Page 22

I pushed the door open and stepped out, seeing Jonas waiting for me on the sidewalk leading to my house.
It looked beautiful at night with little solar lights illuminating the walk and a vintage sconce lighting the front entrance. Even in the dark, the light yellow paint seemed bright and cheery.
Kind of like Jonas’s house. All the pictures on the wall, the books stacked chest high... they were signs of love. Of life. Of light.
“You don’t have to walk me to my door,” I said to Jonas.
He smiled slightly. “Had to make up for not ringing the bell earlier.” He paused on the elevated concrete pad of my front porch. “And I wanted to say thank you. Mom really loved you.”
Something in my heart twisted painfully. Like how could this complete stranger come to like me when my own mother had been so eager to leave? “I liked her too,” I admitted. “She’s sweet. But...”
Jonas seemed concerned. “But what?”
“I feel a little guilty. Lying to her about us.” More than I ever thought I would.
His frown deepened, only emphasized by the shadows outside. “Life is full of shades of gray. Our decision doesn’t have to be all good for it to be the right thing in the moment.”
He made a good point. “You think it will help her? To be able to do dialysis at home?”
“You have no idea. She gets so tense every time we have to walk into that building, and Dad’s been feeling so guilty he can’t afford to stay home and do it with her before he can retire next year. You’re really helping us out, Mara.”
That thought brought a smile to my lips. “I’m glad to do it, really.”
“Thanks.” He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “So what do we have to do tomorrow for your thing?”
Back to business. For the reason we were both here. “We have a press conference at five. I’ll be sending my publicist photos of us from Birdie and Cohen’s wedding, things like that, to prove we’ve been together. But we’ll have to act... familiar with each other at the press conference.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, seeming skeptical.
“Charlotte said some hand holding, maybe a kiss or two should do it.” I was almost worried about telling him, afraid of how he’d react, but Jonas didn’t balk at all.
“Do you think we should practice?” he asked.
I laughed. “Practice holding hands?”
“Or kissing,” he said, not a hint of humor or flirtation on his face. Which, I supposed I should have expected from an accountant. “I don’t want to get there and mess it up for you. Or my mom.”
That twisting sensation in my heart was back. He was willing to do anything for her. Even kiss a person he clearly had no interest in at all.
“Kissing is easy,” I said. “Just press your lips together for a moment and there you go.”
“I don’t think so,” Jonas said, his brown eyes even darker at night. “They’re going to be scrutinizing you, looking for any hint that you’re putting on an act.”
My eyes instantly traveled to his lips. I was going to kiss an accountant. “Are you sure?” I asked.
Those lips I’d spent way too long examining earlier spread into a gentle smile. But he didn’t speak. Instead he reached out, gently weaving his fingers through the curls at the back of my head. Second by second, he came closer. Tentatively, he looked into my eyes, as if making sure I was still alright. If I wanted this.
His consideration of me was new... and sweet.
I nodded slightly, his eyes drifting shut, his black lashes forming an intricate fringe. And then his lips were on mine.
His touch was soft, careful, gentle...
Consuming.
I tilted my head to the side, exploring the way his full lips molded to mine, the pressure of his hand at the back of my head, the gentle flutter of his breath over my skin.
I’d thought it would be a simple, feelingless kiss—one peck and done.