“Not an unusual occurrence for you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He hesitated, and after a moment Mick raised an eyebrow. “So what made this different?”
Deciding there was no point in pretending it wasn’t, Ian found himself telling Mick about Kate. How he’d worked with her for two years, how he’d cancelled her show, how he’d come to her rescue that night at the club . . . and everything that had happened afterwards.
“Huh,” Mick said when he finished. He took a bite of his scrambled eggs and chewed thoughtfully for a minute. “One thing comes to mind,” he said after he’d swallowed.
Ian took a gulp of coffee. “Just one?”
“Do you remember back in eighth grade, when we couldn’t find a single girl who was interested in playing Dungeons & Dragons? You said if you ever met one, you’d marry her.”
He almost spit out his coffee. “For God’s sake, Mick. I can’t hear something like that on an empty stomach.”
“So have a piece of my toast.”
Ian sat back and dragged a hand through his hair. “I’ve got to let her down easy, that’s all. I just . . . don’t want to lose her friendship. And Jacob likes her so much.” He looked at Mick. “I really screwed this up, didn’t I?”
His friend shrugged. “Not necessarily. Kate sounds like a reasonable woman. If it really matters to you, you’ll find a way to fix things.”
He felt a little better. “Maybe you’re right.” Suddenly hungry, he waved the waitress over.
He ordered pancakes and bacon and grabbed a piece of toast from Mick’s plate. “It’s good to have you back, man. Do you have pictures from the honeymoon?”
Mick grinned. “Of course. But I’m not going to make you look at them.”
“In that case, it’s really good to have you back.”
He didn’t call or text Kate until Tuesday morning, and, to his intense relief, she didn’t call or text him, either.
On Tuesday he sent this: Are you still good to pick up Jacob today?
A few minutes later she replied, Absolutely! See you tonight.
Casual and upbeat. So far, so good. Maybe this would be easier than he’d expected.
He felt good all day, and he was still feeling good as he rode the elevator to his apartment after work.
Then he opened his door.
A mouthwatering aroma wafted towards him from the kitchen. Even as his stomach rumbled in anticipation, worry drew his brows together in a frown. A woman cooking in his apartment could mean only one thing.
She was thinking about the future.
Don’t jump to conclusions, he told himself as he headed for the kitchen. Maybe she’d just felt like cooking.
Kate stood with her back to him, humming to herself as she stirred something on the stove.
She looked so damn cute in her jeans and a short-sleeved blouse, her feet bare and a kitchen towel tossed over one shoulder. And she really did have the best ass he’d ever seen.
He cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said, and Kate turned around.
“Hey!” she said, sounding happy to see him. Then she crossed the space between them, slid an arm around his neck, and gave him a kiss on the lips. “How was work?”
How was work?
It was a girlfriend question. A relationship question.
Not to mention the fact that she’d kissed him hello.
“Fine,” he said, avoiding her eyes by walking over to the stove. “What are you making?” he asked, wincing when he heard the words come out of his mouth. That was a relationship question, too.
“Hungarian mushroom soup, chicken casserole, and salad,” she said, coming to stand beside him.
She dipped a spoon in the soup, which smelled freaking amazing, and held it out for him to take a sip.
Except that he couldn’t.
This whole scene was so domestic, so warm and cozy and casually intimate. His stomach muscles knotted, and a wave of panic rose in his throat.
He backed away from the stove.
Concern filled Kate’s blue eyes. “Are you all right?”
He couldn’t have The Talk with her right now. Not after she’d cooked this incredible meal and was standing there looking so sweet and beautiful and worried about him.
So he just shook his head. “I feel bad telling you this after you went to so much trouble, but I think I’m coming down with something. It’s been coming on all day. My stomach’s really off, so I probably shouldn’t try to eat anything.”
“Of course,” she said immediately, and the fact that there wasn’t a hint of a pout in her voice or her expression only made him feel worse. “Why don’t you go lie down while Jacob and I have dinner? I can make you some tea if you’d like, or—”