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Mark tipped his head and smiled. “I like you,” he said. He looked at Alison. “I like her.”
“She has that effect on people,” Michael said drily.
Well, look at that. He found his words. I tilted my head up right as he looked down at me, his brown eyes crinkling. Alison and Mark faded away and suddenly we were in our own little world. Exes and babies were background noise. All I cared about was that Michael was looking at me with such warmth that I could feel its heat spreading inside of me, like sitting next to a fire on a cold day. It wasn’t a hot-and-bothered look, the kind he gave me right before the clothes came off. It was warmer than that, deeper than that. It was…loving.
Wait. That couldn’t be right.
I blinked, breaking eye contact. The moment was over, and I looked around, feeling slightly discombobulated. Alison was watching us with a wistful expression. That bothered me, digging under my skin like an itch I couldn’t reach. Not jealousy. I wasannoyed. This beautiful woman had a handsome husband—okay, not as handsome as Michael, but still easy on the eyes—and a baby. Where the hell did she get off, looking at Michael like that? He wasmine.
All right, maybe I was a little jealous.
“Brenda was our neighbor a few years ago,” Alison explained to Mark.
I gritted my teeth, irrationally huffy about her use of the wordour. Like she was emphasizing her connection to Michael just to spite me. Which was stupid. Of course she wasn’t. I was being territorial, as though Michael wouldn’t be saying goodbye when the season shifted to winter. Hadn’t I promised myself I would never feel this way again over a man? Jealous. Petty. Paranoid. Yet here I was, sinking in the mire of it. I knew it, and I hated it.
“Everything is organic,” Michael said, sounding completely normal. Alison’s effect on him seemed to have faded away, which eased my jealousy somewhat. “She grows all the ingredients herself.”
“Except the sugar,” Brenda put in. “We don’t grow sugarcane ourselves. But even the sugar is organic.”
“It’s amazing,” I told her again. “I’ll take one of each of the little jars, please.”
Brenda’s eyes widened. “That’s twenty varieties.”
“Yes,” I agreed. A tiny jar of jam would make the perfect bedtime snack. I peered into the bag I had been loading before Alison showed up and did a quick count. “I’ve got eleven here.” I added the missing varieties and then opened my purse.
But Michael stopped me and pulled out his wallet. “I’ve got it.”
His tone gave me pause. It felt weird accepting his offer. Even though I had announced myself as his girlfriend, I was very much aware that I wasn’treally. But I wasn’t about to argue with him in front of his ex-wife.
“Okay, but don’t think that means I’m sharing,” I warned him.
He handed Brenda his credit card and leaned down to whisper in my ear so only I could hear. “You share or I’ll tie you to the bed and lick it off you, kitten.”
His words sent a shiver of lust through me. I gave him a look. “I don’t think you understand how threats and incentives work, Michael.”
Brenda winked at me as she handed Michael back his card. “We miss seeing you around, Michael. Bring Nora to dinner sometime.”
“Plan on it,” Michael said, apparently forgetting that we weren’t really together and therefore didn’t do couple things like dinners with old neighbors. And that he wouldn’t be around to make good on his promise, anyway.
But now it was my turn to feel wistful, because for just a moment, I wished it were otherwise. I wished this was real. That I didn’t turn into a jealous, paranoid harpy when my heart was invested. That we could have dinner with his old neighbors, and maybe Brenda could teach me how to make jam. I wanted Michael to stay here in Hart’s Ridge, with me.
I wanted this to be real.
He hefted the bag of jam, keeping one arm still wrapped around my shoulder, and turned us as a unit to face Alison and Mark. “Alison, good to see you again. Mark, nice to meet you.” He managed to sound like he meant both statements.
“You too.” Alison smiled slightly, but her eyes were sad. “Say hi to Suzie for me.”
I could feel those sad eyes burning holes in my back as we walked away. I glanced sideways at Michael, trying to gauge his mood. His frown suggested it wasn’t great. I hated that for him. Hated Alison for blindsiding him, even though I knew she hadn’t planned it. Not knowing what else to do, I wrapped my arm around his waist and held on tight.
We walked the two blocks back to Michael’s apartment in silence, his arm still around my shoulder, my arm still around his waist. The second we walked through his front door, he dropped the bag of jam, pressed me up against the wall, and buried his face in my neck. He didn’t say a word, just held me like a drowning man holds a lifeline.
This worried me, mostly because if hedidneed a lifeline, he should find something not so prone to fraying and coming apart at the ends.
Maybe I should call Suzie.
But that would require removing myself from his arms, so no. I wasn’t going to do that. Not if this was where he wanted me. Having nothing else to give, I rubbed his back, running my palm up and down the muscles along his spine. He seemed to like that, so I took it further. I trailed my fingers up his neck then into his hair. I massaged the base of his skull with my fingertips, digging slightly to ease the tension I found there, and then scratched my nails gently over his scalp. He burrowed deeper into me and sighed, but it wasn’t a sad sound, thank god. He soundedcontent.
Maybe this was all he needed. To be touched and held and cared for. That, at least, I could do. I was good at that.
