Page 43 of At the Heart of It (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #4)

“Actually, I think you’re onto something.” He took another sip of beer, enjoying the cool tart of the ale and the warm sweetness of Kate’s company and the pleasant way those two things mingled. “She hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

“Your sister?”

“Yeah. She asked if it was too late to trade me in and have you as a sibling instead.”

Kate laughed. “That’s sweet.”

“That’s Jossy. She either loves you or hates you. There’s not much in between.”

He watched as Kate seemed to hesitate. She sat poised with her cornbread above the bowl, but didn’t take a bite. “Did she and Viv get along well?”

“They didn’t fight, if that’s what you mean.”

“It wasn’t exactly what I meant. I guess I was just curious if they were close.”

“Not close,” he said. “I know you’re the president of the Dr. Vivienne Brandt fan club, but my sister?—”

“Not so much?” Kate took a bite of cornbread.

“She used to call her Snobby McBitcherson.”

Kate laughed, then started choking on cornbread crumbs. Jonah stood up and whacked her on the back a few times, grateful for any excuse to touch her.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. God, I’m such a jerk. I shouldn’t laugh at other people’s expense. That’s karma right there.”

“Cornbread karma?”

“Exactly.” She set the cornbread down and picked up her bottle of beer.

Jonah watched her drink, relishing the pleasure on her face. He flashed on a memory of that same look in a different setting. Kate naked and arching beneath him, crying out as he drove into her.

God, he wanted her again. Maybe when this stupid show was all over?—

“We haven’t really talked beyond the first season,” he said, picking up his beer again. “You said before that the first season would be fourteen episodes, but what happens after that?”

“If the show is a success?” Kate shrugged and dunked another piece of cornbread in her bowl. “We hope for as many seasons as we can get.”

“What’s normal?”

“It’s anyone’s guess, really. But you look at shows like Survivor or The Bachelor that have been going for thirty or even fifty seasons—that’s what everyone hopes for.”

Jonah felt a sick twist in his stomach. Is that really what everyone hoped for?

Then he thought about the money. About what cash like that could buy for Jossy. Even if he only did the first season or two, maybe that would be enough.

He took another sip of beer, considering the options. “Do characters sometimes leave after a couple of seasons?”

Kate lifted one brow and chewed her cornbread. “You’re thinking of quitting before we get started?”

“Just wondering how things usually work. If characters shift around much on a reality-TV show like this.”

She studied him a moment, then nodded. “Sometimes,” she said carefully. “Are you not happy with the way things are going?”

“It’s fine,” he said, not sure how much more he should say. “You guys are great. The whole crew has been terrific to work with. It’s just—I guess I never really imagined myself on TV.”

“Is it the television aspect you don’t like, or the part about working with your ex?”

He shrugged. “Working with Viv hasn’t been that bad,” he said. “I have to admit, I’ve remembered some of the things I liked about her.”

Was it his imagination, or did something change in her expression?

She covered it quickly, taking a slow sip of beer.

Maybe he’d imagined it. Or maybe she was just happy to have him not bitching about Viv.

He should probably do more to be a team player.

To assure Kate he didn’t see his ex-wife as the antichrist.

“What sort of things?” Kate asked with such practiced casualness, he suspected it was forced.

“We had a good chemistry,” he said. “We made each other laugh. I remember this one time we went camping in Utah.”

“Utah?”

“Mesa Verde,” he said. “Viv wanted to see the Anasazi ruins, so we spent a week backpacking around the area.”

“Right, I remember. She wrote about that in On the Other Hand . The reverence she felt crawling around the prehistoric cliff dwellings. It sounded like a great trip.”

Jonah felt a flare of frustration he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t like he hadn’t consented to have his vacations, his conversations, his life turned into a self-help book.

But he’d always wanted to hold a few things back.

“It was a great trip,” he agreed. “I think my favorite part was this day it rained for like six hours. We couldn’t leave the tent at all.”

“I’m not sure I want to hear this,” Kate murmured as she took a sip of beer.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” he said. “Not exactly, anyway. We just stayed in the tent all day and made up silly games.”

“Like what?”

“Like we tried to come up with a body part for every letter of the alphabet,” he said. “Whoever came up with an answer had to kiss that part on the other person’s body. It’s not as sexy as it sounds— A for ankle, B for brain, C for collarbone—that sort of thing.”

