Page 118 of The Making of Marnie Jones

Still too fragile.

At least this couch was long enough to sleep on.

***

“Jake.” A gentle nudge to his shoulder. “Jake.”

He stirred. Opening his eyes, he gazed into Marnie’s. Well, since she was backlit from the hallway light, the deep green orbs were shadowed.

Instantly, he was awake. “Marnie.” His mind raced. “Are you okay?” His face was mere inches from her as she knelt beside him.

“There's a bed in the spare room. Although it's a single, it’ll be more comfortable.”

He gave a sleepy grin. “The spare bedroom? I like this couch.” He met her gaze.What are you thinking? How are you doing? What can I say that won’t trigger you?“Is it okay I stayed?”

She favored him with a genuine smile. “I'm glad you stayed.” Pushing off her knees, she stood. “Can I get you a glass of water?”

“Do you have orange juice?”

“I do.”

“What time is it?” He stood and stretched.

“After midnight. Is Olivia home? “

He trailed her into the kitchen. “Yeah, she came in a few minutes before eleven and went to her room.” He accepted the glass of juice. “I met Tristan.”

“What was your impression of him?”

He pondered the question. “Respectful. I guess he was okay. Olivia seems to like him.”

“We’ve been acquaintances for four years, and he's a good guy. He'll be good for her.”

“What about you, Marnie? Who would be good for you?”

“You. You might be good for me.” Strength with some resolve.

Let her come to you.“What’re you saying?”

She drew a deep breath. “You're going to make me say it, aren't you?”

He nodded.

“Despite the fact there are three thousand miles between us, I want you to be the one.” She extended her hand and he grasped it. “I want you to show me how it can be. God, this is embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing, but necessary.” He moved to tug her closer. “I want us to be on the same page. And, by the way, we're no longer three thousand miles apart.”

“No, I guess we’re about a foot apart.”

Tilting his head, he grinned. “Starting Monday, I'm the new Vancouver correspondent with the national newscast.”

“How?” Her eyes were wide open, her expression one of shock.

“Jessica. Or rather, her network.” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “When I was on suspension, and then taking a break, I had a lot of time to reflect. I no longer trusted my network because they didn't have to run the story. They did because of ratings. I also don't want to go overseas again soon because Olivia needs me to be close, and I need to be close to her. Jessica called in a favor and got me an interview. The Vancouver correspondent had taken a weekend anchor position with my network, so the timing worked perfectly.”

“Sounds convoluted.” She met his gaze, her eyes alight. “But, if I understand you correctly, you’re moving to Vancouver.”

He again tilted his head. “My SUV is out front, filled with all my worldly belongings.”

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