Page 26 of About that Fling (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #2)
Adam sighed and reached out to lay a hand on her knee. “I know when we first hooked up, we thought it was just a quick fling. When we realized it couldn’t be more than that, I figured it was no big deal. There are other fish in the sea and all that. But every minute I spend with you?—”
He stopped there, not sure what he meant to say. Not sure what he could say that wouldn’t make this whole thing harder.
“I know,” she said, swallowing. And he felt certain she did know. For some reason, words seemed to be failing both of them now. Perhaps it was the late hour, or maybe it was that there was too much they could say.
“We won’t be working together forever,” he said, reaching up to brush a lock of hair off her cheek. He left his hand there, and she leaned into it like a cat craving the touch.
Her cheek felt smooth under his palm, and for a moment they just sat there connected by only the lightest feather of contact.
“My contract with Belmont will end in a month or two,” he said. “After that, we wouldn’t have to worry about the professional side of things. About your employer claiming it’s a conflict of interest or anything like that.”
He waited for her protest, but it wasn’t the one he expected.
“You live in Chicago,” she said. “That’s a long ways away.”
“I don’t suppose you have a whole passel of relatives in the Windy City that you’d love to reconnect with?” He was trying to sound glib, but realized quickly he just sounded desperate. “Sorry, I?—”
“I don’t really have any relatives.” Jenna bit her lip. “No one but Gertie.”
He’d never asked about her family, but now didn’t seem like the right time. “I travel all over the country for my work,” he said instead. “It doesn’t matter that much what city I call my home base.”
“What are you saying?”
He swallowed, not sure if he’d gone too far or presumed too much. He was probably supposed to be cagier, but dammit, he liked her. He liked her enough to consider what a future with Jenna might look like. Was she on the same page?
“I have family in Seattle,” he said. “I’ve considered relocating before, just to be closer to them. I’m just saying that if things got serious between the two of us, I could see myself moving to the Pacific Northwest. Hypothetically, I mean.”
She sighed and closed her eyes, still leaning into his touch. Adam curved his palm to cup the side of her face, then slowly traced the line of her jaw and the satiny skin of her throat.
For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Just leaned into his touch, breathing in and out and mingling their breath behind the fogged-up windows of her car.
When she opened her eyes, they glittered beneath the streetlights. He could see the doubt in her expression before she uttered a single word. “We might not be working together forever, but you’ll always be my best friend’s ex-husband. There’s no getting around that, is there?”
“No,” he said slowly. “That won’t ever change. But maybe your feelings about it will?”
She sighed and shook her head. “It’s like you said earlier, Adam—things are always more complicated than that.”
“How do you mean?”
“It’s not just my feelings I’m worried about.”
He nodded. There was no arguing with that, even though he wanted to. Even though part of him raged with the urge to yell that he gave up caring about his ex-wife’s feelings the second he signed the divorce papers.
But most of him knew that wasn’t true. As much as he hated it, as much as he no longer cared for her that way, the ghost of her silent judgment would always be hanging over him.
Every career choice he made, every romantic entanglement he entered, it would forever be filtered through a fleeting question of what Mia might think.
He hoped it might fade with time or a new relationship, but a whisper of it would probably always be there.
It wasn’t the same hesitation Jenna had, but it was still there.
“Understood,” he said at last, even though that wasn’t entirely true. “Good night, Jenna.”
He leaned in to kiss her, and there was something more gentle about it this time. A breath of longing and sadness about what could never happen between them.
When they drew apart, her eyes glittered brighter than before. “Goodbye,” she whispered.
On Sunday morning, Jenna set the table with Aunt Gertie’s good china.
“I’m so glad this is becoming a tradition,” Gertie said, stirring a big pot of gravy on the stove. “What time did you say Mia would be here?”
“A few minutes after nine,” Jenna said, smoothing the corner of a blue and white checked placemat before she set the plate down. “Mark had something to do for work, so Mia had to take Katie to her mom’s house.”
Jenna folded a napkin with a more severe crease than it needed, wondering if Mia would stop and chat with Ellen.
She knew the relationship wasn’t great between the two women, but Mia always tried.
What if Ellen mentioned seeing Jenna and Adam together?
Would Mia buy the cover story about team-building prep, or should she come up with something else?
