“Something you’re going to sell in your friend’s shop?”
“I haven’t decided yet. It could be a gift for someone.”
He sat at the other end of the sofa and they chatted about the movie while they sipped their tea. When they’d run out of things to say about the lightweight plot, they fell silent. Jacqui couldn’t think of a thing to say to fill the suddenly noticeable quiet. The comfort she had felt with Mitch at the theater was dissipating now, leaving her inexplicably ill at ease again and much too aware of him sitting next to her.
She drained the tea in a long swallow, almost burning her throat because it was s
till hot. Fortunately, she managed not to sputter. That would have been embarrassing, she thought with a slight wince. “I’m getting really tired. Not much sleep last night. I think I’ll go check on Waldo and then head up to bed.”
Studying her face, Mitch nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll just watch the news and then I’ll probably turn in.”
Looking as though he’d settled where he was for a while, he reached for the television remote control as she stood with her empty teacup. He didn’t act at all as though they’d just been out on a date. So maybe she wasn’t the only one who had chosen not to view it in that light.
And how foolish was it that her feminine ego was just a little piqued that his attention had already wandered away from her to the TV?
“Thanks for taking me to the movie,” she said, hovering in the doorway. “I had a very nice time.”
He glanced away from the screen to send her a smile. “Thank you for going with me. I’ve been wanting to see that film.”
“Sure. So, um, good night. then.”
“Good night. I’ll be leaving very early in the morning, so don’t bother trying to get up to make breakfast. I’ll grab something at the hospital.”
She nodded, hesitated another microsecond, then turned to carry her teacup to the kitchen. For some reason, she felt as though there was something more she should have said, but she couldn’t for the life of her decide what it might have been. Mitch was already watching TV again anyway.
Maybe he hadn’t found her as interesting as he’d thought he would once he’d actually talked her into sort of going out with him. So much for her concerns about whether there would come an awkward attempt at a good-night kiss.
Realizing she was pouting a little, she pulled her bottom lip firmly back into place and told herself she was glad that precarious experiment was behind them now.
Mitch waited until Jacqui was out of his sight before releasing a long, pent-up breath. If she’d had any idea how hard it had been for him not to at least try to kiss her tonight, she’d probably have bolted from the room. Her lips had been so tempting when she’d pursed them slightly to blow on her hot tea, when she’d lowered her cup to leave her mouth moist and glistening. But he had been determined to prove to her that she didn’t have to worry about staying alone in this house with him even though he’d told her earlier that he was attracted to her.
He had no intention of taking advantage of their situation. Of putting her in an awkward situation with her employer’s brother. The fact that they were both staying here was unrelated to what he hoped was a developing connection between them, other than the fact that the enforced proximity had made him realize just how strong his attraction to her had always been.
Now, if only he didn’t do anything to run her off—figuratively, at least—before he even had a chance to see where that attraction could lead.
Jacqui could tell when Mitch dragged in at 9:00 p.m. Monday that he’d had a rough day. She’d gotten a call four hours earlier from his pleasant and efficient secretary informing her that Dr. Baker was in surgery and would not be home in time for dinner. Though she’d been a bit surprised by the call, Jacqui had thanked the woman for the call, and she’d been touched that Mitch had gone to the effort of getting the message to her.
She wouldn’t have minded if he’d simply not shown up for dinner, of course. He certainly had no obligation to eat there every evening, whether he notified her or not. From experience with her employers’ somewhat erratic schedules, she cooked nothing that couldn’t be safely stowed in the fridge and reheated later. But it had been thoughtful of him to let her know.
Taking one look at his face when he walked into the living room, she set her knitting aside and jumped to her feet. “You look worn out. Have you had anything to eat?”
“I’m not hungry, thanks.”
It wasn’t exactly an answer about when he’d last eaten, but she didn’t bother arguing with him. Even at this hour, it was still hot as blazes outside on this first Monday in August, so she didn’t offer hot tea. Instead, she said, “Sit down. I’ll get you something cold to drink. There’s fresh lemonade or a pitcher of iced tea. Which would you prefer?”
“You don’t have to—”
“Mitch,” she broke in firmly. “Which do you want?”
“Tea, please,” he conceded, sinking onto the couch.
“I’ll be right back.”
He had his head back when she returned only moments later, carrying a glass of tea and a plate of cheese, crackers, carrot sticks and olives, with a couple of cookies on the side—just in case he decided he was a little hungry after all.
“Thanks.” Accepting the glass, he smiled wryly when she set the food in front of him, but after taking only a couple of sips of the tea, he stacked cheese on a cracker and popped it into his mouth.
She sat on the other end of the couch, ready to hop up and run for more food if he still looked hungry after finishing this light snack. “Rough day, huh?”