Page 94 of Tempt
“It was fine.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just tired.”
“Same,” she said with a sigh. Then she added softly, “And I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d said those words, or even experienced the feeling. I wasn’t in the habit of missing people—and that was on purpose. But later, after I’d showered and climbed into bed alone, her absence gnawed at me like a physical ache.
I scowled into the dark. This wasnotsupposed to happen.
* * *
On Thanksgiving, I went to Jackson and Catherine’s house, even though I feared feeling like a fifth wheel at their dinner table. But their house was warm and welcoming, and it smelled delicious when I walked in. I handed Catherine a bottle of wine and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for having me.”
“Of course.” She smiled. “Go tell Jackson to make you a drink. I kicked him out of the kitchen because he kept getting in my way.”
“You don’t need any help with dinner?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got the girls. You men can be on dish duty after we’re done.”
“Sounds good.”
I found Jackson in the family room watching football. “Hey,” he said from his leather recliner. “How about a beer?”
“Sure.”
“They’re in the fridge over there.” He gestured to a wet bar along the wall. “Help yourself. I’d get up, but I don’t feel like it.”
I grinned and grabbed a bottle from the small beverage fridge beneath the counter. Popping off the cap, I sank onto one end of the couch.
“So what’s new?” he asked, lowering the volume on the flatscreen.
“Not much.”
“You’ve been quiet lately.”
“Have I?” I tipped up my beer.
“Yeah. Are you going to tell me what it is that has you so preoccupied or should I guess?”
I set my jaw and shrugged.
Jackson laughed. “Okay, we’ll play this game. I think it’s the girl back in Michigan. The one who sent you the care package. I think you’re still hung up on her.”
“I’m nothung upon her,” I said defensively, although that’s exactly what I was.
“But you’re still thinking about her.”
I took a long pull from the bottle and decided to be up front with Jackson. “If I was justthinking, there wouldn’t be a problem. Or at least, it wouldn’t be so big.”
“You mean you’ve seen her again?”
“Twice,” I confessed. “She met me in New York in October and in Vegas this month. We’re meeting up next weekend in Chicago.”
“Jesus, Zach.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Why are you doing this?”
