Page 43 of At the Heart of It
“I, uh?—”
“Hang on,” he said. “I have a really good pumpkin ale from Juniper Ridge.”
Kate blinked. “Juniper Ridge the reality show?”
“Huh?” He stared like she’d spoken Swahili.
“Fresh Start at Juniper Ridge,” she continued, hoping it might ring a bell. “The Judson family started this self-contained community in rural Oregon as a sort of social experiment and brought in all the teachers and cops and medics to make it a real town. They’re filming the whole thing and the guy who runs the brewery—Griffin someone—he’s known for making these really creative beers. It’s excellent television.”
Jonah’s blank stare told her he didn’t have a clue about the show. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My beer was made on the set of a reality show?”
“More like a small town that happens to be on TV.” Maybe beer was the key to firing Jonah’s enthusiasm for unscripted television. “In fact, I’m sure of it—the brewmaster married one of the Judson sisters.”
“In that case, you should definitely try the beer.”
She started to protest, but clearly this was something that mattered to Jonah. Maybe it had to do with the beer ban he’d mentioned, and an urge to wriggle 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?”
