CHAPTER SEVEN
Kate saw Jonah hesitate as she stood there on his doorstep, feeling the glare of his porch light beating down on her like a spotlight. She took a deep breath, wondering if she should have come here at all. If she should have kept texting or maybe sent an e-mail.
Then he stepped aside and waved her into his home, and Kate released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“Come on in,” he said. “I was just helping the cat get settled.”
Kate looked at Marilyn, who was standing on the back of a tan leather sofa with her eyebrows arched in silent judgment.
“Hey, kitty,” she said, stepping over to stroke the cat’s ears. “I’m glad he decided to keep you.”
“Me, too,” Jonah said, and Kate thought she caught a note of embarrassment in his voice.
“You’re her hero.”
“Please,” he muttered. “I’m her butler.”
“Same thing to a cat.”
Jonah shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her, probably wondering what the hell she was doing in his living room. “I’d offer you a beer, but the cat doesn’t seem to approve.”
“Your cat disapproves of beer?”
“Apparently the cat I acquired to break free from my ex-wife’s pet ban is now enforcing my ex’s beer ban,” he said. “Don’t think the irony is lost on me.”
Kate laughed, relieved he was still joking with her. That he wasn’t as pissed as she knew he had a right to be. “That’s okay,” Kate said. “I’m not really a beer fan anyway.”
“Not a beer fan?” Jonah shook his head in dismay. “What’s wrong with you?”
Kate grinned and scratched the cat under the chin. “Just because I happen to think Budweiser tastes like a skunk that’s been run over?”
Jonah made a face. “It does taste like that. Budweiser? Are you serious?”
“That’s the only beer I know of.”
“Do you live in a cave? Haven’t you had real beer? Not Budweiser or Coors some other mass-produced, yellow, fizzy mess. I’m talking craft beer.”
“Isn’t all beer pretty much the same?”
Jonah shook his head a little sadly, and Kate wondered if this whole conversation was his way of distracting her from what she’d really come to discuss. Wasn’t it male habit to shut down any conversation that began with a woman saying, “We need to talk”?
“Don’t stereotype!” Viv urged in her brain. “Making generalizations about the person with whom you’re in a relationship is a one-way ticket to conflict.”
But since she wasn’t in a relationship with Jonah, and since she was standing here in his living room hearing echoes of his ex-wife’s voice in her head, maybe the whole point was moot.
Kate stroked her hand down the cat’s back again, soothed by the soft rumble emanating from Marilyn’s fluffy body. “Look, I’m sorry about just showing up like this,” she said. “I tried texting and calling, but there was no answer, and I really wanted to talk with you privately.”
“I shut off my phone,” Jonah said. “I wasn’t in the mood to debrief with Viv about how today went.”
“You think she’d want to debrief?” Kate lifted an eyebrow. “Seems a little presumptuous. I’m guessing she’d be as eager as you were to put today behind her.”
Jonah didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up his phone off the counter and switched it on. As soon as it powered up, he held it out to her. Kate looked down at the screen, which was lit up with the opening lines of three different text messages.
Jonah, I’m concerned with how . . .
We really need to . . .
I think we should have a conversation about . . .
Jonah drew the phone back. “Just a hunch, but I think she wants to talk about how today went.”
Kate swallowed and nodded. “Probably a good guess.”
She thought about asking why he didn’t just have the conversation and get it over with, but the exhaustion on his face made her think twice about that. Could she really blame the guy for not wanting to follow up a day spent with his ex-wife with an evening spent talking to her on the phone?
“Jonah, I want to apologize,” Kate began. “I didn’t expect today’s session to be quite so—”
“You know, you really should try a good beer,” he said, “before you write off the whole beverage based on exposure to an inferior product.”
“I, uh—”
“Hang on,” he said. “I have a really good pumpkin ale from Elysian Brewing. They’re based in Seattle.”
Kate started to protest, but it was clear this was something that mattered to Jonah. Maybe it had something to do with the beer ban he’d mentioned, and a need to force his way out from under Viv’s thumb.
Or maybe her earlier suspicion was right and he just wanted to distract her. Either way, he had a point. She probably hadn’t given beer a fair shake.
“Sure,” she said. “If you think the cat will allow it.”
Marilyn looked up. “Owl.”
Her expression was one of silent judgment, but she stayed rooted on the back of the sofa.
“You distract the feline police,” he said. “I’ll make a break for it.”
He turned and hustled toward the kitchen, and it took Kate a few seconds to realize she was staring at his ass. He wore jeans that looked worn and soft as flannel, and a blue T-shirt that said Semper Fi across the back.
