Page 57 of About that Fling
He swallowed, not sure if he’d gone too far or presumed too much. He was probably supposed to be cagier, but dammit, he liked her. He liked her enough to consider what a future with Jenna might look like. Was she on the same page?
“I have family in Seattle,” he said. “I’ve considered relocating before, just to be closer to them. I’m just saying that if things got serious between the two of us, I could see myself moving to the Pacific Northwest. Hypothetically, I mean.”
She sighed and closed her eyes, still leaning into his touch. Adam curved his palm to cup the side of her face, then slowly traced the line of her jaw and the satiny skin of her throat.
For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Just leaned into his touch, breathing in and out and mingling their breath behind the fogged-up windows of her car.
When she opened her eyes, they glittered beneath the streetlights. He could see the doubt in her expression before she uttered a single word. “We might not be working together forever, but you’ll always be my best friend’s ex-husband. There’s no getting around that, is there?”
“No,” he said slowly. “That won’t ever change. But maybe your feelings about it will?”
She sighed and shook her head. “It’s like you said earlier, Adam—things are always more complicated than that.”
“How do you mean?”
“It’s not just my feelings I’m worried about.”
He nodded. There was no arguing with that, even though he wanted to. Even though part of him raged with the urge to yell that he gave up caring about his ex-wife’s feelings the second he signed the divorce papers.
But most of him knew that wasn’t true. As much as he hated it, as much as he no longer cared for her that way, the ghost of her silent judgment would always be hanging over him. Every career choice he made, every romantic entanglement he entered, it would forever be filtered through a fleeting question of what Mia might think. He hoped it might fade with time or a new relationship, but a whisper of it would probably always be there.
It wasn’t the same hesitation Jenna had, but it was still there.
“Understood,” he said at last, even though that wasn’t entirely true. “Good night, Jenna.”
He leaned in to kiss her, and there was something more gentle about it this time. A breath of longing and sadness about what could never happen between them.
When they drew apart, her eyes glittered brighter than before. “Goodbye,” she whispered.
On Sunday morning, Jenna set the table with Aunt Gertie’s good china.
“I’m so glad this is becoming a tradition,” Gertie said, stirring a big pot of gravy on the stove. “What time did you say Mia would be here?”
“A few minutes after nine,” Jenna said, smoothing the corner of a blue and white checked placemat before she set the plate down. “Mark had something to do for work, so Mia had to take Katie to her mom’s house.”
Jenna folded a napkin with a more severe crease than it needed, wondering if Mia would stop and chat with Ellen. She knew the relationship wasn’t great between the two women, but Mia always tried. What if Ellen mentioned seeing Jenna and Adam together? Would Mia buy the cover story about team-building prep, or should she come up with something else?
The fact that she was giving so much thought to hiding something from her best friend sent a fresh wave of guilt surging through her, and she gripped the counter to hold herself steady. God, maybe she should just tell Mia everything. It had to be better than lying, didn’t it?
“Everything okay, dear?”
Jenna turned to her aunt. “Sure, why?”
“You just seem distracted. Is there anything you want to talk about?”
The fact that I’m falling for my best friend’s ex-husband?
The fact that you’re a bestselling erotica author and I’m afraid the scandal could cause labor negotiations to blow up in my face?
The fact that I slept with the mediator my employer is counting on to bail us out of the worst personnel disaster in the company’s history?
“I’m great,” she said, turning to place a fork neatly beside Gert’s spot at the table.
Gert wasn’t appeased. “You’re sure, dear?”
“Yep.” Jenna forced herself to smile. “Everything’s under control.”
Shaking her head, Gert banged her spoon on the edge of the pot. “So much like your mother sometimes,” she murmured.
