Page 30 of This Time Around (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #3)

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say to that.

There were a million way-too-intrusive questions she could pose, but she couldn’t imagine herself asking any of them out loud.

This was Jack’s history, and Caroline’s, too.

Allie had no right to expect him to fill in all the gaps for her, or to volunteer anything he didn’t share readily.

Jack leaned back on the couch, spreading his arms wide across the back of it. When he looked at her, there was something thoughtful in his expression. “I always wondered if we would have gotten married otherwise, you know?

The we threw Allie for a second, and she thought he was talking about the two of them. When she realized what he meant, she hoped he didn’t see any of that on her face. “You mean if Caroline would have married you if she hadn’t gotten pregnant?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But when Paige came along, it was amazing.”

“Really?” Allie bit her lip. “People always say a baby can drive a big wedge in a relationship. Especially when you’re young like that.”

“I know. We heard all the statistics and I was braced for it to be pretty tough. But it wasn’t like that with us. We loved being parents.”

“That’s wonderful.” Allie gulped back the lump in her throat, but it wouldn’t go down.

She tried forcing it with wine, keeping her gaze on the rim of the glass so she wouldn’t have to look Jack in the eye.

She breathed in the tangy, citrus scent of Pinot Gris until the sharp stabs of unspoken memory began to dull.

“So Paige was just a baby when her mom died?”

“Eighteen months.”

“It was a car accident?”

He nodded. “She was in the car alone. I’d stayed home with Paige so Caroline could go to some craft fair with her girlfriends. A guy blew through a stop sign when she was on her way home. She was dead before the ambulance even got there.”

“Jack.” Her chest squeezed tightly as she rested a hand on his knee. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” He picked up his wine and took a small sip.

“I’ve asked Paige if she remembers her mom at all.

She says she does, but I’m not sure that’s true.

Not that she’s lying or anything. I just wonder sometimes if she remembers the idea of her.

The stories I’ve told her or that her grandparents and Aunt Missy have shared. ”

Allie nodded, then noticed her hand was still on his knee. She drew it back, feeling foolish. Jack looked up and held her gaze for a moment. Then he shifted on the sofa, bringing him a few inches closer. Their knees were touching now, and it felt more intimate than any kiss they’d shared.

“Is it weird to hear this stuff?” he asked.

Allie started to shake her head, then changed directions, nodding just once. “Maybe a little. I don’t know. I guess I sometimes wondered what you’ve been up to all these years, but I mostly thought in terms of your job or where you might be living.”

“Not about my love life?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Not because I wasn’t interested or I didn’t care. I guess I just didn’t want to go there. It was easier to picture you frozen in time, sitting there on that futon with a bewildered look on your face.”

He laughed, even though he probably had every right to take offense at her response. He reached out to grab a cracker, and his arm brushed her knee, sending goose bumps all the way up her thigh.

“That’s funny. I’ve gotta admit, I was always pretty curious where you ended up. I could never find much online, but a friend of a friend told me you’d gotten engaged in law school. I guess I figured that was it.”

She nodded, and glanced down at the knee of her yoga pants. There was a frayed thread sticking out of the seam, and she thought about tugging on it, but changed her mind. No sense in unraveling everything.

“Yeah,” she said at last. “That didn’t really work out.”

“Have you ever been married?”

“No. Just engaged.” She hesitated, not sure how much to volunteer. Only four days ago, she’d been preparing to introduce a fake fiancé and crossing her fingers Jack didn’t know anything about her parents’ crimes. Was she really ready to let her guard down?

Then again, the guy had been baring his soul to her all evening. It hardly seemed fair to offer platitudes in return. She looked up to see him studying her with interest.

Allie took a deep breath. “I got engaged three times.”

His brows shot up. “No kidding?” He must have sensed her bristling, because he softened his expression to one with a lot less judgment. “So, three times counting me?”

Allis shook her head as heat crept into her cheeks. “Four times, counting you.”

“Wow.”

A flicker of defensiveness flared in her chest with that single, disapproving syllable. Or maybe she was reading too much into it. She was readying a retort, but he beat her to the punch.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I mean, that’s not the same as being married four times.”

“Right.” Her voice sounded tight, but she hoped she’d kept the shame out of it.

“I guess I’m just surprised.”

“That I had so many engagements, or that I never followed through on them?”

“Both, I guess. I mean, I guess I always assumed you’d be married by now.” He seemed to hesitate. “Do you mind if I ask why you’re not?”

Allie shrugged, oddly nervous now that he was the one asking the questions.

“The guy after you I met in law school, and he forgot to mention he had another girlfriend on the side. The next guy was sweet and smart and had everything going for him, but we got into this big fight when we went shopping for our first piece of furniture together?—”

“A loveseat?” He offered a small smile, and she couldn’t tell if he was teasing or just trying to lighten the mood.

“An ottoman,” she said.

“Damn ottomans. They’ll get you every time.”

Allie forced a smile and took a small sip of wine. “Anyway, it became clear we had different ideas on conflict resolution.”

“So you split up over an ottoman?”

“It wasn’t just the ottoman.” She struggled to find the right words. “It was a major disconnect in the way we each approached disagreement. It was about respecting each other’s differences and how our lifestyles fit together.”

“That’s a lot to assign to an ottoman.”

Allie sighed. “It just wasn’t the right fit.”

“Okay.” Jack nodded, seeming to digest that. “What about the next guy? What went wrong there?”

She looked down at her wineglass, wondering why she hadn’t mentioned this before. Wondering if she should have mentioned it before now.

“I already told you,” she said slowly. “Wade and I had zero chemistry.”