Page 125 of A Matter of Time

He nodded slowly. “That’s right.”

I stepped back away from him. “Your old man really likes me. I am not gonna be the one to give him even a second of misery.”

He gave me a funny look. “Baby, you’re jumping the gun a little, aren’t you? Shouldn’t we screw around before we decide if you’re gonna be the one I’ll bring home to my folks?” The last was finished with a chuckle as he grabbed hold of the lapel of my coat.

Apparently, I did that a lot—jumped the gun because I thought a bit too much of myself. I’d done the same with Sam Kage.

Quickly, I brushed his hand off me before I jogged back into the living room. I went to kiss Bette goodbye, and it was nice that she begged me to stay longer. Truman got up and pulled me into a brief clench before he thanked me for coming and made me promise not to be a stranger. Colton and Cretia both gave me their numbers, and Channing told me to call her the following day so she could get my address to invite me to her wedding. It was nice that they all wanted to include me. My phone vibrated, and I excused myself to answer it.

“Jory.”

“Hey, boss.” I smiled into the phone.

“Are you still in Highland Park?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I’m in Parkridge, so if you want, I’ll come by and pick you up on my way back.”

Which translated to “I’m coming to get you” because he never offered unless he’d already decided what he was doing. He wasn’t hardwired to make overtures; if he ever made a suggestion, the answer just needed to be yes.

“Certainly,” I said quickly. “Lemme give you the address.”

“I have it. The man is my client, after all.”

“Yessir.”

“Knock it off.”

I smiled wide and realized, as usual, that just talking to him brought up this bubbly feeling in me. I had family after all—he was it. “You want me to wait outside?”

“Yes, Jory, stand outside and freeze your ass off.”

I laughed, and people looked at me as I hung up and sat back down on the couch beside Bette.

“You’re going to stay?”

“My boss is coming to get me, so I’ll stay a little longer.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to meet Dad’s architect,” Cretia squeaked out. “He speaks so highly of him.”

“Jory, may I speak to you?” Trip called to me from the kitchen.

I got up, and when the door swung closed behind me, I saw him leaning against the counter, ankles crossed, arms crossed, waiting.

“Yes?”

“That was stupid, what I said before, and your concern for my dad is actually really refreshing.” The corner of his mouth curled with a trace of a smile. “So I’m asking again—may I please take you out?”

I looked at him, trying to decide whether I liked him or not. Aesthetically there was no reason to say no. The man was very nice to look at. With clear hazel eyes, thick dark brown hair and a lean, muscular frame, he was definitely my type. The problem was he had “player” written all over him, and I wasn’t trying to be another notch in anyone’s bedpost.

“I don’t think so.” I said it slowly because it wasn’t what I really wanted to say. It was the smart thing to do, though. “I think you’re outta my league, Doctor Ward.”

He nodded and pushed off the counter, walking toward me. “If I promise to just feed you, not even try and kiss you? How ’bout then?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I grinned lazily.

He bit his bottom lip. “Listen, Jory, how ’bout you take me out? You name the place and I’ll be there. You can pay and everything.”