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He sighed. “Guilty.”
“Rafe.” She swatted playfully at him. “You’re a little sneak too.”
“Who you callin’ little? Have I not satisfied you multiple times this week?”
“Why, yes you have.” Her skin tingled. “Still… Why have you never told me you watch my show?”
His fingers whisked lower, over her jaw and down her neck to graze her collarbone. Every light touch felt intimate and stimulating, keeping Jenn aroused; but also physically connected to Rafe, which pleased her.
Of her question, he asked one in return: “Doesn’t that just condone the biggest issue between us?”
Jenna considered this a moment. Then, gazing into his eyes, she told him earnestly, “My show is not the biggest issue between us. My job takes me away from you, yes. But even if there wasn’t a show…”
“You’d still flit about?”
She sighed. “I honestly can’t say right now, Rafe.”
He slipped from the bed. Breaking that intimate connection between them. Jenna’s spirits dipped.
“I’m gonna shower,” he said. “Why don’t we order room service?”
“Sure,” she simply replied, feeling the impasse creep in on them.
They ate breakfast on the balcony with Tad. He and Rafe talked about San Francisco, and Jenna admired the view of the Financial District and the water beyond.
Setting aside her issues with Rafe for the moment, she thought instead of her sister. Was Linney out there somewhere? she wondered. Close by…down the street… around the corner… A BART ride away?
Did she ever think of Jenna?
Mentally shaking her head, Jenna wondered if there was any point to her ruminations. Did it even matter anymore where Linney was or whether she wished to reconnect with Jenna? After all these years?
Jenna didn’t know. Nor did she allow herself to dwell too much on the fact that she would be easy for Linney to track down. A call into the show. An email to one of her assistants. A query through the website… Jenna was not a wraith. She was a highly visible, public figure.
If Linney wanted to see her again, it wouldn’t take much trouble.
So there’s your answer.
With dismay clawing at her from all directions, Jenna finished her eggs and showered before she and Tad headed to the restaurant. Rafe told them he had a stop to make and would meet them there. She had a strong feeling she knew where he was off to…
* * *
The house smelled of rum toast—an Italian creation that put your typical French toast to shame. Vesta whipped hers up with bananas flambéed, vanilla, cinnamon and rum. It had been a treat for Rafe since he was a kid. They’d sit at the kitchen table sometimes when everyone else had left the house and he’d tell his aunt whatever weighed heavy on his mind while they ate. Ironic she’d made his favorite this morning. Or perhaps…just her usual intuitiveness.
He found her at the sink, cleaning dishes.
“Looks like you had a full house for breakfast,” he said as he joined her and kissed her cheek.
She smiled up at him. “Reesa and Sammy brought the newborn. Vinny and Macy wanted us all to sample a new crab cake recipe. Margaret and Bethany had mock-ups of the flyers for the church community sale I needed to approve. And Marco is home on military leave. Though I’ve only seen him a handful of times this week—always during a meal.” She laughed softly. “He’ll be a ‘growing boy’ until he’s seventy.”
At eighteen, Marco was her youngest of five. And the apple of her eye.
“I caught up with him a couple days ago. I’ll make it a point to see him again before he heads back to Fort Collins.”
“I should have a party for him before he goes. Get everyone together. Jenna will come, yes?” She gazed up at Rafe again, a hopeful look on her face.
“I don’t know, Aunt Vesta. Maybe.”
She frowned. “Have a cappuccino while I dry these plates. There’s more rum toast. You’ll have a couple slices?”
