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Good God. Had he just forgotten Gretchen’s name? Maybe rebounds really did work.
The next thing she said had him spinning around in shock.
“Back in high school, why didn’t you tell me you had a learning disability?”
Sixteen
When she saw Jason’s expression, Kendra wished she could take back the question. He looked stricken, embarrassed, even ashamed.
He turned away to finish buttoning the crisp cotton shirt she’d recommended he wear to his first big town meeting. “How do you know? Did something give it away?”
“No. Jason, you don’t have to hide it. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“Easy for you to say,” he murmured.
“Okay, that’s fair. But I was your tutor. It might have helped if I’d known.”
He buttoned his cuffs. Tucked the shirt into his pants. Fastened his dark leather belt. He looked hot in a suit—except for that somber expression on his face.
“Why does it matter now if I told you or not?”
“Because…” The truth was, she didn’t entirely know. It had been nagging at her ever since Holly had told her. But why? This was just a rebound. They didn’t have to get that deep.
Jason shot her a teasing look from those deep blue eyes. “I see what’s going on here. You’re curious because you care.”
“Of course I care.”
“I mean, it’s more than sex. You’re falling for me. You want to know all about me. My hopes and dreams. My issues. My feelings.”
“I’m going to hit you with a damn pool cue if you don’t stop.”
He burst out laughing, and after a wary moment, she joined in. “Had you going, didn’t I?”
“You’re a freaking idiot.”
Now they were both laughing…back to normal, in other words. As if they’d danced close to the edge of intimacy, then waltzed away. She realized her pulse was fluttering.
When their amusement died down, he said, “When I was growing up, I didn’t know I had an actual problem. All I knew was that some things were more difficult for me. I assumed I was…not smart.”
“That’s bullshit. You knew you were smart.”
“No. I knew I wasn’t stupid. I knew I was smart about some things. I could read people, I was good with my hands, I was good at math. I was good in a crisis. I had a good memory because it took me so long to read things. But when it came to school, well, you know how it was. I never got diagnosed, but I dated an occupational therapist who confirmed it, unofficially.”
“Are you dyslexic?”
“Something like that.”
“You don’t want to find out for sure?”
“Hardly matters now. I’m a freaking fire chief!” He crossed to his closet and grabbed a blazer. Shrugging it on, he posed for her. “How’s this?”
She had to hand it to him, he looked fantastic. That summer weight, light gray, well cut jacket set off his dark hair and the deep blue of his eyes. He ran a hand through his thick dark waves and tried to bring some order to them. It didn’t quite work, but then again, it never did. Jason would never be a “paint within the lines” kind of guy.
“Good,” she told him. “That blazer sets off your ‘just had hot sex on a couch’ look.”
He winked at her. “Just what I was going for.”
She followed him toward the bedroom door. “Even if you didn’t have a diagnosis, you could have told me you had trouble with reading. I wouldn’t have judged you, you know.”
