president of ABC Corp., and a couple years ago, she found a run-down winery in Port Albany. The company bought it and rebuilt it. She dreamed of getting married there, and now it’s happening. She’s amazing. She sees potential in places others write off.”
“You plan on working there when you pass the bar,” he stated, refilling our glasses with the rich red wine.
“I plan on spending time there and at BAM, learning from Bill. He’s retiring, and I want to pick his brain.”
“You have no interest in working for BAM?”