At the Heart of It Read online

  Kate flinched, and Jonah felt like an asshole. Okay, so that came out a little gruffer than he meant it to. The question—or maybe the bluntness of it?—seemed to catch Kate off guard. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, leaving Jonah staring at those perfect, soft lips for a little too long.

  Way too long. Jesus.

  He swung his gaze back to Vivienne. “What’s going on here?”

  “You two know each other?” Vivienne looked genuinely perplexed, which wasn’t like her. That killed his initial theory that this was some sort of weird matchmaker scheme, which was totally something Viv would do. Helping her ex-husband find love again would make a great bestselling self-help book.

  “I—we—” Kate was still fumbling for words, and Jonah couldn’t help remembering how cool and composed she’d been for their newlywed playacting in Ashland. That meant she was really rattled.

  He looked back at Viv again, trying to make sense of things. His ex-wife gave a stiff smile and swept an arm out over the parlor. “Please, Jonah—have a seat.”

  Christ. She only used his full name when she wanted something. After the publishing house had slapped him with that ridiculous “Average Joe” moniker during edits for On the Other Hand, Viv had taken to calling him Joe all the time.

  At least until she needed something from him.

  “I’m sure we can get this all sorted out,” Viv was saying as she poured him a glass of cucumber water. “Can I get you something else? A beer, maybe?”

  She was really laying it on thick. Beer? Really? At ten in the morning, when she used to flip him shit for drinking the stuff at all?

  She’d tried for years to make him a passionate wine connoisseur instead, signing them up for a couples’ pinot noir tasting class and booking a romantic vineyard getaway when all he’d wanted was a goddamn pale ale and a quiet afternoon with a good book.

  And now here he was getting worked up over the beer issue again when he still had no idea why Kate was sitting in Viv’s living room.

  Jonah shook his head and took the water glass. “Water’s fine, thanks.”

  He surveyed the array of seating options in the parlor and selected a leather club chair the color of squash puree. It looked new, something she’d acquired in the months since their divorce, along with this house. He’d been here only once before to pick up a cookbook that had belonged to his mother. They’d been cordial enough then, but something told him this was a different sort of meeting.

  He set the glass on the sleek glass coffee table, deliberately avoiding the coaster just to watch Viv blanch. Then he sat back with his hands on his knees and looked from one face to the next—Viv, Kate, and a curly-haired blonde who seemed so flustered she’d forgotten to introduce herself.

  “So what’s going on here?”

  The words came with an echo, and Jonah realized he and Viv had spoken them at the same time. He stared at her for a moment, resisting the urge to call “Jinx!” the way they might have in the early years of their marriage.

  Viv looked away first and focused on Kate. “I’m confused. You told me yesterday that you’d never met Joe. You were even joking about how you couldn’t find photos of him online.”

  “Jonah,” he muttered, not that anyone was listening.

  The blonde gave a vigorous nod and stared at him like he’d emerged from a spaceship. “It’s true about the photos. The only things we found when we Googled you were a couple pics from college and this one where you had a big lumberjack beard.”

  Jonah frowned, wondering why the hell any of these people would be Googling him. “The military required me to keep a low profile for a number of years,” he said.

  “And then he refused to have photos in the books,” Viv said in a tone that suggested she was still irritated about it.

  “Oh,” the blonde said as realization seemed to dawn. “We were also Googling Joe Porter, not Jonah.”

  Kate seemed to find her tongue at last. “Vivienne. This is—wow, such a coincidence.” She looked at Jonah then as though expecting him to correct her, but he apparently knew even less than she did.

  She licked her lips—a nervous gesture that sent his libido reeling—and flicked her gaze back to Viv’s. “So, uh—Jonah and I met four weeks ago in Ashland. We stayed at the same bed-and-breakfast and ended up going to the same play that afternoon and—”

  “Oh dear.” Vivienne raised a hand to her lips, eyes wide with amazement. Someone who didn’t know her well might mistake the look for dismay, but Jonah knew better. Viv lived for serendipitous shit like this.

  She looked at Jonah. “You two slept together?”

  “No!”

  This time it was Kate whose words came out in an echo of his, and Jonah looked at her again. She was shaking her head like the thought of sleeping with him was only slightly less repugnant than the thought of bathing in a pit of raw sewage. He tried not to take offense.