The cat gave a low growl and Kate looked down to see the animal regarding her with a knowing eyebrow lift.
“Sorry,” Kate whispered. “I didn’t mean to look.”
“Owl.”
“Oh, come on. Like you haven’t admired the view?”
“Are you talking to the cat?” Jonah called from the kitchen.
“We’re just discussing the finer points of filmmaking.”
“That seems fitting. Maybe she’s a reincarnated movie critic.”
Kate glanced at the cat, whose expression did suggest an abundance of freely spoken opinion.
“You can’t judge a girl by her looks,” Kate said.
“It’s not just her looks,” Jonah called. “It’s the attitude. I’m telling you, it’s like living with a perpetually disgruntled boss who’s critiquing my job performance.”
“Maybe you need to step up your game.”
“Maybe so.” He sauntered back into the living room, carrying two pint glasses filled to the brim with a pumpkin-colored liquid. He handed one to Kate and nodded toward the couch. “Come on. If you’re going to make me talk about how today went, let’s at least sit down someplace comfortable.”
Kate followed him around the sofa, a little surprised by his willingness to return to the subject he clearly didn’t want to discuss. But maybe the beer made the difference. She had to admit, holding the pint glass in her hand made her feel casual and relaxed.
Jonah seated himself on the sofa, and Kate hesitated. It would probably be more professional for her to sit on the loveseat, but would that seem weird? Jonah patted the seat beside him.
“You planning to sit, or are you going to stand there lecture style and tell me all the things I did wrong today?”
“You?” Kate dropped onto the sofa, the distance thing forgotten for now. “You didn’t do anything wrong. What are you talking about?”
He shrugged and took a sip of his orangey-looking beer. The flicker from the fireplace reflected on his glasses and brought out the amber in his eyes. Kate felt herself getting dizzy and started to blame the beer before remembering she hadn’t tasted it yet.
“I know today was awkward, but trust me, that it wasn’t your fault,” Kate said.
“I’m not sure everyone shares your opinion.”
Kate shook her head and rested her glass on the knee of her jeans. “If anything, it’s my fault. Clearly the whole situation was more contentious than I expected it to be. That’s why I came here. I wanted to apologize for that.”
“It was exactly as contentious as I expected it to be,” Jonah said. “No need to apologize.”
He didn’t seem angry or bitter about that, but still. Kate felt bad. “Obviously we knew it was going to be awkward to have two ex-spouses working together, but I don’t think I realized what a toll it might take on you.”
“On me in particular, or are you having this conversation with Viv as well?”
Kate gripped her glass tighter. It hadn’t occurred to her to have this conversation with Viv. Only with Jonah. She tried not to read too much into that.
“I’m concerned about both of you,” Kate said, deliberately avoiding the question.
“But more about me.”
She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, but clearly he wasn’t going to let the subject lie. “Viv has been on board with this TV program from the start—the planning, the pre-production, the discussions of what it would and wouldn’t feel like. You sort of got thrust into it at the last minute.”
Jonah grinned. “Here’s where Average Joe would make an inane comment about last-minute thrusting being a great way to save a relationship.”
“Right.” Kate felt a sharp stab of guilt. “I guess that’s what I mean. I worry that I pushed you into something you didn’t have time to think through. That maybe you agreed to this without considering the challenges of being pushed back into the Average Joe persona when you’ve been trying to break out of that.”
Jonah shifted his glass from one hand to the other, but didn’t take a sip. He studied her with an intensity that made her want to look away, but she didn’t.
“You’re not responsible for my decision, Kate.”
She bit her lip. “I can be pretty persuasive.”
A ghost of a smile tilted up one corner of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”
“I just—look, I’ve been thinking about the other night in your bookstore. About what happened.”
“What happened?”
His smile was full-on, and she could tell he was teasing her. But if she’d learned nothing else from all these damn self-help books, it was the importance of saying what was on her mind. Not skirting the difficult conversations.
“I kissed you,” she said.
“And I kissed back.”
“Right. But what if I only kissed you because I was trying to manipulate you into doing the show?”
He looked amused by that notion, which Kate probably should have taken as an insult. She waited for him to respond, but instead he lifted his glass and took a slow sip of his beer. She watched his throat move as he swallowed, and for some reason her mouth began to water. Glancing down at her own beer, she wondered if she should try it. Instead, she set it on the coffee table.
