Tossed Into Love
Page 13
“Like I said, I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”
“We do. You caught me off guard, and—”
“Stop.” She shakes her head, cutting me off. “I don’t want to do this tonight. Please,” she whispers.
Seeing the tiredness and defeat in her eyes, my gut tightens right along with my chest.
“I’ll give you time,” I agree. “But we’re going to talk, Libby.”
“Fine.” She nods. “Now will you move out of my way so I can get to work? It’s New Year’s Eve, and there is already a line of people out the door.”
Stepping aside, I let her go even though every instinct is telling me not to. When the door closes behind her, I run my fingers through my hair.
Fuck. I want her.
I’ve wanted her for a long fucking time, but I’ve done jack shit about it besides push her away. Now I need to see if I can somehow undo that damage. At that thought, I smile. I have always loved a good challenge—and I know that Libby is going to be just that.
I open the door to the office, then lock it behind me and go to the back of the shop, where Libby is making pizzas with Hector.
Meeting Hector’s gaze, I nod toward him. “I got this if you want to help Marco.”
I watch his eyes go to Libby. He looks at her with a question in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” she tells him.
My jaw clenches as he lifts his chin and then moves to the opposite side of Libby. Like it’s happened every time I’ve worked with her, we fall right into sync.
Her sister Mackenzie told me that Libby was a hard worker, but I didn’t believe her. All I saw were Libby’s expensive clothes and her perfectly styled hair and makeup. I thought she was just like my ex, that all she cared about was money. I was wrong about her. There is no way in hell my ex would ever have stepped in to help out like Libby has. If she had been forced to help, she would have complained the entire time. I’ve never heard Libby complain—not even once. She’s never complained about washing dishes, busing tables, or making pies. She doesn’t say that she’s tired, but I know she must be from working two jobs most days. Instead, she’s always smiling, always happy. As if she wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than right here, working and getting her hands dirty. Looking at her profile and the frown I put on her face, I fight the urge to sigh. Yeah, I was wrong about her. Now I need to prove to her that I’m not the jerk I’ve shown myself to be more than once. I have my work cut out for me. If someone ever treated me the way I’ve treated her, they would see my back—and nothing else ever again. I just hope she’s not as bitter and fucked-up as I am.
The first time I saw her at the shop, she was with her sisters. They were sitting at one of the booths in the back. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I noticed that she had been having the same problem with looking at me. I had been about to make my approach and introduce myself to her when I overheard her talking to her sisters about some designer bag she wanted. Hearing that was like a bucket of cold water hitting me in the face. After that, I shoved her right in the same box as my ex. Looking at her once more now, I just hope that I can find a way to convince her to forgive me.
I see a smile light up her face, and I’m surprised when she suddenly stops what she’s doing and slides a half-made pizza to Hector to finish.
“Be right back,” she tells him as she spins around. “Lucas! Madeline!” she shouts happily as she hurries past the counter. A little girl of probably four or five throws herself into Libby’s arms and giggles while a man who’s my age or maybe a few years older stands back, watching them embrace with a smile on his face. The moment the little girl lets go, Libby’s eyes go to the guy. Her expression fills with a sweetness I haven’t seen before. She wraps her arms around his waist. Jealousy, hot and ugly, turns my stomach and warms my blood as I watch them.
“You okay, amigo?” Hector questions.
I pull my gaze off Libby to look at him.
“I’m good.”
“You sure?” He drops his eyes to my hands, and I realize the ball of dough I have in my grasp has been mangled by my clenched fists.
I shake my hands and narrow my eyes at Hector and Marco, who are both smirking at me.
“What?” Neither of them says anything, and both of them get back to work. Pressing out another crust, I look over my shoulder at Libby. She’s coming back behind the counter, and the man and girl are walking out the door with a pizza that they must have called in for pickup.
“Who was that?” I ask when our eyes meet and her step falters.
“That’s Fawn’s fiancé’s brother and his daughter.”
Her words catch me off guard, and I stare at her for a long moment. I’ve known both of her sisters for years, but until recently I didn’t even know that either of them was dating anyone serious.
“Fawn’s engaged?” I ask.
Her startled eyes dart from the pizza she’s dusting with cheese to meet mine.
“She got engaged at Christmas.”
“What?” I ask, watching her smile.
“Levi, Fawn’s boyfriend, asked her to marry him Christmas morning,” she says, dropping her eyes back to the pizza in front of her.
