And fix my biggest regret? That would prove problematic since it meant going up in a hot air balloon with my dad and he was dead. I’d wanted to say “yes” to him each and every time he’d invited me, but I’d been scared. Now it was too late.
Why had my dad given me such difficult tasks? Instead of helping me seize life, they were starting to seize me a headache.
Needing to get this dinner over with so I could work on my dreaded list, I turned in the direction Nate had gone when we’d arrived up here. Next to one of the railings sat a white-clothed table with two candles in the center that he’d apparently set up. There was also a bottle of wine on a nearby cart.
Nate stopped next to the table, set the white paper bag with our dinner on the cart, then pulled a lighter from his pocket. I frowned as he lit the candles.
This “friendly” rooftop meal looked
way
too romantic. Also, it was pretty nervy of him to secretly arrange this dinner after the way he’d left things between us when he’d moved away. I needed to keep it crystal clear that this meal was in no way an actual date. In truth, we weren’t really even friends since he’d ended that relationship by never calling me again.
Pivoting back toward the hatch we’d come through, I flipped on the light switch, illuminating the neglected terrace. I nodded. “Much better.”
Nate twisted my way as I strolled toward the table. “What gives?”
“Dim lighting reminds me too much of a date.” I draped my blazer over the back of a chair, set my purse on the floor beside it, then turned to him. My heart tugged at his disappointed expression. “You and I don’t need candlelight to eat a meal together. I’m actually confused as to why you’re going to all of this trouble to have dinner with me, anyway.”
His eyes flicked to mine. “Maybe I’ve missed you.”
My belly fluttered at his words, but I steeled my gaze. “That makes no sense. You moved away fourteen years ago without so much as a word to me. Now you appear out of nowhere and want to pick up our friendship where we left off? What would be the point of that? You’ll probably take off when you’re dad’s feeling better, then I’ll never hear from you again.”
“I can see why you’d think that.” His jaw tightened and he focused on popping the cork out of the wine bottle. Then he poured burgundy liquid into two glasses, and handed one of them to me. “But you have no idea how hard it was on me to make the decision to move to Paris.”
I took a sip, then huffed a little. “I understand that was difficult. But you still could’ve called to say you were moving.”
“No, I couldn’t.” His voice was firm, and his eyes flickered with emotion. “If I’d seen you, or spoken with you, then I wouldn’t have been able to leave.” He shook his head, and blew out a breath. “I needed to cut ties so I could go with my mom. She needed me.”
My mouth opened slightly, but I was momentarily speechless as his words hung heavily in the air. All this time I thought he hadn’t cared enough. Now he was saying the exact opposite was true. He’d cared so much, and that was the
reason
he hadn’t called me. Oh, the irony.
I pressed my fingertips to my temple, rubbing the growing tension there, then finally tossed my hand up in frustration. “You could’ve at least written to me at some point.”
“Yeah, I should have.” He stepped toward me, brushing his fingers over mine, sending tingles up my arm. He studied my face, as if taking me all in for the first time. Then he bent down, his jade-green eyes locking with mine. “But I was a stupid kid who had messed up. I was afraid you wouldn’t forgive me.”
“You didn’t give me the chance to,” I shot back, thinking of all the nights I’d spent wishing he would call me, wondering if I’d ever hear from him again.
“You have the chance now.” He lifted my hand, caressing my palm with his thumb. “I can’t rewind time to go back and fix my mistakes. But I can show you I’ve changed, if you’ll let me.”
I glanced away, focusing on a twinkling light in the sky that was either a planet or a star. As much as he’d hurt me, I couldn’t imagine the pain he’d gone through when his parents divorced, especially with him having to move to a foreign country and away from his dad. I should’ve gotten his number from Bernie and called him. We’d been best friends for years growing up, and I’d let my stupid feelings for him get in the way. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
I turned back to him, and raised my shoulders. “All right. Let’s move forward. I mean, you did remember my favorite restaurant.”
His tense expression relaxed. Then he stepped forward, surprising me by wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off the ground. His mouth brushed my ear, sending goose bumps down my neck. “I really did miss you.”
