Page 46 of The Refusal

And I take in the tousled hair, crumpled blue T-shirt and the stubble on his jaw where he’s not shaved this morning, and the urge to go on tiptoes and place my mouth against his is almost unstoppable. I wrench my eyes away and blurt out the first thing I can think of to stop the blush building like a clarion call.

“Are we still planning to code?”

I need to distract myself from the view, the awesomeness of the space, Janus’s unrelenting cuteness and, my God, his parents! I might explode with trying to appear normal.

Janus moves forward, mumbling under his breath something that sounds a lot like “We are definitely coding unless you’ve got any other ideas?”

At this comment, I can’t stop the heat that creeps up into my cheeks as we come fully into the apartment past a glorious light-wood kitchen. Sunlight cuts across the floor, casting a glow over an older couple who are sitting forward expectantly on a large gray sofa, one of three that are arranged around a modern, swirling rug, the windows and view providing a glorious backdrop. The man is gray-haired and handsome, a pair of thick tortoiseshell glasses resting on his nose; the woman in jeans and a soft smokey sweater, short dark brown hair tousled on her head. They are both looking at me open-mouthed, and as I smile, Janus’s mom’s face dissolves into the widest, happiest smile I’ve seen in a long time.

“Mom, Dad. This is Jo, she works for a firm that is working on our security.” His voice is tight, clipped. “Well”—he corrects himself—“it’s Jo’s business actually.”

Both his parents rise up, smiling, his mom hurrying over to grasp my hand. “Agirl!” she exclaims with what appears to be giddy excitement, and her warm acceptance, and how thoroughly normal andmom-likeshe is, makes me ache to my bones.

“Mom,” Janus says low and deep.

His dad chuckles before his eyes come to rest on me, and for a split second his lopsided grin is so like Janus’s that something stutters in my chest.

“Your own business, eh? That keep you as busy as it seems to keep my son?” His sharp eyes twinkle at me.

“Well,” I say, smiling back at him, “I certainly don’t have a lot of free time.”

“Would you like a tea or a coffee?” his mom asks, fizzing with suppressed energy.

Janus stiffens at my side. “I thought you guys were going sightseeing?”

“All in good time,” she says, patting his arm. “Jo has just arrived, and we need to say hello.”

Janus frowns, folding his arms over his chest before looking at the floor. He doesn’t shift.

“Are you going to make the coffee?” she asks.

“I’ll do it,” his dad mumbles, mouth twitching.

“Espresso would be lovely for me,” I say, trying to cut through the weirdness that has appeared from nowhere.

“Honestly, Janus,” his mom huffs as his dad heads toward the kitchen. “I don’t know why you can’t relax. We’re not ogres.”

“That remains to be seen,” he says dryly and gestures at me to sit.

Soon I am chatting away to his mom asking her questions about Wisconsin, and before long she is pulling out pictures of their dog and their house. Her head bends over my phone where I’m showing her some photos of my own, and she laughs at the ones of code and says she’d be sure to find this kind of thing on her son’s phone if he ever gave her access to it. I lift my head to smirk at Janus only to discover he’s watching me from the other sofa with an odd expression on his face. I frown and mouth“What?” at him, but he smiles, looking toward the windows and shaking his head. His dad appears with the tray, eyes flicking between Janus and me. I can feel the heat return to my cheeks, but his dad just nods and turns to Janus.

“How long have you and Jo known each other?” he says.

Janus bristles, and I can hardly blame him: What a loaded question. It’s something you’d ask a couple.

“I think the contract you’ve been doing with us started at the beginning of January, didn’t it, Jo?”

His dad’s eyes are like an owl’s through his glasses, unblinking, all-seeing. What would it have been like to have a father like this who demanded everything? He tilts his head as though he has so many questions bubbling under, and I smile at the deep frown on Janus’s face. This prickly, defensive version of Janus is a surprise, but it’s cute how eager his parents are to see him settle down. Perhaps they are more worried about all his dates than he realizes.

“Yes, I’ve been getting my head around the security on Janus Industries’ systems.” I try valiantly to keep this about business.

“There was a breach—although that’s highly confidential,” Janus adds as an afterthought.

His dad frowns again. “Is it serious?” he says.

“Worrying enough to get Jo’s company on board, but hopefully with her help we’ve managed to contain it; well, more like totally sorting us out actually,” he mumbles. Then he laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “You’ve made some significant improvements to what we were doing.” And the warmth in his voice as his gaze catches mine makes my eyes skitter away. His dad clears his throat, and my eyes swing back to find him watching Janus thoughtfully: He’s not missed either his son’s warm tone or my response.

But all his dad does is look down, mumbling, “That’s good,” into his coffee before taking a sip. Janus’s mom inhales sharply and smiles at me, patting his dad’s hand before standing and picking up the tray. “Well, we need to be going, Robert. Leave these two young people in peace.”

---