Page 41 of Finding Yesterday
“You sure?” Jack’s eyes are kind.
“Yes, I am,” I say with more certainty. “I don’t miss him.”
Jack nods slowly. “That seems like a good sign that you made the right decision.”
The corners of my mouth tick up. “I think you’re right about that.”
“The new necklace…is that a ruby?”
“Yeah.” I touch it again. “It’s something Hudson ordered me a long time ago.”
Jack lifts his shirt, revealing his tattoo. He points to some droplets of water on one of the stems, and when I look closely, I see that they’re the shape of rubies. So, the tattooisabout his grandmother. Something tears at my heart, and I meet his gaze. The way he looks at me tells me he understands the pain of that dreadful day. I wasn’t sure how much it had affected him, not until just now.
So, itdoeshaunt him like it does me.
But I can’t get emotional right now and neither can he. Breaking the spell, Jack goes to a box and starts unpacking it. His face lightens when he asks, “So, Tangz has a chili now?”
“Apparently. Hudson invented it.”
“Okie doke.” He yawns before he says, “Would I be the worst human ever if I went over there and got a coffee from him? I’ve been super curious about those beans he got from Santa Barbara.”
“Seriously?” I raise a brow. “You’re not kidding.”
“I’m not kidding. I’m nosy, and I need the sugar too. I slept like crap again last night.”
“Sorry to hear about the sleep.” I sigh. “You can go over there and get one. Only because I want you to get me one too.”
He salutes me, smiling.
Although at this point I shouldn’t be surprised, I’m still wooed by Jack’s gentlemanly offer.
I finish putting the tasting spoons in a jar while Jack is gone. When he returns and hands me my coffee, I thank him before taking a sip. I blink before I meet his gaze. “What do you think?”
“Um, honestly…” He looks up. “It tastes like coffee.”
I laugh. “It does taste a lot like coffee, doesn’t it?”
“Yup. So, with our very coffee-like coffees, I’d like to make a toast.” Jack holds up his cup. When I touch mine to his, he says, “To kicking some serious ass today.”
“To kicking ass.” I can’t help but notice that when Jack holds a coffee, he looks like a hot barista from a commercial.
My brain flashes to an image where I’m in the advertisement with him, running my hand down his chest. It’s corny, but at this point, I don’t bother trying to analyze it.
Jack and I get busy assembling our ingredients and working side by side, which is fun because, well, it’s Jack.
There’s just no doubt about it—life is more entertaining with him.
And it’s hard to believe he’s leaving in three weeks for good.
A woman from another restaurant approaches, all smiles when she says, “Jack Brady?”
He looks up. “Yeah, that’s me.”
She bounces on her feet. “I’m such a huge fan. I loved you onGrade A Chef—you so deserved to win.”
“Thanks,” he says with a practiced smile, and I can tell he’s used to the attention.
“Can I get your autograph on my apron?” she asks, holding it out.
