can sleep on the couch.” She shrugged. “Or sleep in the master bedroom if you want. Nobody else does.”
The bitter tone was loud and clear, and it surprised him.
“Where do you sleep?” he asked her.
“In the guest room.” Her smile was bittersweet. “That’s why you can’t use it.”
He remembered glancing in at the master bedroom when he was upstairs. It looked like it had always looked. She and Brad had shared that bed. He looked back at her and didn’t say a word.
She didn’t offer an explanation, but he knew what it was. She couldn’t sleep in that bed now that Brad had abandoned it.
He nodded. “I’ll take the couch.”
She hesitated. “The only problem with that is, I’ll be getting up about four in the morning. I’ll probably wake you.”
“Four in the morning? Planning a rendezvous with the milkman?”
“No, silly. I’ve got to start warming the ovens and mixing my batter.” She yawned, reminding him of a sleepy kitten. “I’ve got a day full of large orders to fill tomorrow. One of my busiest days ever.” She smiled again. “And hopefully, a sign of success. I sure need it.”
“Great.”
“Wait here a second. I think I’ve got something you can use.”
She left the room and was back in moments, carrying a set of dark blue men’s pajamas.
He recoiled at the sight. “Brad’s?” he said.
“Not really.” She threw them down in his lap. “I bought them for Brad but he never even saw them. That was just days before he sent you to tell me we were through.”
“Oh.” That was okay, then. He looked at them, setting aside the top and reserving the pants for when he was ready for bed. Meanwhile, she was rummaging through a linen closet and bringing out a sheet and a light blanket. That made her look domestic in ways he hadn’t remembered. He thought about how she’d looked with Timmy in her arms.
“Hey,” he said gently. “That’s a pair of great little boys you’ve got there.”
She melted immediately. “Aren’t they adorable? But so bad!”
“I’ll bet they keep you busy every hour of the day.”
She nodded. “It’s not easy running a business from home when I’ve got those two getting more and more mischievous.” She sighed and sat back down. “Can you believe they were locking doors? I had no idea they knew what a lock was.”
“Time to dismantle some and add extra keys for others,” he suggested.
“Yes. And keep my eyes on them every minute.”
“Can’t you hire a daytime babysitter?”
“Yeah, hiring a babysitter really works out well, doesn’t it?” She shook her head. “Actually Trini, my bakery assistant, helps a lot. She doubles as a babysitter when I need her to, and does everything else the rest of the time. And then, Sara comes by and helps when she has a free moment or two.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “We manage.”
He resisted the impulse to reach out and brush back the lock of hair that was bouncing over her eyebrow. The gesture seemed a little too intimate as they sat here, alone in the dim light so late at night.
But Jill didn’t seem to have the same reservations he harbored. She reached out and took his hand in hers, startling him. Then she gazed deep into his eyes for a moment before she spoke. His pulse began to quicken. He wasn’t sure what she wanted from him, but he knew he couldn’t deny her much.
“Well?” she said softly.
He could barely breathe. His fingers curled around hers and he looked at her full, soft lips, her warm mouth, and he wanted to kiss her so badly his whole body ached with it. The longing for her seared his soul. What would she do if he just...?
“Well?” she said again. “Out with it.”
“What?” His brain was fuzzy. He couldn’t connect what she was saying to what he was feeling.
“Come on. Say it.”
He shook his head. What was she talking about? Her brows drew together and her gaze was more penetrating.
“My dear Connor,” she said, pulling at his hand as though to make him say what she wanted to hear. “It is time for you to come clean.”
“Come clean?”
He swallowed hard. Did she know? Could she read the desire in his eyes? Did she see how he felt about her in his face? Hear it in his voice? Had he really let his guard down too far?
“On what?” he added, his voice gruff with suppressed emotion.
“On why you’re here.” She was looking so intense. “On why Brad sent you.” She searched his eyes again. “Come on, Connor. What exactly does he want this time?”
Brad. His heart sank, and then he had to laugh at himself. Of course that was what she was thinking about. And why not? What right did he have to want anything different? What he wanted didn’t mean a thing. This was all about Jill—and Brad. As usual. He took a deep breath and shook his head.
“What makes you think Brad sent me?” he said, his voice coming out a bit harsher than he’d meant it to.
“You’re his best friend.” She frowned and looked pensive. “You were my best friend once, too.”
There you go. Too many best friends. He was always the odd man out. That was exactly why he’d opted for Singapore when he had the chance. And maybe why he would go back again.
He raised her hand and brought it to his lips, touching her gently with a kiss, then setting her aside and drawing away.
“Jill, you’ve had enough excitement for tonight. Let’s talk in the morning.”
“No, tell me. What does Brad want me to do?”
It was the question in her eyes that scared him—the hint of hope. She didn’t really think that there was a chance that Brad might want her back....did she? It wasn’t going to happen. He’d seen it with his own eyes.
Brad was a selfish bastard. It had taken him years to accept that. Maybe Jill didn’t realize it yet. Brad was a great guy to hang out with. Playing poker with him was fun. Going waterskiing. Box seats at a Mariners game. But as far as planning your life with him, he wouldn’t recommend it.
“Jill, I didn’t come for Brad. I came to see you because I wanted to come.”
Okay, so that was partly a lie. But he had to say it. He couldn’t stand to see the glimmer of hope in her eyes, knowing it would only bring her more heartbreak. He had a message from Brad all right. But right now, he wasn’t sure if he would ever tell her what it was. She thought he was on Brad’s side, but she was wrong. If it came to a showdown, he was here for her—all the way.
He just wasn’t sure how much she cared, one way or the other. She still wanted Brad. He could see it in her face, hear it in her voice. He shouldn’t even be here.
No worries. He would leave first thing in the morning. He couldn’t leave before six when the ferry started to run, but he would slip out while she was busy. No goodbyes. Just leave. Get it over with and out of the way and move on. That was the plan. He only had to follow it.
The couch was comfortable enough but he could only sleep in short snatches. When he did doze off, he had dreams that left him wandering through crowds of Latin American dancers in huge headdresses, all swaying wildly to exotic music and shouting “Mambo!” in his face.
He was looking for something he couldn’t find. People kept getting in his way, trying to get him to dance with them.