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“Okay, with that out of the way,” she said and cleared her throat, “tell me what the heck’s going on between you and my son.”
Oh, crap.
I swallowed and sighed. “Nothing. We’re just friends.”
She shook her head. “Level with me, Jillian. Please. Because from the look of things, you’re a whole lot more than that.”
This was another one of those times where I wished like heck I could spill everything.
But I couldn’t.
Ever.
“The show twists things around to sensationalize—”
Heather giggled and interrupted me, “Sweetie, you called him honey on national TV. While you were wrapped around him like a boa constrictor.” She laughed again. “And he called you sweetness. None of this tells me you two aren’t knockin’ boots.”
My heart started to race.
I couldn’t tell her the truth.
And it didn’t seem like she was willing to let this go.
“Old habits, I guess. Wyatt laid down on us and he was warm and snuggly.” I looked out the huge atrium windows and watched the hustle and bustle of people walking around and the cars driving past. “And Cash was all warm and snuggly,” my voice trailed off.
Crap.
I was making this sound worse.
I looked back at Heather, and the sneaky grin she had on her face shocked me. “Lady, it sounds to me like you’re still carrying a flame for my son. And I’m one hundred percent sure he’s still carrying one for you. The only thing that’s stopping you is—”
I had to stop this.
And I had to stop it now.
“Heather, you don’t understand,” I said, because she really didn’t. And she never would. “I’m engaged to Stuart. We’re getting married.”
Her eyes scanned my face again. This time, she took a bit longer. To tell you the truth, it was more than a little unnerving. “You don’t look like you’re happy about that, sweetie. I’m not sure why.” She leaned forward and motioned for my hand. Defeatedly, I gave it to her. “If you need help with something—” she lowered her voice, “or with a situation, no matter how big. You know you can call me, right?”
Her eyes held mine for a long while.
Her kind, motherly, empathetic eyes.
“Thanks, but I’m okay, really,” I practically whispered, not sounding very convincing at all.
“Jillian,” she said, leaning forward, “I can help you with anything. If you’re in some kind of trouble, I swear I can help you. No judgments.”
I swallowed again over a dry lump in my throat.
Gosh.
It would be so easy to give up.
Tell Heather exactly what was going on.
Hand it all over to her.
But I couldn’t.
