She counted on her fingers. “With the delivery girls from the dairy. With the volunteers from St. Joseph’s University. With the woman from the res—”
Her words died in her throat, and her mouth twisted as though she’d tasted something sour.
“What woman? From where?”
She shook her head. “Never mind. Is there any of that cheese left?”
“Yes, but I’ll feed you in a minute. What woman, Sadie?”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
He ground his teeth together and leaned closer. “Then tell me why you didn’t want me to kiss you.”
She growled and shoved at his chest. “Why do you never leave these things alone?”
He rolled off her but caught her arm as she tried to escape the bed. “Because you can’t run away from me without literally freezing to death, and I need to know what is going on in your head. I won’t tease you, I promise.”
Sadie tugged the quilt around her shoulders. “Because you wouldn’t mean it.”
He groaned his frustration. “What does that mean?”
With a grunt, she pushed to her feet and swung around to face him, looking like an avenging angel in a secondhand blanket. “Because you’d never want to hurt my feelings. So you’d pretend that you enjoy kissing me, and that what we’re doing means more than simply passing the time until we can leave here. Then you’d have to let me down gently, and things will be terrible and awkward between us, and I can’t bear to have you keep your distance from me.”
A trolley might as well have run him flat on the street. His mouth worked, gaping like a fish while he searched for words, and he wasneverwithout words. “Sadie, do you think I would doanyof this—” he gestured vaguely to the space between them, “—if you didn’t mean something to me? If I didn’t care for you at all?”
She raised her chin. “But you’re courting another women.”
He scoffed and sat up, tossing his legs over the edge of the bed. “That’s news to me. Who exactly am I courting?”
“Whom.”
He tilted his head. “Who is that?”
“Whom,“ she repeated, although it clarified nothing. “Whom is the object, who is the subject, so you should say, ‘whomexactly am I—’”
“Sadie, for god’s sake, tell me who—whomyou think I’m courting?”
“Rose’s friend Eloise.” Her voice shook on the last word. “I saw the card she wrote you.”
Garrett barked a laugh. “I’ve never even set eyes on Eloise. I’m not certain she exists. Rose is determined to see me settled down, so she keeps arranging calls with her friends. I’ve made excuses every time.”
She blinked rapidly—good lord, was shecrying?He would never forgive himself if he made her cry.
“You’ve made excuses because you’re courting the woman from the restaurant.” She sniffed and tugged the blanket around her more tightly.
“What woman?”
“The beautiful one, with the blond hair?”
He shook his head as he racked his brain for a memory to reconcile with her words. “I don’t know who—whomyou’re talking about.”
“You do.” She clearly restrained herself from stomping her foot. “She was there the night you asked me to dinner. You—I thought you had that flower for me, but you put it in her hair, and…” She trailed off, her eyes trained on the floor.
Garrett’s mind battled between horror and utter bemusement. He leaned forward and reached for her hands, but she pulled away. “Look at me.”
She shook her head.
He stood and put one finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “Sadie, listen to me. That woman is my sister.”