Jonah lowered his glass next to hers and looked at her, eyes glinting with amusement. “You think I was so dazzled by your skillful use of tongue that I signed on the dotted line before my hard-on had gone down?”
“Jesus.” His words took her breath away. It was probably the shock value, not the thought of Jonah aroused. Not the thrill of thinking it might have been her who aroused him.
“You’re good, don’t get me wrong,” Jonah said, reading her thoughts. “But I have a little more self-control than that. The best thing I took away from my divorce is the ability to decide for myself what I want.”
He lifted the beer in a mock toast, then took a sip. Kate glanced at Marilyn, who was still parked on the back of the sofa. The cat’s expression was one of disapproval, but the fact that she was here in the first place underscored Jonah’s words. The man could make his own decisions, so maybe Kate hadn’t pressured him into the show.
She looked back at Jonah, letting her gaze drop to his mouth. She shivered as her brain filled with memories of what it felt like to kiss him. What it felt like to have his hands in her hair, his body molded against hers. With a shaky breath, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “It doesn’t bother you to think I might have been trying to manipulate you?”
“By kissing me?”
She nodded. “Kissing you and rubbing myself against you and—” The words made her dizzy, so she decided to stop there.
“Were you trying to manipulate me?” He sounded more charmed than annoyed.
She hesitated, then glanced down at the beer. “I don’t think so, but I can’t say for sure. How self-aware is anyone, really, about why they do certain things?”
“Anyone ever tell you that you overthink things?”
“All. The. Time.” She meant for her tone to convey the gravity of the situation, but caught herself starting to smile. Okay, so this was a little absurd. She took a breath and met his eyes again. “I just don’t want you to blame me. If things go wrong, I mean.”
“Kate.”
“Yes?”
“I solemnly swear not to blame you—or your delectable lips—when things go wrong.”
Her breath caught on delectable.
Her brain caught on his choice of when over if.
The rest of her body was humming like she’d swallowed a shot of whiskey. She glanced at the beer glass on the coffee table and wondered if she’d absorbed some through her fingertips.
“Okay,” she said, though she couldn’t recall if she was agreeing to something or acknowledging what he’d said. What had he said again? The living room felt hot, and she wasn’t sure if it was the fireplace or another heat source.
“Tell you what,” Jonah said. “How about we balance things out?”
Kate swung her gaze back to his. “How do you mean?”
“Well, since you seem so concerned about your own culpability and your intentions in kissing me, it only seems fair that I should kiss you now.” He smiled. “Just to set things right.”
Heat flooded her face. She tried to swallow but discovered she couldn’t. “I—I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
She knew it wasn’t a good idea. So why was she leaning closer?
She had every intention of standing up then. Putting some distance between her body and Jonah’s, maybe even leaving. It was late, and she’d said what she’d come to say. She really should go.
But somehow she found herself leaning in, pressing her palms to his chest, breathing in the woodsy scent of him as she tilted her head back and pressed her lips to—
“Nope.” Jonah drew back, and Kate started to yank her hands off his chest. But Jonah was quick, catching her wrists to pin her palms in place.
“Not like that.” He grinned. “What part of ‘I should kiss you’ didn’t make sense?”
Kate swallowed. “The part where we both agreed we shouldn’t kiss at all.”
“Right, that part.” Jonah smiled again. “And that’s totally legit. Right after this kiss.”
Then his lips were on hers. Any thought of leaving vanished the instant his hand slid around her waist to settle in the small of her back. He pulled her against him, kissing hard and deep as Kate responded in kind.
She knew in theory it shouldn’t matter who kissed first when both parties were willing, but Jonah was right. There was something different about this. Maybe it was the way he angled his mouth against hers, the way he tasted like pumpkin spice.
Maybe it was his hand in her hair, the way he pulled her so tight against him that her body ached to slide onto his lap.
Maybe it was the thrill of knowing they shouldn’t be doing this.
Or maybe it was something else entirely, the knowledge that they seemed incapable of keeping their hands off each other no matter how often they agreed it would be best.
Jonah broke the kiss first, but he didn’t let go of her. With his fingers still in her hair, he held her gaze with his. “Okay then.”
Kate took a shaky breath. “So we’re done with that.”
Jonah nodded. “I think we proved our point.”
“Which was?” Kate’s voice was high and tight, and she barely recognized it as her own.
“I forget.” Jonah let go of her then and reached for his beer. He picked it up and took a drink, then looked at her.
“So we got that out of our systems then.”