Kate laughed, though Jonah could have sworn he saw a flash of sadness in her eyes. “Some of those must have been tough,” she said. “What did you do for X and U ?”

“Viv got xiphoid process,” he said. “She took a lot of anatomy classes in college.”

“What’s that?”

“Breastbone,” he said, tapping his knuckles against his own sternum. “I tried to convince her to kiss my uvula.”

“I’m afraid to ask,” Kate said. “My anatomy knowledge is a little rusty.”

“The little dangly part at the back of the throat.”

“Ick.”

Jonah laughed and scooped up a spoonful of chili. “We settled for a peck on the ulna,” he said. “That’s the bone in the forearm.”

“Sounds like you had fun together,” Kate said. There was a wistfulness in her tone. “Why didn’t you include that in the book?”

“I didn’t want to,” he said. “I liked the idea of holding a few things back. Keeping some things private, just the two of us.”

“That sounds like real intimacy.”

“I suppose so,” he said.

“Do you miss it?”

He noticed she said it , not her , and he sensed it was a deliberate choice. That it was the latter she really wanted to ask about. “I miss intimacy sometimes,” he said. “Having someone to curl up with in bed at night, talking until we both fall asleep.”

She looked at him oddly. “So what if you could have that again? If you could have it all back?”

“I will. Someday, I mean.”

Kate swirled a hunk of bread in her bowl and didn’t meet his eyes. “With Viv?”

“Christ, no!” That came out a little harsher than he meant it to, and Kate gave him a startled look. Reminding himself to tread carefully, Jonah dialed it back a notch. “She’s a terrific person, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure she’ll find someone else someday. Someone who’s not me.”

“Oh.” Kate took a sip of beer, making it tough for him to read her expression. “I guess that’s—good. For both of you. Right?”

He picked up a piece of cornbread and studied her face. “Why do you keep asking about that?”

“About what?”

“About Viv and me? About whether there’s any chance we’d ever rekindle things?”

“No reason.” She held his gaze, but something in it seemed off. He wasn’t sure what, but he had a sense she was hiding something.

“As a TV producer, I’m supposed to ferret out the stories,” she added.

“There’s no story there.”

“Still. I’m supposed to ask tough questions.”

“That’s not a very tough one. Try again.”

“What?”

“I mean asking whether I’d ever get back with Viv is like asking whether I think I’ll ever give up the bookstore and join the circus. Did I mention I hate clowns?”

She smiled a little at that and took a sip of beer. “So what’s an actual tough question?”

“Something important. Something thought-provoking.”

Kate dabbed a cornbread crumb off the edge of her plate and licked it off her finger. “Example?”

He thought about it. “Like if I had to drink eight ounces of someone else’s saliva, whose saliva would I choose?”

Kate laughed, and Jonah admired the faintest hint of a dimple on her left cheek. God, she was beautiful.

“That’s your idea of a tough question?” Kate asked.

“You’ve gotta admit, it’s a difficult one. Do you go with a family member or a lover? Considering how much tonsil hockey a couple might play over a lifetime, you probably do consume about a cup of saliva if you really think about it.”

She gave him a pained look, but she was still smiling. “I’d rather not think about it.”

“Okay, here’s another tough question,” he said. “If you could give one person in the world the biggest, most uncomfortable wedgie imaginable, who would you pick and why?”

“This is a real question?” She seemed to consider it, though, twirling her beer bottle on the table as she watched it with a thoughtful look. “John Peckenham.”

“Who’s John Peckenham?”

“My boyfriend when I was twelve years old. He broke up with me at recess and then told everyone I kissed like a goldfish. For months afterward, everyone went around making fish faces at me.”

“If it’s any comfort, you don’t kiss like a goldfish.”

“Thank you.” She grinned. “I’ve had time to practice.”

Jonah desperately wanted to ask for a demonstration, but knew they shouldn’t start down that path again. Even if they wanted to. Even if he desperately, urgently wanted to touch her just one more time?—

“Okay, here’s another tough question,” he said. “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever done in front of a mirror?”

She laughed and grabbed another piece of cornbread. “I’ve read Our Bodies, Ourselves . I’m not ashamed to admit I straddled that mirror like a pro and figured out what was what. I think I was in college.”

Jonah laughed, not wanting to admit how sexy he found that image. “How very enlightened of you.”

“I try.” Kate nibbled a piece of cornbread and looked thoughtful. “My turn to ask one.”

“Fire away.”

