Lee’s Fine Jewelers is my future. My destiny. I’m a little envious of Isaac’s choices. He can do whatever he wants.

While I’m stuck with something that was never my choice in the first place.

“I suppose I can’t blame you for feeling that way,” I say softly. “If you have the freedom to do what you want, then you should go for it. Very rarely do our jobs bring us joy.”

“Mine does,” he says without hesitation. “Does yours?”

I turn my head so our gazes meet. Lock. His eyes are pale blue. Like the sky in the early spring. When it’s bright and full of promise. That’s what his eyes are telling me.

That he’s bright.

And full of promise.

“It does,” I finally admit. “Sometimes.”

He frowns, his golden brown eyebrows furrowing. “Only sometimes? Isn’t it your family business? I see the Sullivans work together every day, and they seem to love it.”

And aren’t they the lucky ones?

“It’s not that I hate my job,” I tell Isaac, my brain searching for the right words to say. “It’s just…a job. It’s not my passion. I’ve been told since I was a little girl that I would run the family business someday. I started working in the store when I was eight.”

He chuckles. “Eight?”

I nod. “I helped clean at night. I wielded a bottle of Windex at those glass display cases like a weapon and scrubbed them clean as if I were doing battle.”

His smile stays firmly in place. “I bet you were a cute kid.”

I shrug. “I suppose.”

“How long has your family owned the business?” he asks.

“Over thirty years. Since before I was born,” I answer.

“And how old are you? Do you mind my asking?” I can see the curiosity written all over his face. I walked right into that one.

“Twenty-six.”

He grins. “So you’re an older woman.”

“Not that it matters in friendship, am I right?” I raise a brow in challenge.

Isaac watches me, and I can tell he’s trying to come up with something to say. Or more like, the right thing to say. I wait in breathless anticipation, curious.

“Amelia. I am not having friendly feelings toward you at all.” He leans in close, his mouth right by my ear. “Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?”

A jolt runs through me at his words, the sexy tone of his voice. Is it the alcohol that’s made him so bold? Or is Isaac just that confident, and has no qualms in saying what he wants?

I can’t help but angle my head toward his, our mouths terribly close. Kissing close. I can smell him. The faint scent of male cologne, mixed with that fresh pine smell. The sudden thought of pressing my face to his warm neck and inhaling him flashes in my brain, and I shove it away.

“Not lately,” I answer him, my voice almost a whisper.

“Well, you are. And I’m sure you’re thinking what’s a kid like me doing, going for a hot-as-hell woman like you. But if I don’t shoot my shot now, when will I ever?” He reaches out, tangling his fingers in my hair and gently pushing it away from my face. I inhale sharply, secretly wishing he would touch me again.