“Didn’t they just start dating?” I ask, remembering Libby and some guy coming in for pizza not long after Halloween.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little quick to suddenly be engaged?”
“They’re in love. What does it matter if they get engaged now or a year from now? I think when you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you should spend the rest of your life with them—especially when you don’t know how long your life will be.”
“That sounds like a line out of a romance movie,” I say, remembering her aversion to romantic movies and how adamant she was about disliking them.
She peeks up at me and shrugs one shoulder. “I guess it does.”
“So you do like romance?” I nudge my shoulder against hers, and she rubs her lips together.
“I might not like romance movies, but I’m still a girl. I like the color pink, heels, makeup, and designer clothes. I also like the idea of falling in love and finding my own Prince Charming to build a life with one day. Who doesn’t want to fall in love and live happily ever after?”
“I’ve been in love before. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
She licks her bottom lip. “Maybe you weren’t in love with the right person.”
I stare into her eyes, then clear my throat. “Yeah, maybe.” I pull my eyes away from hers.
Really, there is no maybe about it. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with my ex. I only saw what I wanted to see. I stupidly thought that, in time, she would change her ways. That if I could just love her enough she would see that material things weren’t important, that family was all that mattered. I really believed she would eventually be happy with the life I was trying to build for us. In the end, I was just never enough.
“Two minutes until midnight!” Peggy shouts as I lock the door behind the last customer of the night and head toward the kitchen.
Marco pops a bottle of champagne. Lola takes it from him and starts to fill plastic champagne glasses. Seeing my parents standing there with their arms around each other, I smile. My dad looks good—better than he has in weeks. The worry lines around my mom’s eyes have started to fade away. They both look happy, which is a relief. Dad’s heart attack scared them both. I had never seen my mom cry so much or seen my dad look weak. He’s always been strong. Having been together since they were eighteen, neither of them would know how to function without the other.
“Can I have some, Mom?” Peggy and Hector’s daughter, Valeria, asks her as she eyes the bottle of champagne Lola is holding.
“When have I ever let you drink alcohol?” Peggy asks with a frown.
“Dad’s let me have a sip of his beer before.”
“Has he?” Peggy looks at Hector and raises a brow.
“It was only one time,” he mutters, wrapping his bulky arm around Valeria’s shoulder. “There’s sparkling cider for you.”
“We do. You caught me off guard, and—”
“Stop.” She shakes her head, cutting me off. “I don’t want to do this tonight. Please,” she whispers.
Seeing the tiredness and defeat in her eyes, my gut tightens right along with my chest.
“I’ll give you time,” I agree. “But we’re going to talk, Libby.”
“Fine.” She nods. “Now will you move out of my way so I can get to work? It’s New Year’s Eve, and there is already a line of people out the door.”
Stepping aside, I let her go even though every instinct is telling me not to. When the door closes behind her, I run my fingers through my hair.
Fuck. I want her.
I’ve wanted her for a long fucking time, but I’ve done jack shit about it besides push her away. Now I need to see if I can somehow undo that damage. At that thought, I smile. I have always loved a good challenge—and I know that Libby is going to be just that.
I open the door to the office, then lock it behind me and go to the back of the shop, where Libby is making pizzas with Hector.
Meeting Hector’s gaze, I nod toward him. “I got this if you want to help Marco.”
I watch his eyes go to Libby. He looks at her with a question in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” she tells him.
My jaw clenches as he lifts his chin and then moves to the opposite side of Libby. Like it’s happened every time I’ve worked with her, we fall right into sync.
Her sister Mackenzie told me that Libby was a hard worker, but I didn’t believe her. All I saw were Libby’s expensive clothes and her perfectly styled hair and makeup. I thought she was just like my ex, that all she cared about was money. I was wrong about her. There is no way in hell my ex would ever have stepped in to help out like Libby has. If she had been forced to help, she would have complained the entire time. I’ve never heard Libby complain—not even once. She’s never complained about washing dishes, busing tables, or making pies. She doesn’t say that she’s tired, but I know she must be from working two jobs most days. Instead, she’s always smiling, always happy. As if she wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than right here, working and getting her hands dirty. Looking at her profile and the frown I put on her face, I fight the urge to sigh. Yeah, I was wrong about her. Now I need to prove to her that I’m not the jerk I’ve shown myself to be more than once. I have my work cut out for me. If someone ever treated me the way I’ve treated her, they would see my back—and nothing else ever again. I just hope she’s not as bitter and fucked-up as I am.
