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But Jill, from what I gathered, had some serious political connections. She was the daughter of some highfalutin federal officer back in Washington DC. I think she may have even gone to the same private boarding school as Brant and Brock had when they lived back East while their father was serving as a senator. And the rumor was that Brant was planning on running for office in the next election cycle. Or at least, his father was planning on Brant running. John Holland, the retired US Senator, had expectations of his sons, and his sons always met them with flying colors.
Brock fiddled with one of the pencils used to smooth out the copper tape. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”
“I hope it’s worth breaking Dani’s heart.”
He whipped his head toward me, his jaw pulsing. The anesthesiologist and army reserve major could be quite intimidating. Good thing I knew he had a heart of gold, no matter how stupid he was being.
“Do you think I want to hurt her?” His pain came through loud and clear by the way his voice shook.
“Regardless of whether you want to or not, you are.”
He leaned in. “I’m not the only person breaking hearts tonight. You need to talk to him.” He nodded his head in Jonah’s direction.
“I have talked to him.”
“So I heard.” Brock chuckled.
My brow popped. “And what did you hear?”
Brock pushed his stool back and stood. “I think I’ll let you ask him.” He sauntered off in Dani’s direction. Dani’s face lit up when she saw him walking her way. What a weird mess we were all in.
I stood, ready to walk around and see if anyone needed my help with attaching the hooks to their ornaments, the final step of the process, but Jonah apparently decided it was time I stopped avoiding him. He left his daughter in Kinsley’s care and headed my way. In a panic, I darted toward my personal workbench where I made custom orders. Jonah wasn’t deterred by my ridiculous behavior.
While staring down at some of the stained glass pieces I had cut earlier in the day, Jonah sidled up to me. His warmth and clean scent hit me like a hurricane. So much of me wanted to get swept away in it, in him, but my fears always prevailed.
“Did you get your bread?”
My head jerked up. “What?”
“Last time I saw you, you said you needed to buy bread.” He held his laughter in, but it played all over his handsome face.
I nudged him with my shoulder, embarrassed. “As a matter of fact, I did. Thanks for asking.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” he teased.
We each seemed to take a deep breath at the same time and let it out slowly. A long, silent pause filled the air between us.
Whitney and Kinsley caught my eye. It looked like Whitney passed on Kinsley’s cookies. Odd. “Your daughter’s beautiful,” I commented.
Jonah looked at his daughter with a mixture of adoration and something else. Worry, maybe? “She is. Thank you. I’m looking forward to you getting to know her better.”
I bit my lip. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
Jonah, with no thought for my unsettled state, took my hand as if it was the natural thing to do. Oh, how I had missed his touch. It was like Xanax for my soul. He clung tightly so I wouldn’t pull away. We had never touched in public before, except for when my mother was in hospice, dying. No one questioned his motive for holding my hand then. Any friend would have done the same.
“Please don’t leave,” he begged, as if he knew I was ready to bolt to anywhere he wasn’t. He brushed his thumb across my hand, sending sparks through my entire body.
“Jonah, everyone’s staring at us.” By everyone I meant our friends and his daughter, which made me feel self-conscious. What must his daughter think of this? Her parents hadn’t been divorced very long.
“Let them.” He turned me toward him, making sure we were eye to eye. He was several inches taller than my five-foot-seven frame, so I had to look up. Being this close to him made me realize Dani and Kinsley were right, there was something missing from his eyes. The playfulness that used to be in them was dimmed. My free hand itched to rest on his stubbled cheek, to caress it until the light returned to his eyes. But it wasn’t fair of me. Letting him hold my hand was already pushing it. I didn’t want to lead him on, lead him to where I had led him before—a dead-end road.
“Hi,” he said as if we were meeting for the first time in a long time.
It made my heart skip a few beats. “Hi.”
“I missed you,” he easily admitted.
I missed him too, but I wasn’t sure how to respond.
