“You’re going to have to give me more than that,” he said. “If this is going to be another of those conversations where you explain that we’re not dating, I’ll pass.”
Her laugh sounded forced. “Oh, I think I’ve learned my lesson on that one. I just miss talking to you about stuff.”
“Stuff?” he echoed. “When did we ever talk about stuff?”
“A long time ago, before things got so complicated.”
“You mean before I fell for you and you didn’t fall for me?”
Her chin jutted up stubbornly. “Okay, yes, back then.”
“Okay, one more question. Why did you call me tonight? I understand why you didn’t call one of your brothers, but why me?”
She looked vaguely rattled by the question. “You were the first person I thought of.”
“Any idea why?”
“Because I trust you,” she said simply. “And I wanted to make up for what happened the last time I saw you. I felt as if we lost something. I want it back.”
Intrigued despite himself by her sudden nostalgia for the old days, he decided to take a chance. Who knew what was going on in that unpredictable head of hers?
“Let’s go, then, before you catch pneumonia.”
When they entered the inn through the kitchen, Jess pointed him toward the refrigerator. “Help yourself. Make me a sandwich or something if you don’t mind. I’m starved. And feel free to raid the wine supply. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Will found a loaf of freshly baked whole grain bread, cut thick slices, lathered them with mustard and mayonnaise, then added thin slices of cheddar cheese, ham and tomato. He found a stash of homemade sweet potato chips, one of the inn’s specialties, and put them into a bowl. He’d just poured two glasses of wine when Jess returned.
Her cheeks were flushed, her damp hair tousled, but she looked terrific in a pair of faded jeans and some kind of fuzzy sweater that practically begged to be touched. She was barefoot, her nails painted an unexpectedly sexy shade of dare-me red. It contradicted her otherwise wholesome image. He thought that was one of the things that appealed to him most about her. She was such a mass of unpredictability and contradictions. No man could ever possibly be bored by her.
Of course, what he saw as charming unpredictability, too many others over the years had convinced her was a flaw caused by her attention deficit disorder. She’d become extraordinarily self-conscious and testy about what she viewed as a negative that she couldn’t overcome.
“You look about a thousand times better,” he said approvingly.
“And this sandwich looks amazing. Thank you. Want to take them into the lounge? We can build a fire, if you want. There’s no one around tonight, so we have the place to ourselves again. I love Sunday nights for just that reason. I have the run of the place.”
She met his gaze. “Remember when we were kids, how much we loved Sundays because all the tourists would leave by suppertime and the town would be ours again? There were no lines waiting for ice cream or snow cones and our favorite booths at Sally’s weren’t occupied by strangers.”
Will smiled. “I remember.” He tore his gaze away. “Why don’t you grab the sandwiches and I’ll bring the wine, the glasses and the chips? Should I bring dessert, too? There’s a decadent-looking cake in the fridge.”
“Bring the whole cake,” she said, grinning. “I did mention I’m starved, didn’t I?”
He laughed. “I’ll grab a couple of plates and forks, then.”
“Forget the plates. If it’s Gail’s double fudge cake, we’ll just finish it off. Or I will.”
Shaking his head, he looked her over. “For a skinny little thing, where do you put all this food?”
“Nervous energy,” she said, leading the way into the lounge with its overstuffed chairs arranged to face the fireplace.
“Thank goodness there’s wood,” she noted, heading toward it after she’d set down the sandwiches.
“Sit. I’ll get it,” Will said.
She regarded him skeptically. “Do you know how to build a fire? I thought you were the intellectual type.”
“I was also a Boy Scout, just like every other male kid in town.” He grinned. “Of course, I did flunk quite a few of the tests, so my collection of merit badges is pretty limited. I think it’s safe to let me light the fire, though.”
He made quick work of getting it started, then saw that instead of sitting in a chair, she’d settled on the floor. She patted the spot next to her. Will sat, but he studied her with a narrowed gaze.
“What’s going on, Jess?”
She gave him an innocent look. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but this scene has seduction written all over it. It seems out of character, at least when it comes to you and me. You’ve been keeping me at arm’s length for a long time.”
Bright patches of pink climbed into her cheeks, even as she mustered up a heavy dose of indignation. “You’re imagining things,” she insisted.
“Am I really?” he asked doubtfully. “Something’s changed tonight. I’m trying to put a finger on what.”
“Can’t I just be grateful to you for coming to my rescue?”
“And that’s all this is?”
She shrugged. “Sure. What else?”
Will sighed, more disconcerted than he’d been in years. What else, indeed? For a couple of minutes there, he’d wondered if perhaps his dreams were about to come true.
Jess hadn’t expected Will to call her on her intentions, especially since she wasn’t even certain herself why she was suddenly considering breaking her hard-and-fast rule about not dating him. She had to admit, though, that he was right about one thing: something had changed between them tonight. There was a sizzle in the air she couldn’t remember ever being there before. Oh, there’d always been the heat of anger or a quick spark of indignation, but never this powerful pull, nor this simmering attraction. At least not until that kiss at Brady’s. Since then, she’d felt it more frequently.
Maybe
