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He stopped abruptly. She saw his Adam’s apple ripple in his throat. For the flash of a second the expression in his gaze wasn’t guarded at all. It was something that looked a lot like pain.

“Maybe what?” she asked quietly. “Maybe what, Harry?”

He looked at her for so long and so hard, she found herself unable to breathe. The air between them sizzled. Cate felt dizzy and weak.

At first, she thought he wasn’t going to answer at all. He rubbed the back of his neck, cursed softly and met her gaze straight on.

“Maybe I was jealous,” he said.

Then he walked out of the room.

Cate didn’t know how long she stood there. Her body was in two states at once, frozen with shock and hot withsomething.

This was a joke, right? Harry was joking. His wit leaned toward the dry side. Surely, he was mocking her.

She waited five minutes for him to return. None of the stairs to the second floor creaked. No squeak of the front door opening and closing. The man simply vanished.

Possibly, her heart had been pounding so hard she hadn’t noted the audible signs of his exit.

Because she didn’t know what else to do, she began cleaning up the kitchen. She knew from staying with Harry in his penthouse apartment that the man liked order.

That meant he also tidied up as he cooked. All Cate had to do was load the dishwasher and put away the leftovers. When her grandmother’s kitchen was spotless again, she fought the panicky feeling in her chest.

If she had a car, she would hightail it back to Atlanta...and go somewhere, a hotel maybe. But she didn’t have transportation.

Even worse, she had put a chunk of money down on a venture that now seemed irrelevant at best.

What was she supposed to do?

Should she go for another run to clear her head? But she didn’t want Harry to think she was avoiding him. Part of her was angry. Where did he get off saying something like that and walking away?

Her first instinct was to talk to Jason about what just happened, and in the next breath, she realized how ironic that was. She had been ready to marry Jason Brightman, and now, she was what? Over him?

Maybe she needed professional help. Her head was in danger of exploding. She was confused and shocked and more than a little scared.

Years ago, her grandfather had built a small playhouse for Cate and Becca on the back corner of the property. Now Cate headed there instinctively, looking for a place where Harry wouldn’t find her.

Not that he was looking...

The little structure had held its own. The plywood was warped and the shingles on the roof needed replacing, but the narrow front door still opened easily as if the hinges had been recently oiled.

In anyone else’s backyard, Cate would have worried about spiderwebs and other creepy crawlies. But Grandpa would never let one of his creations get gross on his watch.

Cate squeezed through the doorframe and closed herself in. At one time, she and her sister had brought dolls here...and secret notes. Food, too.

Now, the eight-by-eight-by-eight room was empty. The inside walls were painted white. Near the top, Grammy had stenciled a garland of peach blossoms all the way around.

The flowers were faded. But the memories existed as strong as ever. Cate folded her legs crisscross applesauce and leaned against the wall. The little play structure boasted two real windows on the sides facing the neighbors’ yards. She couldn’t see Grammy and Grandpa’s house.

She felt lost. All she could think about was Harry saying he had been jealous. For years she thought he didn’t like her. Apparently, that wasn’t true.

It was the oddest thing, but she couldn’t decide how she felt about his revelation.

Was she upset? Relieved? Embarrassed?

Or deep down inside, was there some tiny part of her that was exultant and deeply touched?

It was hot in the small playhouse. And humid. The childhood version of a sauna. When she opened each window a couple of inches, she managed to get a nice cross breeze going.

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