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“I do know what you want to talk about. I heard what you said about changing the game.”
She couldn’t quite look him in the eye. So strange, since she usually had no trouble confronting people. But Jason…and those deep blue eyes…those dimples…she couldn’t.
“Why do you want to change something that’s working? Don’t they say if it’s not broke, don’t fix it?”
“What if it could be better? Maybe the saying has it wrong. A lot of things could be better.”
“So what are you saying? You and me, we could be better?”
“We could be a ‘we,’” he said simply. “Let’s start there.”
His cheek twitched, as if he wanted to smile. Of course he did; he was Jason, and his first instinct would always be a fun-loving one. But he was obviously trying to be serious.
“What kind of ‘we’?” She folded her arms across her chest. It was a self-shielding gesture, but also a way to keep herself from reaching out to touch him. With so little sleep, her defenses were down and she could feel her body yearning for him.
But that was just physical. Physical wasn’t everything. She and Jason weren’t suited to each other, were they?
“Whatever kind we decide. Sky’s the limit.” He glanced away, then back again. “I want a family, Kendra. I’ve been thinking about what was stopping me before, when I was with Gretchen. Part of it was Holly. I wanted to give her everything she needed. But she’s going to fly the nest soon.”
Kendra knew she should say something, anything, but her mind was a blank. A family? They’d never talked about that kind of thing before. Even she and Dominic hadn’t. They’d been so focused on putting the business together that everything else took a back seat.
“Also, I think I had a mental hurdle. It was probably left over from childhood, from not feeling good enough. I don’t feel that way anymore. I think I’d be a great husband and father, with the right woman.”
This was too weird, too disorienting. Too similar to that dinner with Dominic. She put a hand on the nearest wall to steady herself. “Is…is this a proposal?”
What woman wanted a proposal in a smoked-out nursing home on two hours of sleep?
“What? No. It’s not a proposal. Shit, did I screw this up?” He looked appalled as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m talking about the future. Down the line. Right now, I just think we should take things more seriously.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief. “Good, because there would be so many things we’d have to figure out. Like, we’d be an interracial couple. Our kids would be biracial. My in-laws would be white people who run a dance studio.” She pressed the heel of her hand into her forehead. “Sorry. No sleep.”
“No, it’s okay. I want to have these conversations. That’s what I’m saying. All those awkward, difficult topics like in-laws and kids, bring them on. I’m here for it. Because I’m here for you. I—”
“Wait. Don’t—” She flung up a hand to stop him. But it was too late.
“I love you.” Then he realized what she’d just said. “Shit. You don’t want me to say that.”
“I’m just…not ready.” She laced her hands on top of her head and paced around in a little circle. At least that way she didn’t have to look at him. “I might not ever be ready. It might not even be you. I trusted Dominic and he threw my trust back in my face like dirt. I don’t know if I can do that again. I don’t want to hurt you, Jason. I care about you.”
“It’s okay, Kendra. It’s all right if I get hurt. It’s worth it as long as you know how I feel. I love you. You don’t have to say anything back. I just want to be honest with you.”
Finally she forced herself to meet his eyes. She saw so much in those dark blue depths that her heart stuttered. Caring, concern, compassion, and…love. So, so much love.
She didn’t know what to do with it. Overwhelmed, she turned away. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You were honest. That’s…that’s good. I…I need to think. I can’t deal with this right now.” She backed away from him and bumped into the door. With a quiet flash of amusement, he reached behind her to turn the knob.
“Just breathe,” he told her gently. “It’ll be okay. No matter what, it’ll be okay.”
Breathe? Breathe? He made it sound so simple, when she was actually having a hard time getting her lungs to work. He really was good in a crisis, reassuring her when he’d just bared his soul.
Without looking at him again, she fled down the empty, echoing hallway of the nursing home. Why was she freaking out like this? It wasn’t the first time a guy had told her he loved her.
So had Dominic.
Images of Dominic flooded her brain, an unstoppable flow of taunts from the past. The text he’d sent her. Let’s put this on pause. The way he picked at the chili she made, or the jambalaya, or the collard greens with smoked pork, or the cornbread, or any recipe she’d gotten from her father. It wasn’t “upscale” enough for him, which meant she hadn’t been either. The expression on his face when she put on the little black dress he’d bought her for a gala fundraiser. Privately, she hated it. She liked dresses that flaunted her curves, while he wanted her to disguise them.