“I missed you, too.” Even though I should’ve pulled away, I hugged him back, and it felt
totally
different than when we were kids. He’d been handsome before, but he’d been a boy—tall and lanky. Now, he’d become a man, and had completely filled out. His upper back felt strong and firm beneath my grip, tempting me to remove his jacket so I could run my hands over his taut muscles without the thick leather in the way.
A stream of flutters rolled through my belly, causing me to go on red alert. I stepped back. “So, it’s agreed. We’re friends, and you’ll never disappear on me again.”
Although friends should
not
want to trace every hard line of the other friend’s body. My attraction to him was obvious—not to mention totally understandable, considering his off-the-charts level of hotness. But I needed to keep my feelings in check so I wouldn’t lose him again. I lifted my lashes and found him peering down at me.
His green eyes simmered. “I won’t let you down this time.”
Gulp. I needed to lighten things up. “Then feed me. I’m starving.”
“I can take care of that.” He smiled, then busied himself transferring the food from the containers to the plates. In under a minute, a delicious-looking Italian dinner was on the table, and he slipped into the seat across from me. “How did it go today with your dad’s letter?”
I sipped my wine, then set the glass down. “Let’s just say, I’ve found new meaning to the word
bittersweet
.”
“How so?” He lifted his own glass and leaned back in his chair.
I twirled my fork tines in the angel hair pasta, shaking my head in thought. “My dad died so suddenly, we weren’t able to say good-bye to him.”
His brows came together. “I heard the hot air balloon crashed into power lines. And there were no survivors. That’s awful.”
“Yes.” I nodded, the phantom feelings from that terrible day making my heart squeeze. But talking about it with Nate made it a little easier. With him, I didn’t have to be the strong daughter, the one who watched helplessly while my mom painted one ceramic hot air balloon after another. “My dad loved going up in those hot air balloons. He actually asked for his ashes to be sprinkled over the Sierras from one. My mom is trying to hire someone to do it, but she’s having trouble finding a company who will because of laws and stuff.”
His expression changed for a moment, and he seemed to study the plate in front of him. Then his gaze focused on me again. “What did his letter to you say?”
I swallowed a bite of pasta. “A sweet good-bye. Then, in true Dad fashion, he gave me homework.”
He let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re joking.”
“Oh, no.” I waved a finger, then reached for my wine glass. “He assigned me a
Carpe Diem
list, and told my mom that I can’t have my inheritance until it’s completed.”
“He wants you to seize the day, huh?” Nate asked, then popped a forkful of pasta into his mouth. He chewed slowly, studying me as I shrugged. He leaned forward, holding out his palm. “Let me see this list.”
I reached into my purse, removed the envelope, and handed it to him.
He pulled out the letter and read silently to himself. Then he cleared his throat. “Rescue a dog. Host a girls’ night. Only date someone who leaves you breathless. Fix your biggest regret.”
Scrunching up my face, I twirled some more pasta onto my fork. “I should probably consider myself lucky there are only four tasks on his list, and that they could all technically take place in the country. But my biggest problem is how quickly I have to complete them.”
His forehead wrinkled. “He’s been gone since you were fourteen. Why are you suddenly in a rush?”
I swallowed my last bite of food, then set my fork down. I wanted to tell Nate about my new dream, but I was afraid of saying it aloud. “I can’t tell you.”
He paused while reaching for the wine bottle. “Why not?”
“It’s a secret.” I waited for him to refill my glass, then I lifted it by the stem, and stood. I nodded my head in the direction of the railing across the terrace, then we strolled over there side by side.
When I stopped at the railing, I stared at the scattered neighborhood lights. Nate came up beside me, his arm nudging mine. Then he leaned close to my ear and whispered, “If you don’t share your secret with me, I’m going to tell you the scariest ghost story of your life.”
His breath tickled the sensitive spot on my neck, and I shivered. “Fine. But you’d have to promise not to tell your dad, or anyone.”
He leaned onto the metal bar of the railing, then tilted his head my way. “I promise.”
A nervous flutter ran through me, and I bit my lip. “I want to buy Bernie’s Bakery. I found the asking price online, and my inheritance money will just cover it.”
