“Thank you, Princess Evie,” I said, mimicking Jonah’s pinkie extension. “This tea is fantastic.”
Evie beamed, and I shot Jonah a bemused look.
A few minutes later, when Evie rubbed her eyes for the third time in a row, I excused us to put her to sleep. Jonah waited in the living room while I lay in bed, reading a bedtime story for Evie. She fell asleep before the story was done.
When I walked back, I found Jonah curled up on the couch. I joined him, resting my head against his shoulder.
“A rake, am I?” he asked, looking very much like he wanted to take me right then and there and prove it.
I laughed. “I needed a word Evie wouldn’t understand,” I said. “Though I was most surprised to see you playing tea party with Evie.”
Jonah gave me a gruff look. “There isn’t a man alive who can say no to her request for a tea party,” he insisted.
He tilted his chin to a picture of gramps and me that I’d placed on the bookshelf, next to other more recent pictures of Evie and me. With Gramps’ toothy grin, and my shining eyes, the love was real in that picture. “Is that your Grandad? The one you told me practically raised you?”
At that moment, my defenses weakened, and I leaned into him sideways.
“Yes,” I said, putting my arm around his waist and setting my head on his chest. “I was probably ten years old in that picture.”
“You look happy,” he said softly, his hand coming up to stroke my hair.
“I was. He made everything feel safe, you know?” I paused, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Even when things were falling apart between me and my mom, he was my constant.”
“He’d be proud of you now. Of the way you’ve built your life, and how you are with Evie.”
I looked up at him. “You think so?”
“I know so.” He kissed the top of my head. “That kind of love doesn’t disappear when the person’s gone. It becomes part of who you are.”
Looking up at him, with no pretenses but simple gratitude for the kindness he’d shown me and my daughter, I said, “Thank you, Jonah. It means a lot to me.”
That night, as we lay in bed, the two of us spent, but still naked and wrapped in each other’s arms, I chanced a glance at Jonah. He had spent the past twenty minutes after recovering from the latest orgasm, simply studying my body. He had kissed, licked and whispered things to the various little birth marks on my shoulder, the stretch marks on my belly, and the little freckles on my face.
It was adorable and more than a little intimate. As though he was memorizing my imperfections and approved of them, wholeheartedly.
When he dipped his head to kiss a small spot on the crook of my elbow, I sighed.
I couldn’t get this man.
He looked up at the sound, “What’s wrong?”
I traced my finger over his arm, feeling the hardness of his biceps. “You’re too used to keeping people at arm’s length, Jonah. You need your boundaries and personal space. I don’t. When I get close to people, I share everything I can with them,” I paused, meeting his eyes. “I-I struggle with that when it comes to us, and how you treat me.”
Jonah considered it. He turned on his side, propping his head up on his hand, looking like he was settling in for something serious.
“What do you want to know?”
It felt so flat, so uninspiring that I shook my head. “Nothing, forget I even said this,” I said, laying back down on the bed while Jonah scooted in closer to me, his gaze flicking between my eyes.
“I mean it. What do you want to know?”
“Well, you didn’t tell me about the women in your life,” I asked, trying to deflect some of his intense attention from me.
He took my hand in his free one, his expression stoic. “I don’t have women in my life,” he corrected.
I took a deep breath. There was still something nagging me at the back of my mind. “A few days ago, in the break room, I wanted to talk to you. But there was one woman with you in the break room that day. She was laughing and touching your arm. She didn’t seem like an employee. It seemed like you two were very close.”
“Oh, Jill.” His laugh made me sit up straighter.
