Page 12 of Finding Jack
Until my DM alert pinged again. I snatched up my phone to tap out an annoyed, “Go away,” but Jack’s first message caught me by surprise. All it said was, “SORRY SORRY SORRY.” Then he’d followed up with an explanation.
JACK: My idiot friend Sean just told me that he tried to talk Ranée into coming up here and bringing you with her. I had nothing to do with that. This time I’m staying out of your inbox for real. Just didn’t want you to be stressed for no reason. Sorry again.
Relief washed over me.
EMILY: Thank goodness. Have to admit, I thought for a second there that everything had escalated quickly. Like maybe have-SWAT-on-speed-dial kind of quickly.
JACK: I know. Seriously. That was all him. I won’t bother you again.
I realized that the relief I felt wasn’t about him leaving me alone. It was…I wasn’t sure I could explain it. It was more like I’d left our exchange yesterday feeling like he was a good guy, and it was nice to know it was true.
I spent another half hour bonding with my blankets and then finally climbed out of bed to brush my teeth, wrangle a ponytail, and put on some hummingbird leggings and a thin, comfy sweater. I was in the middle of pulling all the ingredients out when Paul rang the doorbell, an hour to the minute after we’d hung up.
“Hi,” he said, stepping inside and dropping a kiss on my cheek. I smiled. Looked like he was back to feeling like himself.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Oh, hey, did I not give you enough time to get ready? I’m sorry. You didn’t have to rush for me.”
“No, I just thought it would be fun to do this together. Come on into the kitchen.”
Confusion wrinkled the corners of his eyes. “What are you—oh. No, I meant…never mind.”
But he’d flicked a glance at my outfit. I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Something wrong with my clothes?”
His cheeks flushed slightly. “No, not at all. Forget it. I was obviously being an idiot.”
A cough sounded in the hallway. OF COURSE Ranée had been there to overhear that whole exchange. Of course she had.
I refused to look at Ranée, knowing her face would be lit up with glee over Paul declaring himself an idiot. Instead I grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the kitchen. “You chop onions, I’ll make a green salsa.”
Ranée wandered into the living room and settled on the sofa where she’d have a clear view of what we were doing. “Can I get one?”
I waved her off with a spatula. Nope. She didn’t want an omelet. She wanted fodder to use against Paul. I mentally willed him not to give her any ammunition. My ESP must have worked because he kept his conversation to the crazy hours he was keeping at work and questions about the food prep. She finally grew bored and disappeared into her room again.
Paul glanced over as I chopped some cilantro. “I don’t like cilantro, remember?”
Of course I remembered. We’d had an entire conversation when we’d first started dating about how he thought it tasted like dish soap and how I thought he was crazy. “I know that, Paul.” I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice.
His eyebrows shot up. “Sorry. You seem, um, irritable today.”
“Only when you show up to my house and start nitpicking me when I’m trying to do something nice for you.”
“Whoa, I’m not nitpicking you.”
“You implied my clothes were slobby, and you’re micromanaging what I’m putting on your omelet.”
He went back to slicing the mushrooms I’d switched him to. “Sorry,” he said after he had one portioned into perfectly sized pieces. “I can see why I was coming off like that. I didn’t mean to sound critical.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine.”
He winced. “If there’s anything I learned about women from my mom, it’s that ‘fine’ never means fine.”
“I mean it.” I didn’t mean it. But I didn’t feel like getting into it. I just wanted to get the omelets in the skillet. “Why don’t you sit, and I’ll get these cooked.”
He almost looked as if he would argue, but smart man that he was, he closed his mouth again and busied himself with setting the table while I poured the eggs into the skillet. I used the few minutes it took for the omelets to set to let go of the temper that had been rising since he walked in.
They cooked up perfectly, and I slid his onto his plate with a smile and took a seat across from him.