Kate stared at him, her body still buzzing where he’d touched her. She looked at her own glass, then picked it up. It was still cold, and had a soft froth of white across the top. She took a big gulp, then sputtered.
“Easy there, cowgirl!” Jonah grabbed the glass out of her hand while Kate coughed and gasped.
When her eyes stopped watering, she looked at him. “That was—not good.”
“You’re supposed to sip craft beer,” he said. “Not gulp like it’s water. Try again.”
He put the glass back in her hand, and Kate thought about resisting. But she tasted hints of graham cracker and nutmeg and allspice, and wasn’t sure if that was the beer or the kiss. Either way, she wanted more.
She wrapped her fingers around the glass and lifted it to her mouth. This time, she took a moment to breathe it in.
“It smells really good,” she admitted. “Like pie and cream soda.”
“Olfactory senses are really important when it comes to tasting beer,” he said. “Well, tasting anything, really, but we’re talking about beer here.”
Kate sniffed again. It really was nice. “I don’t think I’ve ever sniffed any drink that wasn’t wine.”
“Then you’ve been missing out. There’s a lot of sensory response that takes place in the zone where smell and taste meet.”
Kate laughed and sniffed again. “Wow. And to think I assumed you just chugged it at a tailgate party.”
“Perish the thought.”
She tilted the glass and took a tentative sip. Not bad. Not bad at all. She swallowed and sipped again.
“Take your time,” Jonah said. “Experiment with different ways of moving it over your tongue and swallowing.”
Kate grinned. “I can’t believe you’re instructing me like I’ve never consumed liquid before.”
“Not this kind of liquid,” he said. “Different parts of the tongue taste different things—salty, sweet, sour, bitter, umami. You could spend hours experiencing the flavors in totally different ways.”
Kate took one more sip and set the glass down. She’d barely made a dent in the contents of it, but she felt an odd sense of accomplishment. “That wasn’t bad at all. It was actually kind of nice.”
Jonah smiled at her. “That’s what I like about you.” He said it like he was just realizing something important.
“What do you mean?”
“On the surface you seem like someone who’d be set in her ways,” he said. “Who wouldn’t want to try new things. But you’re actually one of the most experimental people I’ve met.”
There was a warmth in Kate’s belly that might have been the beer, but she didn’t think so. “That might be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”
It was true. So much better than if he’d told her she had beautiful eyes or nice hair. What was it about being seen by someone—really seen—that felt like such a gift?
She picked up her glass again and took another swallow. Something about it reminded her of when her father used to pick her up from school and take her out for a butterscotch malt. The faint nuttiness, the cool sweetness on the back of her tongue.
She closed her eyes and took another sip, breathing in notes of creamy caramel and maybe cinnamon buns. Balancing the glass on her knee, she swallowed and felt the bubbles tickle her throat on the way down.
Her eyes were still closed when his lips brushed hers again.
This time, the kiss was soft. She didn’t open her eyes. Just slid her free hand into his hair and kissed him back, savoring the taste of cloves and cinnamon and something forbidden.
When she opened her eyes, his amber-green ones were locked with hers. He hadn’t drawn back yet, but there was a finality in his expression.
“I had to do that,” he murmured. “Just one last time.”
“I’m glad.”
“But that’s really it,” he said. “We have to stop now.”
Kate nodded and took another sip of beer. “Okay,” she said, and lifted her glass again.
Jonah half expected Kate to leave right after the second kiss. He wouldn’t blame her. What the hell was he thinking, planting one on her like that when they’d already agreed that was a horrible idea?
Maybe she was sticking around for the beer.
That seemed unlikely, since she wasn’t exactly chugging it. But she did sip it slowly as she answered all of his questions about the television show. The ones he hadn’t thought to ask before.
“It’s called an airable pilot,” Kate explained, shifting a little on the sofa. “All the color correction and sound mixing will be up to broadcast standards. That way, if the network says go, we’re ready to roll.”
“So they’d put it on the air just like that?”
“More or less. Amy’s making sure all our ducks are in a row as far as releases and legal clearances. We’ve got a good head start already on the paperwork side of things.”
“So what happens after they air it?”
“We cross our fingers for a series order from the network.” Kate shifted again, bumping his knee with hers. Jonah didn’t think it was on purpose, but part of him wished it was. “We’re hoping for fourteen episodes to start.”
“Fourteen?” He stroked a hand down Marilyn’s back, glancing over to see the cat looked as surprised as he felt. “I can’t believe you have that many victims lined up.”
“Victims?”