The fact that she was giving so much thought to hiding something from her best friend sent a fresh wave of guilt surging through her, and she gripped the counter to hold herself steady. God, maybe she should just tell Mia everything. It had to be better than lying, didn’t it?
“Everything okay, dear?”
Jenna turned to her aunt. “Sure, why?”
“You just seem distracted. Is there anything you want to talk about?”
The fact that I’m falling for my best friend’s ex-husband?
The fact that you’re a bestselling erotica author and I’m afraid the scandal could cause labor negotiations to blow up in my face?
The fact that I slept with the mediator my employer is counting on to bail us out of the worst personnel disaster in the company’s history?
“I’m great,” she said, turning to place a fork neatly beside Gert’s spot at the table.
Gert wasn’t appeased. “You’re sure, dear?”
“Yep.” Jenna forced herself to smile. “Everything’s under control.”
Shaking her head, Gert banged her spoon on the edge of the pot. “So much like your mother sometimes,” she murmured.
Jenna opened her mouth to rely, but the doorbell rang. Setting the last piece of silverware on her placement, she smoothed down her hair. As she crossed the living room, she felt oddly self-conscious. Throwing open the door, she greeted her friend with a smile.
“Hey, chica,” Jenna said, leaning in for an air-kiss. “How are things going?”
“All right.” Mia’s hair looked rumpled and her cheeks seemed flushed from something besides the glow of pregnancy.
“Everything okay?” Alarm rippled through her as she studied her pal.
“Fine.” Mia sighed and walked into the house, her steps heavy and slow. She set her purse on the table by the door and moved toward the kitchen clutching a bright blue bowl filled with fruit salad. Jenna fell into step beside her, trying to read her best friend’s mood.
“Gawd, what a morning.” Mia set the bowl on the table.
She turned to lean against the kitchen counter near the spot where Aunt Gertie set down a baking sheet lined with biscuits.
“I walked Katie up to the door with a bunch of extra tomatoes from our garden. She’s been gobbling them up all weekend, and I thought Ellen might like to have some, you know? ”
Jenna bit her lip. “You talked to Ellen?”
“No. She didn’t even come to the door. Not even when Katie called after her and said I wanted to say hello. She just yelled from the back of the house for Katie to give back the tomatoes and say her goodbyes.”
Any relief Jenna felt for her near miss got wiped out in an instant by a fierce sense of sadness for her friend. “I’m sorry, Mia. I know how hard you’ve been trying.”
“It’s okay.” She pasted on a smile and pushed away from the counter, reaching over to hug Aunt Gertie. “Everything smells delicious. What can I help with? Need me to stir the gravy or put the biscuits in a basket or something?”
“Sit down, sweetheart,” Gert said, waving her toward a chair. “Goodness, you look like you’re about to burst.”
Mia seemed ready to argue, but she cast a look down at her ankles. “Thanks, you’re right. I swear, I’m running out of shoes that can fit. Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me about all the swelling?” She dropped heavily into a chair. “Thanks, you two. I’m so happy to be here right now.”
“Are you okay, dear?” Gertie frowned as she began piling the biscuits into a wooden bowl lined with a crisp gingham cloth. “You look awfully worn out. Is something bothering you besides the run-in with Katie’s mom?”
Mia picked up a grape that had fallen from the fruit salad bowl and rolled it around between her fingers. “It’s been a rough weekend.”
Jenna grabbed the biscuit bowl and tucked the cloth around the edges, covering everything carefully before carrying it to the table. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Mark. Things have been—strained lately.”
“How do you mean?”
“We’re having trouble with boundaries,” Mia said, setting the grape down and fiddling with the tines on her fork. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to put limits on how often Ellen calls, or at least on how often he answers the phone.”
Gert frowned and began ladling the gravy into a bowl. “Are they talking about Katie?”
“That’s just it—I’d totally understand if they needed to talk about grades or soccer camp or dentist appointments or even how Katie is doing with friends. Believe me, I get it. I married a guy with a kid, and I know that will always be top priority.”
Gertie started to carry the gravy to the table, but Jenna headed her off and picked up the bowl. She set it down in front of Mia, then turned to grab a spoon for Mia’s fruit salad. “So what’s different about these calls?” Jenna asked.
“Mark answers them all the time,” Mia said. “Even if we’re on a date. Even if we’re in the middle of family movie night or being intimate.”
Gert’s eyes widened as she lowered herself into the seat beside Mia. “He talks to his ex-wife during sex?”