Page 38 of At the Heart of It (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #4)

He nodded, gaze still fixed on his plate.

“Yeah. Yes.” He looked up at her then, and the sadness in his eyes hit her like a punch in the stomach. “It was my fault. My selfishness cost my sister her leg. Left her with a lifetime of shitty pain and doctor visits.”

“Jonah, no. You were just a kid.”

He shook his head like he hadn’t even heard her. “You want to know the worst of it?”

Kate nodded, though she wasn’t sure she did. How could it be worse?

“Jossy was a competitive cyclist,” he said. “She was really good, too. Fifteen years old and the USA Cycling team was already starting to let her train with them. She had a future.” He shook his head and set his beer down hard on the coaster. “A future I fucking ruined.”

It was on the tip of Kate’s tongue to insist that he couldn’t blame himself, but she stopped herself. Was there really a point to that? If he’d spent eighteen years telling himself it was his fault, no flippant remark from her would change that.

“Can she still ride a bike?” Kate asked in a soft tone. “I don’t know how prosthetic legs work, exactly.”

“It’s tougher when the amputation is above the knee like Jossy’s was,” he said.

“There are computer-controlled knees that have settings for things like biking and skiing, but they’re insanely expensive.

Hundreds of thousands of dollars once you factor in fittings and maintenance and things like that. ”

“And insurance doesn’t cover it?”

“Most don’t,” he said.

A light flickered in the back of Kate’s brain, and she finally understood. “That’s why you’re doing the TV show,” she breathed. “That’s why you changed your mind after I showed you the budget.”

Jonah nodded once and spun his beer on the table. “Jossy knows computer-controlled prosthetics exist, obviously. But it’s never been an option before. She’s never wanted to talk about it.”

“Does she know that’s why you’re doing the show?”

He shook his head. “But I figure if I find myself sitting on a huge pile of cash, she’ll have a hard time saying no.”

“Jonah.” This time she did reach out and touch him. A hand on his knee, which seemed like a pitiful gesture once she saw her own five fingers sitting there useless and small. He looked at it for a long time, almost like he was wondering how it got there.

“That really fucking sucks,” Kate said. “For you, for Jossy—hell, for the other kids in that car, whether they died or got injured or have to live with what they did forever. It fucking sucks for everyone.”

Jonah burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that for a moment, Kate worried he’d slipped into hysterics. Even Marilyn seemed alarmed, her eyebrows lifting as she repositioned herself a few inches away.

“Oh, Kate,” he said, shaking his head with laughter in his voice. “You say the best things sometimes.”

Kate grimaced, wondering if she should back up and try again. “I’m sorry for your—for her—loss.”

He shook his head, still laughing a little. “You know what Viv said to me the first time I told her that story?”

Kate felt a pang at hearing Viv’s name, but forced herself to stay focused on the conversation. “No. What?”

“She said, ‘Guilt is an emotional warning sign that there’s something here for you to learn. Self-examination can be healthy, and this is a beautiful opportunity to grow and mourn and flounder and breathe.’”

“That’s beautiful,” Kate said. “Much more put together than what I said.”

“Sure, it’s great. Textbook example of what to say to someone who’s grieving and blaming himself. Literally—it’s from a book. A book she wrote.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Kate said, not sure why she felt like defending Viv. “She has wise insights to share. She’s articulate and?—”

“Kate, I know. You don’t need to sing my ex-wife’s praises. I know she has fans, and I know you’re one of the biggest. It’s just—sometimes people don’t want the platitudes. They just want connection. Something real. Something genuine. Something heartfelt, even if it’s, ‘that really fucking sucks.’”

Kate twirled her fork around in the pad thai. “There was still a more poetic way to say that.”

“Probably. But I didn’t invite you to dinner for the poetry.”

“Didn’t I invite myself to dinner?”

“All the more reason I’m glad you’re here.”

Jonah picked up his plate and took a bite of curry. The frown lines relaxed in his forehead, and though he wasn’t exactly smiling, he didn’t look as melancholy as he had a few minutes ago.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” Kate said.

Jonah looked up. “Are you talking about the car accident, or what happened between us the other night?”

“The car accident.” Kate bit her lip. “I’m not sorry about what happened between us. It can’t happen again, of course?—”

“Of course.”

“But like you said the next morning: It wasn’t a mistake. We were pulled into each other’s orbit for a reason.”

Jonah grimaced and looked down at his plate. When he looked up, his expression had turned sheepish. “You knew that was a Viv quote, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Kate shifted a little on the couch, conscious of his closeness, of the riskiness of this conversation.

“I didn’t realize it until hours later when we were on set and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Forgive me?”

“For what?”

“For quoting my ex-wife in bed with you.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Still, the apology meant a lot to her. That he’d even thought to offer it. “It’s natural she’d still be in your brain all the time. Natural, even, for you to still have feelings for her.”

There. She’d put it out there. She was treading on dangerous turf, but she had to test the water, didn’t she? To find out how Jonah might react to Viv’s pursuit. It was her job as a producer, for the future of the show.

“Denial is the worst form of ? —”

“Feelings?” Jonah bit into a spring roll and gave her a dubious look. “I hope you don’t mean that the way people usually mean it when they talk about having feelings for someone.”

