Page 37 of At the Heart of It (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #4)

K ate rang Jonah’s doorbell with her elbow. She had a bag of takeout Thai in one hand, a six-pack of IPA in the other, and her heart in her throat.

“Hey there!” Jonah threw open the door and grinned at her, then stepped aside to usher her in. “Looks like you found a way to change clothes.”

“Yeah. There was a Victoria’s Secret right by the Thai place, so I ran in and grabbed sweatpants and flip-flops.”

“I like it,” he said, and Kate felt her cheeks grow warm.

Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned Victoria’s Secret.

And maybe she shouldn’t have bought the cute bra-and-panty set she’d grabbed on impulse, reassuring herself it was only because her black undies might show beneath the new white sweatpants.

None of it had anything to do with Jonah.

“Denial is a form of self-abuse.”

Viv’s words were a chant in her head.

“You’re lying to yourself instead of someone else.”

Kate gritted her teeth and gripped her purchases a little tighter.

“Let me take that.” Jonah grabbed the six-pack from her hand and started toward the living room.

“I notice you grabbed the beer first,” Kate said as she followed behind him.

“That looked the heaviest,” he said. “Besides, I wanted to see what you got.”

Kate watched him head toward the couch and felt relieved. Something about that felt more casual than sitting at the dining room table with placemats and straight-backed chairs. It had nothing to do with wanting to cuddle up close to him on the couch.

She almost believed that as she began unpacking the food on Jonah’s coffee table, piling compostable containers of coconut rice and lemony tom kha gai soup in neat little rows beside his remote control.

“Nice choice on the IPA,” Jonah said. “I’ve actually been to Big One’s.”

“I figured you’d like the name.” She hoped he didn’t take it as a come-on. Or hell, maybe that’s exactly how she’d meant it. “Is the apostrophe a typo or something?”

Jonah chuckled. “Only if you’re talking about balls. It’s a reference to the earthquake scientists predict will someday wipe out the West Coast.”

“That’s grim.” Or maybe just clever. “Where’s Big One’s located?”

“This cool little town on the Oregon Coast called Cherry Blossom Lake.” He pulled two of the cans from the pack and cracked one open. “The brewmaster is Mason Spencer-King. He took home gold in the small brewery category last year at the National Craft Beer Awards.”

“Impressive.” Kate nibbled her lip. “I wasn’t sure about the cans. Are bottles supposed to be better?”

“No, this is great. Canned beer is better in a lot of ways.”

“Really?” She learned something new every day.

“Aluminum preserves the freshness of the beer better than glass does. Something about light and the way the cans are sealed.”

She smiled. “Plus I can crush it on my forehead when I’m done.”

Jonah laughed. “I would pay a lot of money to see that.”

Kate took the pile of paper plates and napkins he handed her and set them up on the coffee table while Jonah arranged plastic forks and a can of beer for each of them.

“Want a glass?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m good.” She popped the top on hers, and something about the click and hiss gave her comfort. It made this whole thing seem more like a platonic meeting between two colleagues instead of a clandestine rendezvous between two people who’d slept together and might wish urgently to do it again.

Maybe that was just her.

Kate glanced to her right and spotted Marilyn looking at her with intense skepticism.

Kate could see her point.

She tore her eyes off the cat and took a sip of beer. “It’s really good,” she said. “More floral than the Boneyard one the other night.”

The second the words left her lips, she wished she could take them back. The last thing she should do was remind Jonah of their visit to the swingers club. Of what happened after that.

But Jonah didn’t seem to notice. “You have a sharp palate,” he said. “The Big One’s beer has more of a mosaic hop flavor to it.”

He held up the can to study it again, which gave Kate the chance to study him.

He was still wearing the green shirt from earlier, though he’d undone several buttons at the top.

He wore a white undershirt beneath it, but she could make out the light dusting of chest hair at the neck of it.

She remembered what that felt like pressed against her bare breasts, soft and springy and?—

“Okay, Kate.” Jonah set his beer down on the coffee table. “What did you want to talk about?”

Kate licked her lips and rested her beer can on one knee. “What makes you think I wanted to talk about something?”

Jonah studied her for a moment, and Kate tried not to squirm. There were definite downsides to spending time with a guy trained by the military to ferret out spy secrets. It felt like he could read her mind.

He said nothing, which Kate knew damn well was meant to get her talking. To prompt her to volunteer more information.

