Page 22 of Snowflakes Over Starr's Fall
Jenna stepped closer to one of the maps to trace the line in red with one finger, impressed. These were not short journeys. “You sailed all the way from New York to Florida?”
Jack laughed softly, sounding both bemused and proud. “Yeah.”
Jenna turned to face him, even more impressed. “And you sail alone?” she clarified. That sounded brave… and lonely. Kind of like living in this house… but maybe Jack preferred it that way.
He nodded. “All my trips were solo.”
That took some skill, as well as courage. “Wow, I’m impressed,” she told him sincerely.
“Well, it was kind of my downtime. So I could get away from it all, you know, for just a few days.”
“Seriously. I guess when you decide to do something, you don’t do it by half.” He gave a slightly abashed, smiling sort of shrug that was kind of adorable. “So, what’s your next big trip?” she asked.
“Well, I don’t think there will be one,” he replied after a moment. “Not for a while, anyway. Can’t exactly sail solo for four or five days when you might keel over with a heart attack.” Jenna thought he’d tried to sound flippant, but he hadn’t quite managed it.
She frowned. A heart attack sounded way more serious than anything she’d been envisioning, although considering he’d been forced to retire, maybe she should have expected something like that. “I thought you’d had an ulcer?” she asked uncertainly.
“Well, that too, but trust me, there is nothing more boring than some worn-out middle-aged man droning on about his health problems, so…” Gently he touched her shoulder to steer her out of the room, and Jenna resisted the impulse to shiver under that light touch.
“I wouldn’t call you worn out,” she teased as they walked back to the foyer, sensing that Jack wanted the conversation back on lighter footing. “Especially since you’ve sailed around the world. Also Zoe informed me tonight that you made your first million when you were, like, eleven or something.”
He chuckled at that, which she was glad of. She realized she didn’t like seeing that look of sadness in his eyes, like some essential spark had gone out. “A little older than that, but all that’s in the past, so…” He shrugged his powerful shoulders. “Worn-out middle-aged man it is.”
“You still can’t convince me.” She realized she sounded flirtatious again, and she took a sip of wine to cover her own confusion. All right, she was attracted to this man, mainly because he was gorgeous and way more interesting than she’d first given him credit for. But beyond that? Did she even need to think beyond that, at least for now? Maybe she should just enjoy this evening for whatever it was… even if that felt kind of terrifying, all of a sudden.
“Do you want to see the upstairs?” Jack asked, with absolutely no innuendo in his voice, but Jenna blushed anyway. Considering the recent nature of her own thoughts, she didn’t think she could handle seeing Jack Wexler’s bedroom, even if she was intensely curious about it.
“Maybe later,” she said, and then realized howthatsounded. She could feel her face turning as red as her sweater.
Jack laughed softly, his blue, blue gaze moving slowly over her. “I’m guessing that didn’t come out the way you meant it to.”
“No,” she agreed with a shaky laugh as every part of her tingled, “and the unfortunate thing about being a redhead is your blush gives you away every time.”
“I like it,” Jack told her. His gaze was still resting on her, thoughtful but also… admiring? At least it felt like it, and it was making her blush all the more. “It’s like an emotional monitor.”
“Yeah, one I can’t control.”
“All the better,” he assured her. “A little honesty is refreshing. When I was working on Wall Street, everyone was so devious and manipulative, always out for the main chance. It was a seriously cutthroat world. I loved it, but now that I’ve been out of it for a little while… well, I still miss it, a lot even, but I wonder if I should.” He shrugged, seeming almost embarrassed by the admission, like he’d said more than he’d meant to. “Anyway, enough philosophizing,” he continued with a quick smile. “You came here to talk about business, right?”
Jenna made a face. “I think I’d prefer talking about philosophy.” And she wanted to learn more about him, because he really was far more interesting than she’d realized. “I have a suspicion you’re going to tell me my store sucks, and you’ll probably be right.” She sighed, feeling dispirited for the first time that night. As exciting as it was to have Jack look at her in admiration, and to feel like they were flirting, the truth remained… Miller’s Mercantile was going down the drain.
“I certainly wouldn’t say it like that,” Jack told her as they walked into the kitchen. He’d laid one end of the huge oak table for two, complete with plates, silverware, glasses, and linen napkins. It looked both intimate and elegant.
“Full disclosure,” he called back as he headed to the oven. “I didn’t feel, considering our history, that I could buy anything readymade at the deli in Litchfield, so I actually made dinner, which you might regret. I’m not a great cook. In fact, I’m not a cook at all. I strictly ate take-outs for most of my adult life.”
“You cooked?” Jenna was both touched and impressed. “I’m honored.”
“As long as I don’t give you food poisoning…” He took a covered cast-iron dish out of the oven and lifted the lid to eye its contents dubiously.
Jenna put her wineglass on one end of the enormous marble island. She was enjoying the sight of Jack Wexler with a pot in his hands, looking adorably uncertain. “What did you cook?”
“Mushroom barley risotto. I had a sudden crisis about whether you were vegetarian. And full disclosure, as I’ve droned on about before, I have to be careful about what I eat.” He grimaced, and she laughed softly.
“I eat everything, but risotto sounds delicious.” She really was touched that he’d cooked for her. It was just about the last thing she would have expected from what she’d thought Jack Wexler was.
He was surprising her in all sorts of ways tonight, and she’d only been here for half an hour. What, Jenna wondered with a thrill of anticipation, would the rest of the evening hold?
10