“Contestants—subjects—what are we calling the people whose relationships we’re supposed to fix?”
“Oh—I’m not sure yet. Viv wants to call them patients, but the network guys think that’s too clinical.”
“It sounds like we’re treating them for venereal disease.”
Kate laughed. “Exactly. I think for now it’s safe to say couples. And yes, casting has about four dozen of them pre-screened and ready to go in case we do get picked up.”
Jonah leaned back against the sofa and took another sip of beer. His glass was almost empty, but he didn’t want to leave this spot, this conversation, to get up and grab a refill.
“What do you think the odds are?” he asked.
“That the network will pick us up?”
Jonah nodded, and Kate tipped her head to the side, considering. “Above average,” she said. “Obviously we don’t even have a pilot yet, but I can see it in my head.”
“And how is it?”
She grinned. “Very good. Excellent. I have a pretty nice track record.”
“I’m glad.”
Jonah glanced down at his glass, not sure he was telling her the truth. Did he want the show to get picked up? He thought so, but his reasons for it had nothing to do with helping troubled couples. They were selfish reasons. Or maybe selfish wasn’t the right word. He was doing it for Jossy, but wasn’t that still selfish?
Or maybe he was trying to make up for the selfishness in the first place. That seemed like a better story.
“Can I ask you something?” Kate said.
Jonah looked up. “Fire away.”
“Why did you say yes? If it wasn’t my kissing skills, I mean?”
She gave him a small smile, but there was something serious in her eyes. Something that told him she knew there was more to his story than he’d let on so far.
Jonah hesitated. “I want to help my sister.”
“Ah. That makes sense.” Understanding flashed in her eyes. “The one with the animal shelter?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s noble of you.”
He thought about dispelling that idea. Just opening his mouth and letting the whole story come spilling out. But he bit back the words and gave a small shrug. “Not really. It’s family. You help each other out when you’re family.”
“Your father was killed in the line of duty?”
He must have looked alarmed, because Kate reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get too personal. Viv mentioned it in that first book. I wondered if maybe that had something to do with why you’re protective of your sister.”
Jonah nodded and studied her face. There was nothing there to suggest she knew the rest of the story. Even so, he wondered. Maybe Viv had said something.
But no. Kate’s expression wasn’t calculating. It wasn’t pitying. It was sincere. That much he could tell.
She lifted her glass and drained the last few drops of pale-orange liquid. Then she rested the glass on her knee. “Just be careful, Jonah. You don’t want to sell your soul to be someone else’s savior.”
Something in those words was familiar. He thumbed fast through the Rolodex in his brain, trying to place them.
“Viv wrote that,” Kate said, reading his mind. “It’s a line from But Not Broken. I think it was in chapter twelve or thirteen, right after she leaves the abusive relationship.”
“Right, of course.” His gut churned. “I remember now.”
Kate looked down at her glass. “I should probably go.”
She stood up before he could say anything else, and Jonah wondered what she’d seen in his face just then. Had something tipped her off that her words had touched a nerve? Or had he kept his expression as impassive as he’d hoped to?
He didn’t have time to ask. She’d already carried her glass to the kitchen. He could hear her rinsing it out in the sink. Then she walked back into the living room and stood behind the sofa, stroking a hand down Marilyn’s back.
“I’m really happy to be working with you, Jonah,” she said. “Even if we got sort of a weird start.”
“I’m happy to be working with you, too.” That was true, even if he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the show itself.
“I think this series is going to touch a lot of people.”
He nodded, ignoring the voices in his head that told him the only thing he really wanted at the moment was to touch her. That wasn’t going to happen. Her body language was making that perfectly clear, even if they hadn’t already agreed there would be no more kissing.
Jonah set his empty glass down and stood up. “I’m glad you came by. I definitely feel better about the show. About what happens next.”
Kate began walking toward the door, and Jonah fell into step beside her while something inside him screamed at her not to go. At the threshold of the door, she turned and looked at him.
“You think you’ll feel ready to start shooting in a couple days?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good. Well, then.” She took a deep breath, and Jonah waited for her to say something else. To tell him she felt the same way he did, even though he had no idea how either of them would put that into words.
“Good night, Jonah.”
“Good night.”
There was an air of finality in the word. An echo of goodbye, even though they’d be working together. Even though they’d be seeing each other every day for the rest of the foreseeable future.
But they wouldn’t be kissing again. They’d both made that clear.
“See you Wednesday at ten,” she said. “At Viv’s place.”
“Viv’s place,” he repeated as a tight ball formed in his chest.