The first time I saw her at the shop, she was with her sisters. They were sitting at one of the booths in the back. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I noticed that she had been having the same problem with looking at me. I had been about to make my approach and introduce myself to her when I overheard her talking to her sisters about some designer bag she wanted. Hearing that was like a bucket of cold water hitting me in the face. After that, I shoved her right in the same box as my ex. Looking at her once more now, I just hope that I can find a way to convince her to forgive me.
I see a smile light up her face, and I’m surprised when she suddenly stops what she’s doing and slides a half-made pizza to Hector to finish.
“Be right back,” she tells him as she spins around. “Lucas! Madeline!” she shouts happily as she hurries past the counter. A little girl of probably four or five throws herself into Libby’s arms and giggles while a man who’s my age or maybe a few years older stands back, watching them embrace with a smile on his face. The moment the little girl lets go, Libby’s eyes go to the guy. Her expression fills with a sweetness I haven’t seen before. She wraps her arms around his waist. Jealousy, hot and ugly, turns my stomach and warms my blood as I watch them.
“You okay, amigo?” Hector questions.
I pull my gaze off Libby to look at him.
“I’m good.”
“You sure?” He drops his eyes to my hands, and I realize the ball of dough I have in my grasp has been mangled by my clenched fists.
I shake my hands and narrow my eyes at Hector and Marco, who are both smirking at me.
“What?” Neither of them says anything, and both of them get back to work. Pressing out another crust, I look over my shoulder at Libby. She’s coming back behind the counter, and the man and girl are walking out the door with a pizza that they must have called in for pickup.
“Who was that?” I ask when our eyes meet and her step falters.
“That’s Fawn’s fiancé’s brother and his daughter.”
Her words catch me off guard, and I stare at her for a long moment. I’ve known both of her sisters for years, but until recently I didn’t even know that either of them was dating anyone serious.
“Fawn’s engaged?” I ask.
Her startled eyes dart from the pizza she’s dusting with cheese to meet mine.
“She got engaged at Christmas.”
“What?” I ask, watching her smile.
“Levi, Fawn’s boyfriend, asked her to marry him Christmas morning,” she says, dropping her eyes back to the pizza in front of her.
“Didn’t they just start dating?” I ask, remembering Libby and some guy coming in for pizza not long after Halloween.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little quick to suddenly be engaged?”
“They’re in love. What does it matter if they get engaged now or a year from now? I think when you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you should spend the rest of your life with them—especially when you don’t know how long your life will be.”
“That sounds like a line out of a romance movie,” I say, remembering her aversion to romantic movies and how adamant she was about disliking them.
She peeks up at me and shrugs one shoulder. “I guess it does.”
“So you do like romance?” I nudge my shoulder against hers, and she rubs her lips together.
“I might not like romance movies, but I’m still a girl. I like the color pink, heels, makeup, and designer clothes. I also like the idea of falling in love and finding my own Prince Charming to build a life with one day. Who doesn’t want to fall in love and live happily ever after?”
“I’ve been in love before. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
She licks her bottom lip. “Maybe you weren’t in love with the right person.”
I stare into her eyes, then clear my throat. “Yeah, maybe.” I pull my eyes away from hers.
Really, there is no maybe about it. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with my ex. I only saw what I wanted to see. I stupidly thought that, in time, she would change her ways. That if I could just love her enough she would see that material things weren’t important, that family was all that mattered. I really believed she would eventually be happy with the life I was trying to build for us. In the end, I was just never enough.
“Two minutes until midnight!” Peggy shouts as I lock the door behind the last customer of the night and head toward the kitchen.
Marco pops a bottle of champagne. Lola takes it from him and starts to fill plastic champagne glasses. Seeing my parents standing there with their arms around each other, I smile. My dad looks good—better than he has in weeks. The worry lines around my mom’s eyes have started to fade away. They both look happy, which is a relief. Dad’s heart attack scared them both. I had never seen my mom cry so much or seen my dad look weak. He’s always been strong. Having been together since they were eighteen, neither of them would know how to function without the other.
“Can I have some, Mom?” Peggy and Hector’s daughter, Valeria, asks her as she eyes the bottle of champagne Lola is holding.
“When have I ever let you drink alcohol?” Peggy asks with a frown.
“Dad’s let me have a sip of his beer before.”
“Has he?” Peggy looks at Hector and raises a brow.
“It was only one time,” he mutters, wrapping his bulky arm around Valeria’s shoulder. “There’s sparkling cider for you.”