She scrunched up her face the way she always did when she was pondering something. Jonah wanted to reach out and trace a finger over the lines in her forehead.

“Tell me the most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing,” she said at last.

“Trying to stick my dick in the vacuum cleaner,” he answered without hesitation. Kate’s look of surprise made him think he should have hesitated just a little. “I was eleven or twelve years old and had just learned what a blow job was. Suffice it to say, it didn’t work out well for me.”

“Oh my God! Did you get hurt?”

“No. But I did require a little outside assistance to extricate myself.”

Kate burst out laughing, shaking her head as she smeared her bread through the last of her chili. “You’re nuts.” She snorted and popped the bite into her mouth. “No pun intended.”

“I haven’t done it recently,” he pointed out. “I am capable of learning from my mistakes.”

“I’m sure you are. I didn’t mean to sound judgmental.”

“Now you have to volunteer your own sexual mishap,” he said. “While we’re on the subject.”

He expected her to balk or change the subject. But she surprised him. “Anton—that was my last boyfriend?—”

“I know,” Jonah said, biting back a flare of jealousy he knew he wasn’t entitled to. “You’ve mentioned him a few times.”

“Right, of course. Sometimes he’d text me in the middle of the day and ask me to send him a sexy pic.”

“Typical guy.”

“You’ve done it?”

“Probably.”

Kate laughed, not looking too perturbed. “I could have refused, but it seemed like a pretty harmless way to spice things up,” she said. “Then again, it’s tough to feel sexy when you’re sitting on the toilet in the ladies room yanking your boobs out of your bra between meetings.”

“Is this supposed to be turning me on?”

She grinned, but ignored him. “Anyway, this one time I was in a hurry, so I snapped this really quick up-skirt photo while I was sitting at my desk eating lunch.”

“Hot,” he said, not caring that he sounded like Average Joe.

“Not quite. I went to text it to Anton, but instead of hitting the message icon, I hit the icon right above it. The one that says, ‘Tap to Share with AirDrop.’”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. And since I was at work, the AirDrop user closest to me was the person in the next office.”

“God.” Jonah shook his head. “Was it your boss?”

“Thankfully, no. It was Amy. She still teases me about it sometimes.”

Jonah laughed and picked up his beer. God, he loved this. Not the dirty story swap, though that was fun, too. He loved sitting here with her like this, laughing together at themselves and each other. Not caring about showing each other their very best sides, but letting their silliness show, too.

This is real intimacy.

He almost said it out loud, but stopped himself. It didn’t seem like the right thing to say. Not now, not with what they’d agreed.

Still, he felt closer to her. Did she feel it, too? He looked in her eyes, and felt sure he had his answer. There was an intensity there that made his chest ache. A longing he knew matched his own.

“Kate—”

“I should let you get home.” She stood up fast, nearly sending her chair toppling. She righted it and began stacking paper plates and bowls into a pile, arranging the plastic utensils in the top bowl. She wasn’t meeting his eyes, so he stepped forward and touched the side of her face.

“Kate,” he said again, softer this time. She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes at last, and the urgency in her gaze made his chest feel tight.

Then his lips were on hers, gentle at first, waiting to see if she’d respond. She did respond, kissing him back with a hunger that sent his pulse racing. She tasted like hops and honey and something unbearably sweet.

He tunneled his fingers into her hair, while his other hand still cupped the side of her face. Deepening the kiss, he knew this went beyond lust. Beyond desire. In thirty-six years, he’d never felt such a deep-seated longing to connect with another human.

He broke the kiss, but didn’t let go of her. Looking deep into her eyes, he knew she felt this, too. “Please,” he whispered. “Let me make love to you again. Just once more.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Desire, yes, but something else. If she said no, he’d accept it. He’d walk away and never ask again. But holy mother of hell it was going to hurt.

The silence stretched out so long he began to count his own heartbeat. Or was that hers? They were pressed against each other, chest to chest, heart to heart.

“We shouldn’t,” she whispered.

“I know.” He tried to step back, but something held him there.

Maybe it was Kate’s palms pressing against his shoulder blades, but it felt more than physical.

“It’s okay.” He meant it as a reassurance that he was fine walking away.

That he could step back and exit the room with his pants zipped, his job safe, his heart intact.

But the longing in Kate’s eyes was unmistakable. She didn’t let go. She took a shaky breath that made everything ache in the center of Jonah’s chest.

“No, I need this,” she whispered, and kissed him again.