Loving my fathers best friend.

Chapter 2;That first look

BELLA

The backyard smelled like charcoal smoke, grilled burgers, and sunscreen.

Laughter floated over the music of some old jazz playlist my dad loved and kids chased each other around the patio furniture.

I stood on the deck steps for a second, taking it all in, my navy dress fluttering against my legs in the warm breeze.

Mom had outdone herself. Long tables covered in red-checkered cloths, bowls of potato salad, corn on the cob, trays of ribs. String lights were already glowing even though the sun hadn’t set yet.

Classic Harper family barbecue.

“Bella!” My aunt Lisa spotted me first. She hurried over in her bright yellow sundress, arms wide. “Look at you, all grown and gorgeous!”

I laughed and let her pull me into a hug that smelled like coconut lotion. “Hey, Aunt Lisa. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Liar,” she said, stepping back to look me over. “College did something good to you. Come say hi to everyone before they eat all the food.”

She looped her arm through mine and dragged me down the steps into the crowd. I waved at cousins I hadn’t seen in years, hugged my dad’s old college buddy Mike who still called me “kiddo,” and smiled politely at a few neighbors whose names I barely remembered.

Dad found me near the drink table, a cold lemonade already in his hand. He passed it to me.

“Thirsty?”

“Very.” I took a long sip. The tartness cut through the nervous flutter in my stomach.

He put an arm around my shoulders. “Come on. I want to show you off.”

We walked through the yard together. He stopped at small groups, introducing me like I was some prize he’d just won.

“This is my daughter, Bella,” he said to a couple I didn’t know. “Just graduated, top of her class in marketing. She’s starting at the firm Monday.”

The woman smiled warmly. “We’ve heard so much about you. Your dad never stops talking.”

I felt my cheeks heat. “He exaggerates.”

Dad chuckled. “Not even a little.”

We moved on. Ethan, my little brother was manning the grill with a couple of his friends, flipping burgers like he was born for it.

He saw me and grinned, waving the spatula.

“Hey, college dropout!” he called.

“I graduated, you brat,” I shot back.

He handed me a plate with a perfectly charred burger. “Here. Eat before Mom starts forcing seconds on everyone.”

“Thanks.” I took a bite. Juicy, smoky, perfect.

Mom appeared next to us, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Bella, come meet the new neighbors. They just moved in down the street.”

I followed her to a nice couple in their forties. We chatted about the neighborhood, schools, how rainy Seattle winters really were. Polite stuff.

Easy.

The whole time, though, my eyes kept drifting. Scanning the yard. Looking for one person.

And then I saw him.

Alex stood across the lawn near the big oak tree, talking to my dad’s golf buddy Tom.

He wore a simple gray polo that stretched across his broad shoulders and dark jeans that fit just right. His hair looked a little longer than in the pictures, silver at the temples catching the late-afternoon sun.

He laughed at something Tom said deep, easy and my stomach dropped like I’d missed a step on stairs.

God, he looked good.

Better than good.

Real.

Not a dream. Not a photo on my phone. Right there, maybe thirty feet away, alive and breathing and laughing.

My mouth went dry. The lemonade suddenly tasted like nothing.

He turned his head slightly, like he felt someone watching. Our eyes met.

For a second the noise of the barbecue faded. No music, no kids yelling, no clink of bottles. Just him looking at me, and me looking back.

His smile changed. Slow. Warm. The kind of smile that made my knees feel weak even when I was a kid asking for piggyback rides.

He said something to Tom, clapped him on the shoulder, and started walking toward us.

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.

“Bella,” he said when he reached me. His voice was the same low, steady, a little rough around the edges.

“Alex.” I managed to get the word out without it cracking. Barely.

He stopped a couple feet away. Close enough that I could smell his cologne something woodsy and clean. Close enough that I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes. Blue. Sharp. Looking right at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

“Welcome home,” he said.

“Thanks.” I smiled, hoping it didn’t look as shaky as it felt. “It’s… good to be back.”

He nodded, eyes flicking over me quick, polite, but I caught it. The way they lingered on my face, my hair, the way the dress hugged my waist.

Then back to my eyes.

“You look…” He paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Grown up.”

I laughed, soft. “I’ve had a few years to practice.”

His mouth curved. “Clearly.”

Dad, standing right next to me, didn’t seem to notice the sudden thickness in the air. He slapped Alex on the back. “Told you she’d show up eventually. Our new marketing genius.”

Alex’s gaze didn’t leave mine. “I believe it. Heard she’s already got ideas for the Thompson account.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been talking about me?”

“Only good things,” he said. A small tease in his voice.

My dad laughed. “Come on, both of you. Food’s getting cold. Alex, grab a plate. Bella, you too.”

He walked off toward the grill, calling out to Ethan about not burning the ribs.

And then it was just us.

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets. Casual. Relaxed. But I saw the way his jaw tightened for a second.

“So,” he said. “How was the flight?”

“Long. Cramped. The usual.”

He nodded. “You settling in okay?”

“Yeah. Room’s the same. Mom washed the sheets and everything.”

He smiled again this time. “She’s always been like that.”

Silence stretched for a beat. Not awkward, exactly. Charged.

I took a breath. “It’s weird being back. Everything feels… different.”

His eyes softened. “Four years is a long time.”

“It is.”

Another pause. I could feel my pulse in my throat.

He glanced toward the grill, then back at me. “Listen, if you need anything at the office tour of the new layout, intro to the team just say the word. I’ll make sure you’re set.”

“I appreciate that.”

He studied me for a second longer. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” I admitted. “New job. New city. Well… old city, new me.”

“You’ll be fine.” His voice dropped lower. “You’ve always been quick. Smart. People are going to love working with you.”

The compliment hit somewhere deep. Warmth spread through my chest.

“Thanks, Alex.”

He gave a small nod. “Anytime.”

Someone called his name Tom again, waving him over. Alex glanced that way, then back at me.

“Duty calls,” he said. “But I’ll catch you later. Save me a seat if the tables fill up?”

I smiled. “Deal.”

He turned and walked away. I watched the way his shoulders moved under the polo, the easy stride, the way he greeted people as he passed.

My hands were shaking just a little when I lifted the lemonade to my lips.

I took a long drink.

He’d looked at me.

Really looked.

And I’d felt it everywhere.

The barbecue carried on around me laughter, music, the sizzle of meat on the grill. I joined conversations, smiled at old friends, and helped Mom refill the ice buckets.

But my mind kept drifting back to that moment.

To his eyes on mine.

To the way his voice had softened when he said my name.

To the tiny, dangerous thought that slipped in before I could stop it.

He noticed me too.

And I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to survive working with him every day when just one look across the yard had my body remembering every single dream I’d ever had about him.

I pushed the thought down. Buried it under small talk and forced smiles.

But it stayed there, warm and stubborn, refusing to leave.

Tomorrow was Monday.

The office.

Him.

And I had no idea how I was going to act normal when every part of me wanted to run straight back into that gaze and never look away