Page 29 of The Making of Marnie Jones

She leaned forward to place a kiss on the toddler’s forehead and jumped when Mira made a grab for her sunglasses and pulled them from her face. Even in the shade, the sun was bright, and Marnie’s eyes ached. She squinted and pointed to the sunglasses. “Sweetheart, may I have those back?”

“No.” Even as Mira spoke, she pulled the arm of the glasses into her mouth.

“Please?”

The toddler’s brown eyes narrowed. “No.”

Deciding a bit of discomfort—her eyes were now watering—was a small price to pay to keep a child happy, she gave up the fight. Hopefully, when Rusty returned, she might get her precious glasses back.

Chapter twelve

Jakewasn’tsurehebelieved his eyes. Marnie, some guy, and a baby.What the hell?In all his research, and during all his conversations with Mrs. Grant, he’d never once considered Marnie might be married. With a baby, no less.

Here he was, asking her to drop everything to come with him to Toronto, and she had a family, for Christ’s sake. Why hadn’t she said something before now? Something likegee, as much as I want to help, my husband and daughter have to take precedence in my life. Jake was, of course, willing to bring all of them back with him if it meant a chance for Olivia to meet Marnie, but this certainly complicated things. He’d come to The Junction to get a few supplies because his motel didn’t have room service—but he hadn’t expected to run into Marnie.

Yet even as he watched her, feeling like a voyeur, something seemed off. She was smiling, but the smile was tight. She gripped her drink in one hand and her purse in the other, as if afraid to touch or be touched. And although she favored the pint-sized girl with little grins, she clearly held herself apart from her husband. There was no affection, no…connection. They might’ve been strangers. But who said there needed to be public displays of affection? She said she never wanted Jake to touch her, and it’d been abundantly clear she feared physical connection. He assumed all men made her skittish, but that was a sweeping assumption.You know better.He was good at reading people, though, and obviously she was uncomfortable. Pain lanced through him, and empathy overwhelmed him. It hurt to see her like this. He wanted to see her happy. Genuine smiles, relaxed in her surroundings. Not this perpetually skittish and, he suspected, anxious woman.

Her gaze roamed over the patio.

Though he couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, he recognized the exact moment she spotted him.

She tensed further, if that was possible.

He gave her a brief wave and she reciprocated, although there was no enthusiasm in her action. Her husband noticed and gave Jake a cursory once-over, his brow creasing in confusion. Did he know who Jake was? Had she told him about his pursuit of her—to get her to come to Toronto?

He’d gain nothing by standing in the middle of the parking lot, so he approached the table.

Marnie rose first, her husband quickly following suit. “I didn’t expect to see you.” Her voice was high, and her body as tight as a bowstring. “I assumed you’d gone home.”

“I haven’t.” He stated the obvious, gauging her reaction. “I guess I still hoped to persuade you.”

“Persuade…?” The husband spoke.

For a long moment, Jake met the man’s gaze. Odd, there was more curiosity than concern. More interest than jealousy or protectiveness. The man was most definitely not an alpha male. Instead, Jake pegged him as a man at ease with life—not easily ruffled.

Marnie cleared her throat. “Where are my manners?” She pointed to her husband. “Rusty, this is Jake McGrath. Jake, this is Rusty Stevens.” There was a slight hesitation as she looked back and forth between the men. “Rusty is my friend. His daughter Mira participates in the Toddlers-and-Books program at the library.”

Could she look less comfortable?

Friend?Wow, read that wrong. Relief swept over him. Not only that he had made the incorrect assumption, but that he still had an accurate read on her. Rusty was afriend, and yet she wasn’t at ease with him. So, did that mean she was uncomfortable with all men? And did Rusty want more than friendship with her? For that matter, where was Mira’s mother? How did she factor into this little domestic scene?

Rusty looked back and forth between Jake and Marnie, as if finally sensing the undercurrent between the two of them. “Mr. McGrath, why don’t you join us?”

“It’s Jake.” He tried to keep the relief from his voice. “I don’t want to intrude. I wanted to ask Marnie if she might come to dinner with me tonight.”

“I can’t.” A quick and decisive answer. She still gripped her purse with both hands, knuckles white.

“Perhaps tomorrow night?”Desperate much?Only a few days remained in Olivia’s psychiatric hold.

Marnie’s expression silently pled with Rusty, obviously wishing he’d intervene, but he seemed oblivious to her unspoken entreaty. Finally, she gave in. “Okay, Jake, I’ll have dinner with you.”

He pounced. “May I pick you up after work?”

“Never going to happen.” Her tone was icy, and Rusty seemed to finally take note of her discomfort. She pointed across the parking lot. “See that restaurant over there? White Spot? I’ll meet you there at five-fifteen.”

He’d take whatever he could get, despite her obvious reluctance. “Five-fifteen,” he confirmed. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Rusty. You have a beautiful daughter.” A daughter who was snoozing quietly, her little mouth open on a sigh. He didn’t know much, actually he didn’t know anything about children, but, honestly, Mira was a cute kid. And she was sleeping, which was a bonus.

He caught the ghost of something passing over Marnie’s lips.Busted. Clearly she knew exactly what was on his mind. With a quick wave, he headed over to the grocery store.

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