Page 18 of At the Heart of It (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #4)

K ate saw Jonah hesitate as she stood there on his doorstep feeling the glare of his porch light beating down on her like a spotlight. She took a deep breath, wondering if she should have come here at all. If she should have kept texting or maybe sent an email.

Then he stepped aside and waved her into his home, and Kate released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Come on in,” he said. “I was just helping the cat get settled.”

Kate looked at Marilyn, who was standing on the back of a tan leather sofa with her eyebrows arched in silent judgment.

“Hey, kitty,” she said, stepping over to stroke the cat’s ears. “I’m glad he decided to keep you.”

“Me, too,” Jonah said, and Kate thought she caught a note of embarrassment in his voice.

“You’re her hero.”

“Please,” he muttered. “I’m her butler.”

“Same thing to a cat.”

Jonah shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her, probably wondering what the hell she was doing in his living room. “I’d offer you a beer, but the cat doesn’t seem to approve.”

“Your cat disapproves of beer?”

“Apparently the cat I acquired to break free from my ex-wife’s pet ban is now enforcing my ex’s beer ban,” he said. “Don’t think the irony is lost on me.”

Kate laughed, relieved he was still joking with her. That he wasn’t as pissed as she knew he had a right to be. “That’s okay,” Kate said. “I’m not really a beer fan anyway.”

“Not a beer fan?” Jonah shook his head in dismay. “What’s wrong with you?”

Kate grinned and scratched the cat under the chin. “Just because I happen to think Budweiser tastes like skunk that’s been run over?”

Jonah made a face. “It does taste like that. Budweiser? Are you serious?”

“That’s the only beer I know of.”

“Do you live in a cave? Haven’t you had real beer? Not Budweiser or Coors some other mass-produced, yellow, fizzy mess. I’m talking craft beer.”

“Isn’t all beer pretty much the same?”

Jonah shook his head a little sadly,and Kate wondered if this whole conversation was his way of distracting her from what she’d really come to discuss. Wasn’t it male habit to shut down any conversation that began with a woman saying, “We need to talk”?

“Don’t stereotype!”

Viv’s words bounced through her brain.

“Making generalizations about the person with whom you’re in a relationship is a one-way ticket to conflict.”

But since she wasn’t in a relationship with Jonah, and since she was standing here in his living room hearing echoes of his ex-wife’s voice in her head, maybe the whole point was moot.

Kate stroked her hand down the cat’s back again, soothed by the soft rumble emanating from Marilyn’s fluffy body. “Look, I’m sorry about just showing up like this,” she said. “I tried texting and calling, but there was no answer and I really wanted to talk with you privately.”

“I shut off my phone,” Jonah said. “I wasn’t in the mood to debrief with Viv about how today went.”

“You think she’d want to debrief?” Kate lifted an eyebrow. “Seems a little presumptuous. I’m guessing she’d be as eager as you were to put today behind her.”

Jonah didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up his phone off the counter and switched it on. As soon as it powered up, he held it out to her. Kate looked down at the screen, which was lit up with the opening lines of three different text messages.

Jonah, I’m concerned with how ...

We really need to ...

I think we should have a conversation about ...

Jonah drew the phone back. “Just a hunch, but I think she wants to talk about how today went.”

Kate swallowed and nodded. “Probably a good guess.”

She thought about asking why he didn’t just have the conversation and get it over with, but the exhaustion on his face made her think twice about that. Could she really blame the guy for not wanting to follow up a day spent with his ex-wife with an evening spent talking to her on the phone?

“Jonah, I want to apologize,” Kate began. “I didn’t expect today’s session to be quite so?—”

“You know, you really should try a good beer,” he said “before you write off the whole beverage based on exposure to an inferior product.”

“I, uh?—”

“Hang on,” he said. “I have a really good pumpkin ale from Juniper Ridge.”

Kate blinked. “Juniper Ridge the reality show?”

“Huh?” He stared like she’d spoken Swahili.

“ Fresh Start at Juniper Ridge ,” she continued, hoping it might ring a bell.

“The Judson family started this self-contained community in rural Oregon as a sort of social experiment and brought in all the teachers and cops and medics to make it a real town. They’re filming the whole thing and the guy who runs the brewery—Griffin someone—he’s known for making these really creative beers. It’s excellent television.”

Jonah’s blank stare told her he didn’t have a clue about the show. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My beer was made on the set of a reality show?”