She shrugged and took another sip of beer. “I was hungry for dinner, and your place was close,” she said. “And being here instead of a restaurant keeps us from being spotted by crew members or Amy or?—”

“We’re coworkers, Kate. Is it really that suspicious we’d have dinner together?”

“I don’t know.” She fiddled with the tab on top of her beer can. “I’m leery about what people read into things. What shows on my face. I may have studied acting, but I’m actually not a very good liar.”

“That’s a plus.” He grabbed two coasters and set one on the table in front of each of them, giving Kate the chance to take the beer can off her knee.

“I’m glad you suggested this,” he added.

“It’s nice to be able to let my guard down a little.

Not to have to keep up some sort of front for Amy or the crew or—anyone else. ”

There was something in that pause, a name they were both avoiding. Kate could see it hanging in the space between them, Viv’s name in big block letters. It was as noticeable as Viv’s voice echoing in her head all the time.

“I love him. Again. Still, I mean—I don’t think I ever stopped.”

She shook her head to clear the voice and reached for one of the containers of food.

Viv was in a meeting tonight, so at least there was no chance of her dropping by with the hope of wooing Jonah.

Not that she’d do that here. Knowing Viv, she’d want to save all the best footage for when the cameras were on them.

Kate kept her eyes down, intent on the task of opening boxes and reading lids and trying to recall what she’d chosen. Beside her, Jonah began opening cartons to reveal a fragrant array of food.

As the silence stretched out, they took turns doling out spicy curry and coconut rice. Kate wondered what he was thinking. If this felt as awkward to him as it did to her. If he was as aware as she was of the warm body just a few inches away.

Once she’d filled her plate, Kate leaned back against the sofa and tucked one leg under herself.

As she forked up her first bite of food, she thumbed through the index cards in her brain trying to find a topic of conversation.

Something casual. Something friendly. Nothing that involved Viv or sex or marriage or?—

“How did Jossy lose her leg?” Kate bit her lip, pretty sure that wasn’t the fun quip she’d been aiming for.

The startled look on Jonah’s face underscored her suspicion.

“Sorry,” she said, eager to backpedal. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want. That’s a personal question and Jossy’s story to tell. That was really rude of me.”

“No, it’s fine. Jossy would be okay with you knowing.

It isn’t a secret or anything.” He forked up a bite of curry and took a long time chewing it.

Kate waited, unsure how to conduct herself.

She stabbed at a piece of eggplant but couldn’t seem to get it onto her fork.

At least the task gave her something to look at besides Jonah’s face.

“You just surprised me; that’s all,” Jonah said. “I was going to let the silence draw out a bit so you’d tell me whatever was on your mind. I thought I’d have to wait longer than that.”

Kate gave a small smile and took an equally small bite of pad thai. “My finesse might leave something to be desired, but I’m usually pretty direct.”

“That’s a good skill to have.”

He still hadn’t answered the question, so she waited. She was thinking of reiterating that he didn’t need to tell her anything when he finally spoke.

“When I was eighteen, Jossy was fifteen,” he said slowly. “I had my license before she did, so obviously I ended up driving her around a lot. It was one of the conditions our mom set before she helped me buy a car.”

Kate nodded and picked up her beer. She took a small sip but kept her eyes on Jonah.

He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring down at his plate, a rare moment of avoiding eye contact.

Even Marilyn and her eyebrows seemed aware of a shift in the mood.

She lay quietly on the back of the sofa, paws stretched in front of her like a sphinx.

Her eyes were closed, and her face seemed unusually devoid of judgment.

“One night, Jossy called me from a party and said she needed a ride,” Jonah continued. “I was in the middle of a date with a girl whose name I don’t even remember. Krista or Kristy or something like that. Anyway, I gave Jossy a hard time. Asked if there was someone else who could come pick her up.”

Kate watched the side of Jonah’s face, noticing the furrow between his brows. The way he stared at his own hands, the plate of food forgotten in front of him.

“Did you end up giving her a ride?” Kate’s voice was quiet, and she somehow knew what the answer would be before Jonah spoke.

“No,” he said. “I was a selfish teenage asshole who thought he had a shot at getting a blowjob that night, and Jossy—” He stopped there and drew a shaky breath. “Jossy got in a car with a bunch of older kids. Juniors. Most of them had been drinking.”

Oh, God. “The one behind the wheel?”