Page 128 of This Time Around
“Nice!” Kate wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. “Maybe I’ll check it out when I’m there next month for work.”
Jonah studied her a moment, looking thoughtful. “Why did you say that earlier about acting? About wising up and moving to the other side of the camera?”
Kate’s fingers tightened around the mug as her gut pinged with surprise at which detail he’d latched onto. Normally, everyone pumped her for details on filmmaking or television, eager to hear if she knew famous people or if they’d seen anything she’d worked on.
But that’s not what Jonah wanted to know. He was curious about the path not chosen. She took a sip of coffee and considered how much to share. “It didn’t seem practical,” she said. “Building a career in acting takes so much time and luck.”
“You miss it, though? Acting, I mean?”
Kate shrugged. “Sometimes. But it’s just not a good career choice for someone who wants stability, a family—things like that.”
As her brain caught up to the words tumbling out of her, she fought the urge to wince again.
Jesus, Kate. Why don’t you stand on the table and announce you’re a thirty-four-year-old single woman whose most exciting risk in the last decade was returning a library book two days late?
But if Jonah thought any of that, his face didn’t show it. He opened his mouth to say something just as two older ladies stepped onto the patio with matching cotton-ball perms and colorful cardigans Kate recognized from the window display in one of the expensive, artsy shops on Main Street.
“Honestly,” the taller woman was saying. “Far be it from me to criticize a passionate performance, but do they not realize how thin the walls are in this place? I could hear every creak of the bedsprings.”
Jonah gave a soft snort while Kate stifled a giggle behind her napkin as the pair drew closer to the table.
“Their headboard must be right up against our bathroom wall,” the other woman was saying. “Maybe we can speak with the manager about leaving a note or something. I don’t want to embarrass them, but maybe they just don’t realize how noisy they are.”
“All that banging. And the moaning and the groaning?—”
The two were mere steps away, and Kate realized the only two vacant seats were at her table. She started to scoot right to make the newcomers welcome when she felt a hand brush hers.
She looked up to see Jonah with a straight face and an unreadable glint in his eyes. “You said you missed acting,” he murmured. “Want to take a shot at it?”
Kate stared at him for a second, mystified by what he might be suggesting.
Which seemed like the perfect reason to agree.
The fact that Kate nodded in agreement before Jonah had told her a damn thing about what he had in mind said a lot about her personality.
She was naturally trusting. Curious. She either took risks or wanted to look like someone who did.
A decade of serving as a counterintelligence expert in the U.S. Marines had left him trained to interrogate subjects, and analyze visual and auditory clues. Military training aside, he had a knack for reading people.
Not that the skill had kept him from making some pretty stupid choices in relationships, but it was still a handy ability to have.
Kate sat looking at him with a curious expression, somewhere between intrigue and anxiousness. Hell, he wasn’t normally the kind of guy to suggest a spontaneous game of make-believe, but bringing up his sister had reminded him of the game they’d played as kids. Still played, actually.
“You pretend you’re a Turkish oil wrestler with a head injury, and I’m your translator,” Jossy would whisper as they walked into a grocery store together, giggling as she got into character.
Not that Kate was anything like his sister. And he definitely wasn’t feeling brotherly toward her. Something about Kate filled him with an odd mix of boldness and giddy energy. It was a far cry from how he’d felt in his marriage, content to let his wife be the creative free spirit while Jonah remained the fuzzy background noise.
The old ladies drew closer. As they seated themselves at the table, Jonah covered Kate’s hand with his. The women kept chattering about the noisily amorous couple in the room next door, and Jonah cleared his throat.
“Ma’am.” Both women looked up, and Jonah flashed an apologetic smile. “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. About the couple staying next door to your room?”
The two women blinked, frozen in the act of placing their napkins on their laps. The shorter one in the blue sweater spoke first. “Yes?” They exchanged a glance, then looked back at Jonah.
“Right,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize for that.” He smiled at Kate, his best attempt at nervous fondness. While he’d never studied acting the way she had, he knew damn well what a chagrined lover might act like. He watched Kate’s brown eyes widen, but she gave nothing away.
Across the table, the shorter woman tilted her head to one side. “I beg your pardon?”
“My wife and I are on our honeymoon.” Jonah slung his arm around the back of Kate’s chair, relieved when he felt her lean into him. But not quite as relieved when she kicked him under the table.
