Page 96 of Someone to Tempt
“You’re my grumpy sister, and I love you. If leaving Skylark is what you want, fine. I’ll support you. But if you think you can be happy in this town, I want that for you too.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” he counters.
“Thanks for your support.”
“Admit you love it here.”
“I love it here,” I mutter.
“You want to stay.”
“Maybe.” I don’t know what I want yet, but I’m damn sure going to figure it out. Maybe staying in Skylark really could be an option?
“I’m the best brother you could ever imagine.”
I smile and hand him the last of my milkshake. “The very best. Your animal is a capybara.”
“The giant rodents from South America?” He tilts his head, a slight smile curving his lips. “I can accept that. Now, do you want to talk about the fact that you’re in love with Jake Byrne?”
“Ye—” I punch him in the arm even as my heart lurches. “You aren’t getting me to admit that.”
“You don’t need to. For once, the emotions are written all over your face.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Between the mess I’ve made with Jake and the election fiasco, my situation here feels hopeless, but is it? Is anything truly hopeless if I have hope? I consider the possibilities—following Jake when he inevitably leaves, or begging him to stay. Neither feels right, but the thought of letting him walk away feels even worse.
“Stop saying that.”
“Can we stop talking altogether and watch some mindless TV?” I ask weakly. I need to stop thinking for a while. My brain and heart are too mixed up to figure out how my life unraveled so quickly and what I can do to fix it.
He flips through the channels, finally landing onThe Office.
“You and Jake are like Pam and Jim.”
I snort. “Not in any way.”
“I totally see it.” He gives me a sideways glance. “The slow burn and banter.”
“You’re stupid,” I mutter, settling deeper into the couch.
Nick nudges me with his elbow. “All that undeniable chemistry.”
I snort like he’s an idiot, but hope blooms deep in my soul. I’d like to believe I might get a Pam and Jim-worthy happily-ever-after. And just maybe—once the dust settles—I can have it with Jake.
35
IRIS
I slinkinto the office around noon the following day, assuming I’ll find it empty since Jodi is a regular at a lunch-hour Pilates class at the local studio. Only, I hear voices when I walk into the reception area. And they’re coming from my office.
Daniel Pearson jumps about ten feet when I open the door, the bag of chips he tossed in the air raining potato snowflakes all over the carpet in front of my desk.
“I thought you were sick,” Jodi says from where she sits in my chair.
There’s no apology from her, no scrambling to vacate the seat behind my desk… which nearly makes me laugh. I stand in the doorway like I’m the one who doesn’t belong. And in a lot of ways, that’s true.
“I thought you did Pilates on Tuesdays.”
