Almost Like Love(60)

Kate took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and went into the kitchen to make dinner for herself and Jacob.

She had no reason to feel like an idiot. Ian was the idiot. And in the long run, he’d hurt himself a hell of a lot worse than the women he slept with. They’d get over the momentary pain of being dumped, but Ian was stuck with himself forever.

And it wasn’t like she’d gotten nothing from the experience. She’d had the best sex of her life, and a taste of the kind of passion and intimacy she was looking for in the bedroom. Ian wasn’t capable of giving that to a woman on a long-term basis, but that didn’t mean no man was. She just had to find someone who could make her feel the way Ian did but who was actually capable of commitment.

As impossible as it had seemed just half an hour ago, Kate was starting to think she and Ian could go back to being friends. God knew he needed one, and so did his nephew.

Although she would draw the line at babysitting during dates. She might be exhibiting some impressive emotional maturity here, but she wasn’t a martyr. Ian could find someone else to stay with his nephew while he slept his way around Manhattan.

Jacob went to bed at nine thirty, and Kate turned on the TV.

She actually got caught up in a new sci-fi show she hadn’t had a chance to watch yet—so much so that when Ian got home, she looked up in surprise.

“Is it midnight already?” she asked, glancing at the clock on the TV. It was only eleven.

She looked back at Ian. “How was your date?”

He stood across the living room from her, looking tense and unhappy.

It was good to know he felt a little guilty. Seeing him so uncomfortable actually made her feel more at ease.

“It couldn’t have been too good,” she went on. “You’re home early, after all.”

He took a few steps towards her, his expression uncertain. “It was okay,” he said after a moment. “How was your night?”

She shrugged. “All right, I guess. Jacob and I had spaghetti for dinner.”

“Spaghetti, huh? That sounds good.”

He looked like he was waiting for her to strike him dead. She almost felt sorry for him. Had he spent the evening wondering what she was going to do to him when he got back?

The thought made her smile. Emotional maturity, it seemed, was its own reward.

She rose to her feet.

“I guess I’ll head home now. I’ll see you Tuesday—if you still need me to pick up Jacob after school that day.”

His eyes searched hers. “That would be great,” he said after a moment. “If you—if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’m happy to help you out with your nephew. Although”—might as well get this out there—“I’d rather not be your go-to babysitter for date nights. Find someone else for that.”

He cleared his throat and looked away. “Yeah, of course. I really appreciate your help tonight, but—yeah. I’ll find someone else for . . . if I . . .” His voice trailed off.

“Good,” she said briskly, slipping on her shoes and grabbing her purse.

She headed for the door, and he followed her. She turned the knob, then looked back over her shoulder.

“Good night, Ian.”

“Good night,” he echoed, and then she was out the door.




Ian was in hell.

It had been one of the worst weekends of his life. He would have felt better if Kate had punched him in the face, which he probably deserved.

He’d lied about having a date. He’d spent the evening at the gym, working out like a goddamn lunatic.

He hadn’t been able to wait until midnight to go home. Whatever Kate had to say to him, he wanted to get it over with.

And then she’d been . . . great.

A little pissed, obviously. That had been clear when she’d told him that she wouldn’t watch Jacob on date nights. Which, of course, was perfectly reasonable.

Her whole attitude had been reasonable. She didn’t pretend she was happy about his dating other women, but she didn’t punish him for it, either.

He should have been relieved. Kate had let him off the hook, and a hell of a lot sooner than he’d expected or deserved.

Instead, he was miserable.

Was it possible that that was what she’d intended? Was this some kind of Machiavellian plot to make him want her back?

If so, it was working.

But he couldn’t believe that Kate was trying to manipulate him. She was too straightforward, too transparently honest.

On Sunday afternoon he took Jacob to the new Spider-Man movie, but he couldn’t concentrate on what was happening on the screen. His thoughts kept returning to Kate.

What was she doing now? Had she called Simone to tell her what a prick he was and to make plans to go clubbing?