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“Again with that? I’m not a child.”
I twisted away from him and he allowed me to go.
Jonas scoffed. “But you want to argue like one? I’ll bathe, feed, and put you to bed.”
My mind imagined Jonas’s hands all over my body, and a goofy grin spread across my face. He should have known that wasn’t going to motivate me. I was about to challenge him, but I saw the tiredness on his face.
“Were you travelling today?” I asked.
“No. I have been in town for a few days. I’ve just had a lot come up with work, and Paul had me out with him at a rock concert last night.”
He took on that look of pride and pleasure he had when he talked about his son.
“You must be tired,” I said. “And you’re probably behind with work. You spent the whole day with me….”
A crease appeared on his cheek. “After all you’ve been through, and you’re worried about me? Don’t worry. I’m fine.”
“Alright, I won’t fight. I’ll follow your orders. Mr. Crane, sir,” I said and jokingly saluted him.
He stared at me, then walked over and kissed my forehead, which was becoming his go-to spot. I didn’t love it.
“Good,” he said. “If you need help, just call out.”
I turned my head so he wouldn’t see the mischief in my expression. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I packed a T-shirt you can sleep in,” Jonas said, his hands on my shoulders moved me toward the bathroom.
“Okay. I’m going. Do I smell or something?” I joked, sniffing myself.
“No, but Dr. Steinman said warm baths and relaxation, and I agree,” he said.
I walked inside the bathroom and started to undress. I could feel Jonas’s gaze, but when I turned around, he turned and walked out.
“I’m right outside,” he called over his shoulder.
My old records had a new insult. Now my weight loss repulsed him. I walked over to the tub and started filling it, climbing in when the water reached mid-way. I cleaned up, washing and moisturizing my face. Upon getting out, I pulled on a tank top and pants, easing the door open and walking out. Jonas was facing towards the windows. He had removed his suit jacket and was still in his shirt and slacks, his stance stoic.
“No. Don’t come. Yes, I do. It is.” He turned to look at me and motioned towards the dining table. “Yes. If that’s what you want to do. Good night.”
He hung up the phone and pushed his hands through his hair.
I hesitated. “Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yes. Well, it will be,” he said and walked over to the table and held my seat out.
I sat down and he took the seat next to me. Everything smelled wonderful. I eyed the roast chicken, Mediterranean vegetables, and rice pilaf on my plate. I tried to remember what I had last eaten before the yogurt, but nothing sprang to mind.
Jonas spoke, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Let’s enjoy our dinner.”
He watched me as I lifted a fork full of rice and ate it. Only then did he visibly ease.
“No quotes, Mr. Crane?” I asked.
He smiled wistfully. “Not tonight, Ms. Salomé.” He ate his grilled steak and tabbouleh salad, in between sending his fork over to me to try. “Just a bite.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to make my stomach explode.”
He didn’t laugh, and we continued to eat in silence. I took a few more bites of my own and felt full.
