Page 74 of The Hang Up
But she hadn’t checked the windows yet on the other side of the house. She turned and jogged that way, rounding the corner into the backyard as she tried to recall if she’d locked the back door. She always did, but maybe she’d forgotten. Or maybe she’d left the bathroom window cracked. Or maybe?—
“Hello there.”
Miriam jumped at the sound of his voice. And at the sight of three vases of flowers and endless platters of food spread out on her picnic table. She froze in her tracks, gaping at Jason standing there in the middle of it all wearing a three- piece suit and a hopeful smile.
“Holy shit!” she gasped.
“Now now,” he said, grinning as he pulled the cork out of a bottle of wine. “Profanity at the dinner table is unprofessional. Of course, I’m not here for professional reasons, so swear all you want.”
Miriam stared, dumbfounded. Her table was covered with a white linen cloth and more plates than she could count, each one topped with a silver cloche. There were polished sterling utensils that looked like the real deal, maybe antique.
“They belonged to my grandparents,” he said, reading her mind. “Ellie helped me get them out of storage. Then she went with me to a wine-tasting class so I could learn to stop slaughtering the names of the varietals and start ordering wine like a grown-up.” He grinned and picked up a red wine glass. “Can I interest you in a glass of Viña Carmen Cabernet Sauvignon Maipo Valley Alto Gran Reserva? It’s rich and well-spiced with ninety-one points fromWine Spectator, but also very affordable at under twenty dollars a bottle. I’m a CEO on a budget, after all.”
“What the—” She stopped, not sure which question she should be asking first. “How did you—” She shook her head. “Wait, how did you and Ellie go to a class together? I thought you wouldn’t ever leave Henry with a sitter?”
“That’s the thing.” He looked down as he poured the wine carefully into two glasses. “It turns out the nurse babysitter is really great, and I was being an overprotective dumbass.” He set the bottle down and looked at her. “As a matter of fact, I was being a dumbass about a lot of things.”
She glanced down at the mud puddle pooling around her feet. Her legs were streaked with mud. Her arms were streaked with mud. Hell, she had mud in her underwear.
And to think she used to worry about running into an ex on a bad hair day.
She looked back up and met his eyes again. “How were you being a dumbass?”
“I thought I couldn’t do it all,” he said. “I couldn’t be a good CEO and a good uncle and a good brother and still have anything left over for a relationship. For you.” He gave her a sheepish look. “I was wrong.”
I was wrong. God, what was it about those three words? So much harder to utter than “I love you” or “I want you.” It took a damn big man to say them.
Jason Sanders was a big man. Areallybig man. Still, hehadgiven up on her.
“You think I’m just going to nod and smile and everything will go back to the way it was?” she asked.
“Hell, no. I think you’re going to bust my balls over this. You have every right to.”
“You kinda broke my heart.” It sounded a little cheesy when she said it out loud, but it was true, dammit. The memory of him telling her goodbye at urgent care made her chest ache even now.
“I don’t take that lightly,” he said. “But I plan to do my best to piece it all back together. Duct tape works wonders.”
This time, she couldn’t fight the smile. “I’m sorry, too,” she said as she brushed a muddy curl from her eye. “For rushing things. For not giving you space to ease into the idea of a relationship.”
“Please,” he muttered. “You don’t owe me an apology for that. I don’t want any space. I just want to be with you. Smother me all you want, woman.”
Miriam smiled as her heart begin to melt in her chest. “You should probably take a rain check on the smothering,” she said, then took a few steps closer to peer at the perfectly set table and the perfectly dressed man standing beside it. “At least until I can break into my house to take a shower. I can’t believe you haven’t commented yet on my appearance.”
“A wise woman once told me it’s not polite to ask a lady personal questions about her age or relationship status,” he said as a blob of mud dripped off the hem of her shirt and spattered the tip of his polished shoe. Jason didn’t flinch. “I figured maybe that extended to asking whether she’s started a career as a professional mud wrestler.”
“Close.” She wiped her hands on her shorts before remembering those were mud-soaked, too. “If your survival skills happen to extend to picking a lock, maybe you can get me into my house?”
“I’m not much of a lock picker, but I met a great locksmith a few weeks ago. If I call him, I can have you inside in a matter of minutes.”
“In that case, maybe I’ll wait and tell you all about this in the shower.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Is that an invitation?”
She smiled and nodded, not sure whether she felt giddier at the prospect of having Jason polished and professional at her dinner table or wet and soapy in her shower. The knowledge that she could have both felt exhilarating.
She gestured toward the table. “I don’t want all this to go to waste. Will dinner keep for a little bit?”
“Not a problem. It’s all reheatable. I made chicken breasts braised in white wine with artichoke hearts and a side of kale and shallots sautéed with lemon juice. I might have burned the kale a little, but if we just?—”
