“Come on.” When he held her door open, she jumped out of the truck. “This way.” Jace led her around to the other side of the house and up the stairs to the deck that wrapped around the back.
He lit the patio warmers and pulled two of the Adirondack chairs closer together.
“We have a lot to talk about,” Jace said when they sat down. “Both of us. There was something you wanted to tell me a couple days ago, and I didn’t do a very good job of listening to you. Wanna try again?”
She folded her arms in front of her. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Wanting to do this and wanting to hear what you have to say are two different things. Yeah, I want to do this. Will it be hard for me to listen? Sure will, but I’ll do it anyway.”
Bree wasn’t prepared for this. When they’d talked, the other day, she’d planned what she wanted to say. Now she couldn’t remember a word of it.
“It was something Red said to me while I was still in Idaho. It made me think about you and me.”
Jace was quiet, his eyes focused on her mouth.
“Is this real, Jace, or are we just keeping each other company until someone better comes along?”
“That’s what Red asked you?”
“No, he just made me think. He asked what our story was. When I started to tell it, everything became clear to me.”
“Go on.”
“You said it yourself. You’re a detour. You don’t want to be a detour, Jace. I can’t let you be. And I can’t let myself go down that road. It’s as much self-preservation as anything else.”
“Stop talking about roads and detours, and just tell me how you feel.”
She probably didn’t deserve for him to make this easy for her.
“You’re…you. And I’m…me.”
He smiled. “Profound, Bree. Yes, you’re right on both counts.”
“Shut up,” she smiled back. “I’m trying to make a point, although I’m not doing a very good job of it.”
“I’m listening, Bree.”
He was. He was staring at her, and he was listening. She needed to choose her words carefully.
“I’m afraid.” Wait—that wasn’t what she’d wanted to say. Why did she?
“Keep talkin’, Bree.”
“Think about it. I mean, I just lost my husband. Or when we met, I had. And you were so…wrapped up with my sister, and Tucker. You didn’t even like me, Jace.”
“I’ve told you before, I liked you more than you liked me.”
“Maybe. But you have to admit, we didn’t like each other. Not at all. And then, all of a sudden, we were…”
“What?”
“You know, thrown together. I was hurting, drowning really. And you were distraught over Blythe and Tucker.”
She wished he would say something instead of just letting her talk.
“I’m not saying there isn’t a physical attraction, at least for me.”
“Come on, Bree, you know there is for me, too.”