That said, your Aunt Kathleen is very upset, and she keeps calling and saying over and over how you owe Ron an apology for allowing him to be humiliated in that way. Again, I know it’s NOT your fault, but could you possibly tell Ron you’re sorry in a brief email? If you forwarded the message to me, I could send it to Kathleen, and I think she’d feel better then.
Also, now that you have some free time, your father and I would love your company for a few days! We’ve been thinking about painting the den a different color. Maybe sage green? Anyway, you know how your father hates doing the corners and edges, and my knees won’t let me sit on the floor for hours anymore, so your help would be more than welcome. You’re so good at cutting in.
When you visit, I’ll do a roast and make Potatoes Anna, your favorite. Just let us know when you can come.
Love you, sweetheart,
Mom
19
“OH, JESUS,” LAUREN SAID WITH FEELING.
Say yes, he’d urged, and God help her, she’d almost agreed to whatever Alex’s cockamamie plan might be on the spot.
He’d ruined her. Without him, everything should have been quiet and peaceful since her late-night arrival at her duplex. Instead, everything had been quiet and boring. Quiet and boring and—sad. Too sad to sleep, given how she’d wound up sniffling every few minutes.
And now he was touching her, cupping her face with his warm, strong hands, and she couldn’t remember why she’d been crying only moments before. If pressed, she wasn’t certain she could reliably recall her own name.
“Such suspicion, Wren. I’m terribly offended.” He made a tsking sound. “As an apology, I’ll accept your willingness to hear me out before you say no. Agreed?”
His solemn frown had entirely transformed into a grin of smug triumph, glee over his no-doubt-awful idea beaming from his fatigue-creased face. With one last, gentle sweep of his thumbs over her damp cheeks, he dropped his hands and took a half step back, and her skin abruptly prickled with chill.
The handsbreadth of space didn’t allow her to regain her equilibrium. Not when he still stood within easy touching distance, close enough that his flagrant appeal, his unabashed sexiness, was an unavoidable taunt.
Another Henley clung to his chest, cream-colored and unbuttoned just enough to show a flash of golden, hair-dusted skin, its pushed-up sleeves framing his thick, corded forearms. Faded jeans hugged those strong thighs close. So close.
She had to drag her gaze away from his thighs and his forearms, but his face wasn’t any better. Despite the shadows under his eyes and the lines bracketing his mouth, his smile was the sun. It dazzled her with its brightness. It burned away everything but him.
For a moment, helpless before that face, that voice, that body—all Alex was, and all he’d been to her—she could only blink and stare.
He tilted his head. “Lauren?”
His storm cloud eyes saw her entirely too well. Under their scrutiny, she blinked again and tried to remember what exactly they’d been talking about.
“Sorry.” She shook her head, hard, and gathered her scattered wits. “Listen, if this is about working for you—”
“I’m not offering you another job.” His face drooped, and damn, she knew it was an act, but it still tugged at her heart. “You’re not going to hear me out? Even though I said please?”
She cast her eyes to the ceiling. “First of all, you didn’t say please. Second, even if you had, saying please isn’t some magical incantation guaranteed to bring you your heart’s desire, Alex.”
“It’s not?” He frowned at her. “Then why have I been bothering all this time?”
When she covered her face with her hands, shoulders shaking, even she didn’t know whether she was laughing or crying.
“I don’t think you’re giving my proposal the solemn consideration it deserves,” he complained, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m calling the Humorless Harpies of America hotline to report your various misdeeds. I may file a formal grievance, if matters don’t improve.”
“Heaven forbid.” After wiping away telltale traces of wetness, she dropped onto the sofa. “Go on, then. I’ll give your proposal my full, stern, joyless attention, as required by HHA bylaws.”
The fondness in his regard tripped her already-racing pulse. “That’s all I ask.”
Her sofa could accommodate three people, but he settled right next to her and turned until his bent knee nudged her thigh. He didn’t apologize for the contact. Didn’t move away.