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‘Your father...I like him...but, jeez, he can be a pain in the ass,’ Jack said.
‘So does that mean you don’t want to talk to me about him?’ Ellie asked, sounding hopeful and a great deal less nervous.
Jack half smiled as he shook his head. ‘Sorry...I do need to talk to you about him.’
He raked his hair off his face, thinking about the book. Ken’s fascinating story was all but finished; Mitch’s was progressing.
Thank God he’d resisted all the collective pressure to get him to write his. Frankly, it would be like having his chest cracked open without anaesthetic.
He was such a hypocrite. He had no problems digging around other people’s psyches but was more than happy to leave his own alone.
Jack looked at Ellie, saw her still uncertain expression and was reminded that she was wary of having a strange man in her house. He couldn’t blame her.
‘And as for chasing you around your house? Apart from the fact that I am so whipped I couldn’t make a move on a corpse, it really isn’t my style.’
Ellie looked at him for a long moment and then her smile blossomed. It was the nicest punch to the heart he’d ever received.
