Page 135 of Fluke
Jess stands in the doorway in a pair of dark denim jeans and a crisp white T-shirt. His hair is wet like he just got out of the shower. The cologne I love so much lures me to him.
“Hi,” I say, my heart in my throat.
“Hi.” He looks me up and down. “Why are you still in your pajamas?”
“We had a conversation about this. I like to sleep in on the weekends.”
“We also had a conversation about this. Sunday dinners are nonnegotiable.”
What?
My body stills as I look at this beautiful man. His face is calm; no games are being played.So what does this mean?
“Come on, Pip. We have about an hour before we eat, and I was hoping to get your opinion on my closet before we go.”
“I …” I furrow my brow. “Your closet?”
He walks across the room and sits next to me at the table. He folds his hands on top near mine but not touching them.
“Jess, I’m confused.”
“About what?”
Is he serious? I don’t know how to verbalize it.
Isn’t he mad at me? Doesn’t he think I’m a brat? Is he disappointed in me but pretending we’re okay?
“You asked me for space,” he says. “So I gave it to you—I’m giving it to you. I left you alone Friday night and all day yesterday. It about killed me, but I did it.”
“But aren’t you …?”
He grins. “Aren’t I what?”
“Mad at me?”
His grin turns into a chuckle.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I say.
“I’m not laughing at you. You’re just too damn cute.”
My cheeks flush as relief creeps through my body.
He leans forward. “I told you I’ll give you what you want and what you need. You needed space. Cool. I mean, not cool—I hate it, but you don’t always get everything you want in life.”
I listen, afraid to speak.
“What did you think?” he asks, a smile flirting with his lips. “That we were over?”
Slowly, I nod.
His smile grows.
“I was afraid that it was over,” I say, my words wrapped with emotion.
“This willneverbe over for me.”
Tears flood my eyes.