“More like a small town that happens to be on TV.” Maybe beer was the key to firing Jonah’s enthusiasm for unscripted television. “In fact, I’m sure of it—the brewmaster married one of the Judson sisters.”

“In that case, you should definitely try the beer.”

She started to protest, but clearly this was something that mattered to Jonah. Maybe it had to do with the beer ban he’d mentioned, and an urge to wriggle out from under Viv’s thumb.

Or maybe her earlier suspicion was right and he just wanted to distract her. Either way, he had a point. She probably hadn’t given beer a fair shake.

“Sure,” she said. “If you think the cat will allow it.”

Marilyn looked up. “Owl.”

Her expression was one of silent judgment, but she stayed rooted on the back of the sofa.

“You distract the feline police,” he said. “I’ll make a break for it.”

He turned and hustled toward the kitchen, and it took Kate a few seconds to realize she was staring at his ass. He wore jeans that looked worn and soft as flannel, and a blue T-shirt that said Semper Fi across the back.

The cat gave a low growl and Kate looked down to see the animal regarding her with a knowing eyebrow lift.

“Sorry,” Kate whispered. “I didn’t mean to look.”

“Owl.”

“Oh, come on. Like you haven’t admired the view?”

“Are you talking to the cat?” Jonah called from the kitchen.

“We’re just discussing the finer points of filmmaking.”

“That seems fitting. Maybe she’s a reincarnated movie critic.”

Kate glanced at the cat, whose expression did suggest an abundance of freely spoken opinion.

“You can’t judge a girl by her looks,” Kate said.

“It’s not just her looks,” Jonah called. “It’s the attitude. I’m telling you, it’s like living with a perpetually disgruntled boss who’s critiquing my job performance.”

“Maybe you need to step up your game.”

“Maybe so.” He sauntered back into the living room carrying two pint glasses filled to the brim with a pumpkin-colored liquid. He handed one to Kate and nodded toward the couch. “Come on. If you’re going to make me talk about how today went, let’s at least sit down someplace comfortable.”

Kate followed him around the sofa, a little surprised by his willingness to return to the subject he clearly didn’t want to discuss. But maybe the beer made the difference. She had to admit, holding the pint glass in her hand made her feel casual and relaxed.

Jonah seated himself on the sofa, and Kate hesitated. It would probably be more professional for her to sit on the loveseat, but would that seem weird? Jonah patted the seat beside him.

“You planning to sit, or are you going to stand there lecture style and tell me all the things I did wrong today?”

“You?” Kate dropped onto the sofa, the distance thing forgotten for now. “You didn’t do anything wrong. What are you talking about?”

He shrugged and took a sip of his orangey-looking beer. The flicker from the fireplace reflected on his glasses and brought out the amber in his eyes. Kate felt herself getting dizzy and started to blame the beer before remembering she hadn’t tasted it yet.

“I know today was awkward, but trust me that it wasn’t your fault,” Kate said.

“I’m not sure everyone shares your opinion.”

Kate shook her head and rested her glass on the knee of her jeans. “If anything, it’s my fault. Clearly the whole situation was more contentious than I expected it to be. That’s why I came here. I wanted to apologize for that.”

“It was exactly as contentious as I expected it to be,” Jonah said. “No need to apologize.”

He didn’t seem angry or bitter about that. Just resigned. Kate still felt bad. “Obviously we knew it was going to be awkward to have two ex-spouses working together, but I don’t think I realized what a toll it might take on you.”

“On me in particular, or are you having this conversation with Viv as well?”

Kate gripped her glass tighter. It hadn’t occurred to her to have this conversation with Viv. Only with Jonah. She tried not to read too much into that.

“I’m concerned about both of you,” Kate said, deliberately avoiding the question.

“But more about me.”

She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, but he obviously wasn’t going to let the subject lie.

“Viv has been on board with this TV program from the start—the planning, the pre-production, the discussions of what it would and wouldn’t feel like.

You sort of got thrust in to it at the last minute. ”

Jonah grinned. “Here’s where Average Joe would make an inane comment about last-minute thrusting being a great way to save a relationship.”

“Right.” Kate felt a sharp stab of guilt.

“I guess that’s what I mean. I worry that I pushed you into something you didn’t have time to think through.

That maybe you agreed to this without considering the challenges of being forced back into the Average Joe persona when you’ve been trying to break out of that. ”

Jonah shifted his glass from one hand to the other, but didn’t take a sip. He studied her with an intensity that made her want to look away, but she didn’t.

“You’re not responsible for my decision, Kate.”