“You want to buy the bakery,” he repeated, his expression filled with surprise. “Why don’t you tell my dad you’re interested? I’m sure he’d be willing to take it off the market until you complete your list.”
“No.” I took a long sip of wine, then shook my head adamantly. “I know he would hold off selling, but then he’d be doing what’s in my best interest and not his. He’s sick and needs to retire. I won’t cause him an ounce more stress when his health is in jeopardy. I’ll complete the list fast . . . somehow.”
His eyes peered into mine, then the corner of his mouth curved upward. “I’m going to help you.”
I laughed at his determined expression. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” He dangled his wrists over the railing, still gripping my dad’s letter in his hand. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
My heart warmed. “I’ve never had much luck with friends.”
“Well, your luck’s changing, starting today.” From beneath my dad’s letter, he revealed a small square package wrapped in wax paper. “You know what else a friend does?” He unfolded the corners of the wax paper slowly. Next he peeled the paper back revealing a rectangular fudge bar that I recognized all too well. “After picking up your favorite dinner, a friend makes sure you have your favorite dessert.”
I stared at the chocolate marshmallow fudge bar, inhaling the sweet scent. My mouth watered, but I shook my head. “I gave those up years ago.”
He broke off a small piece and popped it into his mouth. Then he closed his eyes and made a humming sound. “Why would you
ever
do such a thing?”
Squeezing my wine stem, I licked my bottom lip. “They weren’t good for me.”
“Hmm.” His breath smelled like fudge, making it—and
him
—hard to resist. “What if they weren’t good for you before, but they are now?” he asked.
“I’m doing fine without them in my life.” My thoughts swirled, wondering if we were talking about the fudge bars or Nate. Either way, I had to stay strong. “I need to focus on buying the bakery, and I’m under a deadline.”
“Right. You need to complete the
Carpe Diem
list quickly.” He slowly put another bite of fudge between his enticingly full lips. I watched him chew leisurely as if he were deliberately savoring the taste to tease me. “Let’s talk about task number three,” he said.
My gaze darted from his mouth to his eyes, trying to get my mind off the delicious flavor on his tongue right now. “Number three . . .” I squinted, thinking about the order of the list, then my eyes widened when I realized the third task. “Only date someone who leaves you breathless.”
He nodded, his gaze pinning me in place. “Are you dating anyone right now?”
“I just stopped seeing someone, actually.” Despite my resolve to keep a friendly distance from Nate, my heart had a mind of its own and its steady beat kicked up to a trot, pounding against my ribcage. We
so
needed to talk about a different task on the
Carpe Diem
list. Any other task would be good right about now. “It’s better to complete tasks in order. I sent a text to my roommate earlier asking if it’s okay to have a dog in the condo. She has two kittens so I’m hoping she won’t have a problem with a little canine hair mixed in.”
Oh, man. I needed to stop rambling. Had I ever been so nervous in my life?
Looking amazingly focused, he leaned closer to me, until his mouth was only inches away from mine. “Did you break up with that guy because he didn’t leave you breathless?” His voice was a low rumble and his fingers grazed along my jawline, leaving a trail of heat where his skin had touched. “Because I’m sure no man would have the strength to leave you on his own will,” he whispered.
He fingered a strand of hair that had fallen against my face, causing all of the air to leave my chest. I gripped the railing for support and my gaze dropped to his mouth, which was right there just waiting for me to press my lips against his. A sense of
déjà vu washed over me. Like we’d been here before, with his mouth just a breath away from mine. And we had. My first kiss, which had been
amazing
. . . .
Tension mounted inside me, and an insistent voice inside me screamed
kiss him
.
Kiss him
. I leaned forward slightly, sliding my tongue over my bottom lip, trying to recall why this was a bad idea.
I inhaled to calm myself, but got a whiff of that sweet marshmallow fudge bar instead.
The temptation to taste him was overwhelming, embracing me like the most wicked kind of torture.
My head became fuzzy and my resolve began to dissipate.
“Give me the fudge.” I whispered the demand, as if pleading for mercy. My heart thudded in my chest. Maybe if I indulged in a little something sweet, my craving to taste him would go away.