Page 38 of One More Time

“Do you want to come in?”

When Jack hesitated and looked away, I took a breath and ignored the rush of disappointment.

“Yes, but you need to know something.”

“What’s that?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jack

Against my better judgment, we stood outside of McKenna’s house. The air had a bite of icy cold to it.

When McKenna shivered a little, curling her shoulders forward, I reflexively reached for her. “Maybe we could talk inside?”

A moment later, she was slipping out of her coat. “Let me turn up the heat,” she said as she kicked off her boots. She padded across the living room to the thermostat by the bathroom door.

“Do you want to start a fire?”

“Sure, you just—” She began when I walked over to the switch by the fireplace.

“Turn this on,” I offered with a wink. The propane flames flickered on.

She grinned just as Snowy leaped down from the top of the refrigerator. McKenna leaned down to pet her before the kitten made her way over to inspect me. When I stroked her back, a purr rumbled from her throat. She didn’t dally, though, and meandered over to the windows overlooking the street and hopped up to sit on the windowsill.

“Snowy loves it there,” McKenna offered. “She likes watching anything that moves.”

“Most cats do.”

“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked.

“Are you having anything?”

She opened her refrigerator, peering inside. “Maybe. I have juice, water, and honey blueberry mead. No beer.”

“If you’re having mead, I’ll take some.”

McKenna approached the living room a moment later, handing me a bottle. “Sit.” She gestured to the couch.

“I’ll have to find some of my own furniture when I move into my house,” I commented. “Don’t suppose you’ll let me take the furniture with me.”

She chuckled as she shook her head.

“I love these couches. They’re seriously comfortable.”

“I can tell you exactly where we get them. I’ll have Sandy let you know.”

“The Sandy who was on vacation when I looked at my place?”

“That’s the one.”

“That would be great. I just want comfortable furniture, and I hate shopping.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” McKenna replied with a quick smile.

“Why are you in one of your family’s rentals?” I couldn’t help my curiosity.

McKenna took a swallow of her mead, temporarily distracting me. My gaze lingered on her lips as she drew the bottle away. Her tongue slid across her delectable bottom lip before she replied, “We relocated the headquarters for Fireweed Industries back here only a few years ago. I handle public relations, so I was in Seattle. We’ve always had the winery, the brewery, and the restaurant here. I just haven’t gotten around to sorting out whether I want to build or buy a place. My mother, of course, offered to let me stay in the house where we grew up, but—” Her lips twisted to the side, and she shrugged. “I love my mother, but I want my own space.” She swept a hand in an arc. “These houses are nice.”

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