****
“Are you sure you’re okay taking over the last few boxes?” Stella asked, filing her polished pointer finger. Today the color was red; tomorrow it would probably be orange. She claimed she hated keeping up with clothes trends — so she used polish as a way to express herself.
“Yeah.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “I’ve only got four more boxes and then I’ll go grab us some lunch. How does that sound?”
“Great.” She beamed, setting down her nail file and opening her desk, “Here’s a twenty.”
“Stella—”
“Take it or I won’t eat.” She dangled the money in front of my face.
I snatched it and rolled my eyes.
“And don’t roll your eyes at the elderly.”
“You’re seventy-two, that’s hardly elderly.”
It was Stella’s turn to roll her eyes. “Hurry back, sweetie.”
“Will do!” I waved goodbye and walked outside to my car. It was my first day working without Jaymeson.
This morning he’d acted like nothing happened, while I had stared at the countertop and almost erupted into flames.
His hands had been all over me.
His mouth too.
In that same kitchen.
How could he eat? I’d barely choked down the eggs he cooked before making up some lame excuse about showering and drying my hair.
And he’d let me leave. No hug, no nothing. The only highlight of my day had been that Jamie Hudson had been constantly messaging me. He’d even told me some funny stories about on-set catastrophes. I liked him. He made me laugh. He reminded me a lot of Jaymeson, and it wasn’t just the same first name. They both called me love.
When I asked him about it, he said that’s what his grandma used to call him, so it just stuck.
Made sense.
The drive to The Goodwill took three minutes. I got out of the car and rang the bell on the back door.
No one came. Grinding my teeth, I marched over to the front doors and walked in. The bell chimed but I still didn’t see anyone.
“Hello?”
I walked around to the front counter, just as a figure with a pirate patch popped up and held out a sword.
“Holy crap!” I shouted.
“Ahoy matey, where be yur bootey?”
“Jaymeson?” I croaked.
“It’s Captain Jack Sparrow, and I be wantin’ me treasure!”
Leave it to Jaymeson to make a Goodwill costume look so hot I wanted to launch myself over the counter and attack him.
“You’re sure working hard.” I pushed his sword away and leaned on the counter. “Playing pretend, are we?”
“Pirates don’t play. We plunder,” he said in his normally accented voice, his eyes darkened a bit before he cleared his throat and looked away. “So how’s your day been?”
“Awesome. I won the lottery.”
“You should buy an island.”
“So you can bury your treasure?” I asked.
He laughed. “Aye.”
“I’ll get you, Captain!” another male voice shouted across the store. “I’m going to cook your parrot and eat it!”
I burst out laughing as Evan appeared in his own pirate garb. He didn’t pull it off as well. His patch kept falling off his face, and his sword was plastic instead of wood like Jaymeson’s.
“Evan…” I sighed. “Always good to see you making the world a better place, one sword fight at a time.”
He immediately pulled off his patch and threw his sword behind one of the rows. “We were bored.”
“Right.” I nodded. “I do that too. Resort to swordplay when I’m bored. I have at least ten costumes at home ranging from cop to Batgirl.”
“Really?” His interest seemed piqued.
“I think she’s joking.” Jaymeson rolled his eyes and then said under his breath. “You are joking, right? Because a Batgirl costume would be badass. Don’t tease if you can’t follow through.”
Wow. They really belonged together. It was almost as bad as watching Demetri and Jaymeson interact. I swear when men bonded it was like taking ten years off their age.
“Sorry to disappoint.” I tapped the countertop with my hand. “No costumes. No masks.”
“Pity.” Jaymeson sighed.
“You have the rest of the boxes?” Evan asked.
“Yup in my car.”
“Jaymeson, go get the boxes,” he ordered.
“Why me?”
“Because you’re donating your time to The Goodwill and lovely city of Seaside, and because I’m your boss.”
Jaymeson made a big show of taking off his pirate patch and setting his sword down then with a sweeping motion bowed in front of me. “My lady awaits.”
“You guys been drinking?” I asked curiously.
Evan snorted. “No.”
Jaymeson patted him on the back, then walked around the counter, and offered me his arm. I didn’t want to take it because that meant touching him again.
Maybe I should just accept the fact that he’d never be mine. If I accepted it, I could enjoy the little moments, store them up in my brain, and then when it was time to move on with reality and life, I’d have at least those memories to keep me warm at night.
Wow. Depressing.
We walked arm in arm to my car. I unlocked the doors as Jaymeson walked around and grabbed two of the boxes.
“Am I too late to help?” Smith’s voice broke my concentration and I pulled my eyes away from studying Jaymeson’s biceps.
I pivoted on my heel. “Not at all! We have two more boxes.”
“Perfect!” Smith leaned in and kissed my mouth before I could stop him, then went over and grabbed the other two boxes. I could have sworn I heard Jaymeson say ‘jackass’ under his breath, but then again, I was probably imagining his jealousy.
Movie stars didn’t get jealous of mortals.
I closed the doors and locked the car, following them both into the store as they deposited the boxes near the counter.
“So…” Smith wiped his hands on his ripped jeans. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Doubtful,” Evan muttered under his breath. Jaymeson hit him across the chest while Smith glared.
“We should go out tonight.”
“Again?” Jaymeson and I said in unison.
I laughed it off and sent a seething glare toward Jaymeson.
“What did you have in mind?”
Smith wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. It felt wrong. Physical contact with him felt… cold.