Kat cocked her head, completely taken by this new information. Could the man be any more endearing?
“So, what do you think of the name?” he prompted.
“I think it suits him perfectly. Does this mean you’ll keep him if we can’t find his owner?” she asked hopefully.
“Maybe.”
Her heart sank at his noncommittal tone, and she wasn’t sure why it was suddenly so important to her that Jack kept him. After all, as long as Fitz went to a good home, it shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t as if she’d be around to visit.
With his brow furrowed deep in thought, Jack brought the mug to his lips.
Kat watched him intently, gauging his reaction.
After he took his first sip, his eyes widened. “Uh-oh.”
“What’s wrong?” She leaned forward, her pulse quickening. Did he hate it? Not everyone appreciated the subtle kick of cayenne and cinnamon.
“We have a problem,” he said, his eyes glinting with humor. “This is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted.”
She relaxed against the cushions, and the corner of her mouth quirked. “And that’s a problem?”
“It sure is.” He took another languid sip before explaining, “Sadie Hamilton is famous around here for her hot chocolate. I can’t tell her I prefer someone else’s.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” Her stomach fluttered, pleased by his response.
“You said a woman named Fern taught you how to make it?” he asked, disrupting her moment of contentment.
“Mm-hmm…” she mumbled evasively, burying her face in the mug of hot chocolate, nearly scorching the tip of her nose.
“You said she raised you?” he continued with a soft, tactful tone. “Were you adopted?”
She squirmed, wishing they could work on the puzzle in companionable silence instead. “No, not officially.”
To her relief, he didn’t press further. But he regarded her closely as he took another sip of the rich, sultry drink.
Kat shifted beneath his gaze, conflicted by the warmth and kindness reflected in the deep pools of blue. Suddenly, every instinct to avoid intimacy at all costs slipped away like a fragile wisp of steam. “My mom wasn’t around much during my childhood. We didn’t have what you’d call astable living situation.”
His features softened as he rested the mug on his knee, giving her his full attention.
Kat stared into her own cup, too self-conscious to look anywhere else. “We were in and out of a women’s shelter most of my life. And eventually, Hope Hideaway became my home. And Fern, the caretaker, became more like a mother to me than my own.”
“I’m so sorry. That must have been rough.”
She shrugged, touched and a little flustered by the compassion in his voice. “There are people who’ve experienced far worse. I was lucky to have Fern. Without her, I don’t know where I’d be.”
“You still keep in touch?”
“I live and work at the shelter now. My mom—” Kat hesitated. She hadn’t even shared this much with Penny. Perhaps she shouldn’t go any further. But then, she’d come this far. And somehow, opening up to Jack seemed to lift a heavy weight from her shoulders. She sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly before continuing. “My mother passed away my senior year. Fern took me in and made sure I graduated high school. Then, she offered me a job with room and board.” Her voice cracked and she quickly cleared her throat.
Without saying a word, Jack laid a hand on top of hers, squeezing gently. His rough calluses felt oddly reassuring, and she didn’t pull away.
“Fern sounds like an incredible woman,” he said kindly.
“She is.” Overcome with emotion, Kat felt her lower lip start to tremble.
Whatever you do, don’t cry.
Blinking against the stinging sensation at the backs of her eyes, she tried to think of something else—anything to deter the burgeoning tears.
