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I sniffed and turned to him. “This room reminds me of something my mom always used to say.”

“What?”

“Un hombre que puede mantener viva una planta tiene la paciencia de aguantar tus mierdas. It means ‘A man who can keep a plant alive has the patience to put up with your shit.’”

He smiled.

“I’ve never heard you speak Spanish,” he said. “It’s very beautiful.”

I don’t know why, but this made my cheeks heat a little. Maybe because the way he looked at me when he said it felt like he was telling me I was beautiful. And I liked that very much. Because, looking around this house, Jacob knew beautiful when he saw it.

He looked at his watch. “We should probably get going.” But he didn’t move from the door.

The fun part of the evening was over. We were moving on to stage two, the main event. Three solid hours of socializing.

And Amy.

He was nervous. And probably a little heartsick. Having to watch his ex celebrate her engagement to his brother while everyone looked on to see if he’d die of a broken heart wasn’t going to be easy.

“Do you need a hug?” I asked.

He drew his brows down. “What?”

“You look like you need a hug. Can I hug you?”

We usually didn’t touch unless it was part of the ruse, smoke and mirrors for an audience. But nobody was here to see this, and I honestly didn’t know if he’d even let me.

He gave me one of his quiet pauses. And then he nodded. “Yes.”

I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around him. “I am here for you,” I whispered. “We’ll get through this together and everything will be okay.”

He responded by hugging me back. He tucked my head under his chin, and I felt his hands draw me closer. A warm, firm cage that I didn’t want out of. And he must not have wanted out either because that tiny hourglass of appropriate hug time between family and friends ran out and we just…stayed.

And I let myself melt into it.

He was solid. Strong. But also soft somehow, like you could crash into him and not get hurt. The pulse of his neck beat against my cheek. The scent of his skin so near teased me and something warm tingled inside of me at the feel of his body held to mine.

All I could think about was how close his bedroom was. How all I had on under this dress was a thin G-string and an easily removed strapless bra.

I could feel his breath tickle my shoulder. His mouth was right there.

I wondered if he wanted to touch me. If he thought about it too. If he liked the way I smelled, and looked, and felt pressed against him.

Or maybe for him it was exactly what it was supposed to be. Nothing but a platonic arrangement.

Worse.

Maybe when I touched him, he wished I was her.

It was enough to snap me out of it, and I pulled away first.

When I let him go, his hands slid from my back down to my waist and we stood there like that for a fraction of a second. I cleared my throat and took another step. His hands fell away from me.

“Ready?” I asked, my voice a touch too high.

He peered at me, studying my face for a moment. Then he nodded. “Ready.”

Chapter 23