“Would that be so far off the mark? You two were married, after all. You pledged to spend your lives together. You were so deliriously in love that you got matching infinity symbol tattoos.”

“God, I wish we hadn’t put that in the damn book,” he muttered. “Or gotten the damn tattoos in the first place. Actually, I take that back. The tattoo is pretty cool.”

“I know. I was admiring it the other night.”

Jonah sighed. “Kate. All those things you just said—the life plans, the marriage, the tattoos—the operative word in all of that is were . Past tense.”

His words flooded her with equal parts relief and guilt. What the hell was she doing here? Was this a fact-finding mission for Viv, or for herself?

“I’m just saying, don’t ever say never ,” she said carefully. “Things change. People change.”

“Jesus, Kate.” Jonah frowned and stabbed a big hunk of chicken. “You’re starting to sound like Viv.”

Kate would have found that flattering under normal circumstances, but she could tell he didn’t mean it as a compliment. She started to pick at a spring roll, but stopped when Jonah spoke again. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do.”

Kate felt her throat tighten. “What am I trying to do?”

“Reassure yourself that you didn’t betray your idol by sleeping with me,” he said. “But I can promise you there’s nothing between Viv and me anymore. Nothing but a reasonably cordial working relationship and a few good memories mixed with some not-so-good ones.”

“You’re positive?”

His eyes locked with hers, and Kate felt certain she’d never seen him look so earnest. “I am absolutely, positively, one million—percent sure that I will never reconcile with Vivienne Brandt,” he said. “It’s a certainty that eclipses any amount of certainty I felt when I said, ‘I do.’”

“Okay.” Kate swallowed and picked up her fork again. Guilt and relief swished around in her belly like oil and vinegar. Guilt from knowing Jonah’s certainty meant Vivienne’s heartache.

But relief because he’d misjudged why she’d been asking. He hadn’t guessed at her motive. More importantly, because it meant the man she was falling for wasn’t in love with someone else.

That counted for something, right?

Even if she couldn’t have him, even if they had no business sleeping together, at least she knew Jonah’s heart didn’t belong to someone else.

‘Someone else’ is Viv , she reminded herself. There went the guilt again.

She looked up again to see Jonah watching her. “I love spending time with you like this,” he said softly. “You know that? There’s no one else I’d rather share Thai food with.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, giving him a careful smile. “Are you going to eat that last spring roll?”

He laughed and picked up his beer. “Help yourself.”

She plucked it off his plate like they were old friends. Good friends. The kind of friends who shared spring rolls and old stories. Not the kind who shared anything else.

But as she bit into the spring roll and felt his eyes on her, felt her own body respond to his proximity, she knew that was a lie.

They could never be just friends.

It was almost eleven by the time Kate made it back to the hotel. As she slid her key card into the slot, she heard a door open across the hall.

“Kate.”

She turned to see Amy poking her head out of her room. Her face was bare, and she wore a serious expression, along with fuzzy pink pajama bottoms and an oversized black sweater.

“Hey, Amy,” Kate said carefully. “You’re up late.”

“So are you.” Amy slipped out the door and leaned against the wall, hands tucked up inside the sleeves of her sweater. “Pete texted as you guys were finishing up at the shelter a couple hours ago. Said filming went really well.”

“It did. Everything was great.” She waited for Amy to ask where she’d been in the hours since filming wrapped, but it was probably obvious. And it was obvious from the look on Amy’s face that she’d already guessed.

“I didn’t sleep with him again,” Kate blurted.

Amy smiled, but didn’t laugh. “I didn’t ask,” she said. “And I wouldn’t judge if you had. But I do need to talk to you about something.”

Kate glanced at her watch. If she went to sleep now, she’d still get six hours. That sounded heavenly. “Can it wait until morning?”

Amy shook her head. “No. It can’t, actually.”

Something in Amy’s tone, in the tenseness of her expression, made the skin prickle on Kate’s arms. This was more than a conversation about Chase Whitfield’s latest request. More than a briefing about drama between the test couples or a suggestion from Viv about the direction of the show.

Kate slipped the key card into the front pouch on her purse and turned to face Amy. Hopefully they could keep their voices down and get this over with quickly. “Okay, but let’s make it fast,” she said. “What’s up?”

Amy shook her head. “Not out here. This isn’t a conversation for the hallway. Let me grab my laptop and I’ll meet you in your room in two minutes.”

Kate sighed and tried not to be irritated. Building drama was part of Amy’s job. She couldn’t blame her for not flipping the switch after hours.

But she also knew whatever this was could wait. “Amy, I’m tired and I have to pee. Can you just spit it out now so we can?—”

“He’s married,” Amy said. “Jonah’s married.”

Kate’s blood went cold. She’d heard that expression before, but this time she was sure she felt flecks of ice pricking her veins from inside.

She grabbed hold of the door handle, unsure whether it was for balance or an urge to get away.

To duck into her room, burrow under her covers, and pretend she hadn’t heard those words.

He’s married.

Jonah’s married.

Amy watched, her expression wary. “Kate?”

She nodded, even though there’d been no question asked. But she knew Amy was right about one thing. This wasn’t a conversation for the hallway.

“Come on,” she said, fumbling for her key card again. “Come inside and tell me everything.”