Page 79 of Flirting with Forever

“Just because I’m not what she wants doesn’t mean I’m not good enough for her,” he informed Ruth, who merely arched a feline eyebrow and gave a rather pointed yowl. “Even if her mattress is a damn cloud and her room looks like a page from a West Elm catalog.”

He stood up and strode to stand in front of the box fan. It was too hot in his apartment to sit in one place.

“You don’t care about West Elm, do you, Ruth?” he asked her as she plowed her forehead into his ankles. “That’s why you’re my best girl. All you need is food in your bowl and water—Oh, crap.” He strode over and filled up her water bowl, plopped a fresh can of food down for her.

He stood in front of the box fan and watched Ruth eat her breakfast. His insides hurt. He was haunted by thoughts of Mary’s bedroom. The expensive, decorative baubles twisting in the sunlight at her window, the framed art photographs he was willing to bet were originals, her heaven-soft duvet cover that wasn’t made of any material John had ever encountered before.

He winced and dragged a hand over his face, trying like hell not to feel like an idiot for thinking he had a real chance with her.

In an attempt to trick his mind into another direction, John pulled out his phone and opened his email. There at the top of the stack was the unanswered email he’d received from his father last week.

Come spend time with me, son, his email had implored.

You’re too rich for comfort, John’s non-reply had said back.

John sighed. Why was it always about money? “Whaddaya think, Ruthie?” John asked, setting his phone back down on his kitchen table. “Should I shelve my dignity for a week and let my father take me on a bonding vacation?” Jack would certainly pay for it if John told him he couldn’t afford to go.

His head snapped up at the tap-tap on his front door. John groaned, pressing his fingers against his suddenly pounding forehead. He knew, without having to look, exactly who was at the door. Even her knock was sweet. Two little taps, polite knuckles. God, he wasn’t ready for this. Her words earlier this morning had almost been a kindness. They’d cut him down to ribbons, but at least he knew, without question, where she stood on the matter. He didn’t want her sweetness, her reason. He didn’t want her to be nice to him right now. And he knew, without question, that if he opened that door, she was going to be unbearably sweet to him.

Ugh.

With any luck, she’d heard him asking Ruth for her opinion on financial matters. Wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top.

Two more knocks, these slightly louder than the last.

Deciding that he wasn’t so much of an asshole that he could hold his breath and pretend he wasn’t home, John stepped around Ruth and dragged his ass over to the door. With grim surrender, he swung open the door.

She stood there, an unexpected expression on her face, her hands on her hips. Her hair was piled up messily on top of her head, still wet from a shower, and she wore no makeup. She was in red shorts and a white T-shirt and perfectly white sneakers. She looked like she’d just thrown some clothes on to run down to the bodega, but here she was, all the way across town, standing at his door.

Apparently even piles of ribbons were capable of stomach-swooping. He wished like heck it didn’t affect him to see her standing there in his doorway. But of course, it did.

John frowned at her. Mary frowned back, her eyebrows knitting forward like her forehead muscles were straining from the position.

“Mary—”

“You’renot attracted tome.” She cut him off, her expression morphing from surly to stubborn.

“What?”It was probably the only thing she could have said that truly shocked him. One hand on the door, practically blocking her from coming inside, John just blinked at her.

She shoved forward, knocking his arm askew and coming into his house. She kicked off her white sneakers to reveal tiny, pink socks. She tossed her purse down next to her sneakers and whirled on him, her eyes narrowed.

Thoroughly thrown off and befuddled, John muscled Ruth back from the open door and closed it behind them. He turned to Mary and mirrored her position. Hands on hips. A scowl for the ages.

Surprisingly, he broke before she did. “You think I’m not attracted to you?”

She stalked over to his kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, chugged it down to empty and slammed the glass down. “I know you’re not attracted to me. That’s what the whole problem is. Has always been.”

In the courtroom, he was notorious for being a quick thinker. He’d been captain of his debate team in high school. He drove Estrella nuts when they watchedJeopardy!, always saying the answers before the contestants did.

But staring at Mary standing in her stocking feet in his kitchen, glaring at him, John’s mind was completely blank. He had no idea how to respond to her utterly insane statement.

He settled on a second“What?”

Still glaring at him, she held up her fingers and listed the incriminating evidence. “You never look me up and down the way you do every other woman on earth. Besides last night you’ve never tried to kiss me, but we were drunk so that barely counts. And if we’d gotten naked this morning, you would have seen me all in the bright light, and you’d have to come face-to-face with my age. I... I couldn’t handle that. Not when you already think I’m too old for you.”

There were too many threads to grab hold of in what she’d just said, too many issues to address. He went for the most glaring one. “Too old for me? This is about what I said on our blind date? Mary, for God’s sake, are you ever going to let me live that down?” He stalked forward, his blood boiling in his veins.

“John, it washumiliating. I did my hair, chose an outfit, walked into that restaurant feeling like a million bucks. And ten seconds later, I felt about two inches tall.” She threw her arms into the air. “It would have been three inches, but I was sostooped with age.”

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