  “Definitely not,” Kate said. “We saw a play together and had dinner together and—”

  “Pretended to be married,” Jonah supplied.

  Hell, might as well put it all out there.

  “That’s not as scandalous as it sounds,” Kate said with exaggerated patience. “There were these two old ladies talking about the people next door having really loud sex, and Jonah and I—” She stopped there, probably realizing that any additional detail would make things sound more meaningful than they were. Kate cleared her throat. “Anyway, we saw a play together and had dinner afterward, but we didn’t even exchange phone numbers.”

  Jonah watched her speaking, intrigued that she didn’t mention the kiss. And that’s all it had been. Just a kiss, or more accurately, several long, drawn out, passionate kisses. Making out, if you wanted to call it that. The sort of kissing-for-the-sake-of-kissing that most people forget exists sometime between, “Are you taking the SAT prep course?” and, “I now pronounce you man and wife.” Kissing as the endgame, rather than foreplay.

  God, he’d loved that.

  But if Kate wasn’t going to say anything about it, he wouldn’t either. He still didn’t know what the hell was going on here, but he sensed he was better off not volunteering too much. He turned back to Viv, who was studying them both with that clinical, analytical look she always got when she was trying to burrow into a client’s brain and wiggle her fingers around in the dark, slippery layers.

  But she didn’t press for more information, so it seemed like a good idea to get on with whatever the hell had prompted her to invite him here.

  “So,” he said to Viv. “Want to tell me what this is all about?”

  Vivienne folded her hands in her lap and nodded. “Of course. In a nutshell, the Empire Television Network would like me to star in a new unscripted television program called Relationship Reboot with Dr. Viv. They’ll follow one couple each episode from the point where they first appear in my office for counseling to the point where they leave with a decision to save the marriage or mindfully disentangle themselves from the union.”

  Mindfully disentangling themselves from the union was exactly what he and Viv had done, or at least what she’d suggested when she’d brought up the idea of divorce in the first place. The words still grated on him, and brought out his inner chest-thumping caveman the way it always did around her.

  Maybe that’s what she wanted. Why he was sitting here right now.

  “Let me take a guess,” he said, pulling off his glasses so he could polish them on the hem of his T-shirt. “You want me to be part of this show.”

  He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth. He’d look like a dick if he’d guessed wrong.

  But he wasn’t wrong. He could see from the way Viv pursed her lips, and the way Kate shifted uncomfortably on the sofa and looked down at the floor.

  Viv cleared her throat. “Based on the success of our co-authored book, and the fact that—”

  “No.”

  All three women frowned, but it was Viv who spoke first. “Jonah—”
r />   There she went again, using his full name. To this day, he regretted that stupid Average Joe moniker. Playing the Neanderthal to his ethereal, educated wife had seemed like a good idea at the time. But now . . .

  “We were able to function beautifully together during the publicity push for On the Other Hand, despite our separation,” Viv continued in her soothing-therapist voice. “Very maturely.”

  Jonah put his glasses back on and folded his arms over his chest. “Not that maturely.”

  “Having you as part of the show would lend an authenticity to it,” Viv said. “A relatability element.”

  Kate cleared her throat. “For what it’s worth, the focus groups we’ve tested the concept with so far found a male element to be vital for a show like this. Your contributions to On the Other Hand were some of the most compelling, heartfelt sections in the whole book. They literally changed my life.”

  She was selling it pretty hard, though there was an earnestness in her voice that almost sounded real. But hell, she knew how to act. He’d seen that firsthand.

  He looked away, needing to keep his focus on the subject at hand instead of the lushness of Kate’s thighs crossing and uncrossing under that snug little skirt. Jonah tugged at his collar and turned his attention back to Viv. “You swore when we finished that publicity tour that we’d be all done. No more.”

  “I know that,” she said. “It was a promise I meant at the time, but things change.”

  “No shit.”

  God, he sounded like a bitter ex-husband. He wasn’t really. The divorce had been friendly enough, and they’d parted on decent terms. What was it about sitting here with her that made him turn into a goddamn cretin?

  “Jonah,” Viv tried again. “Just hear us out.”

  “I don’t think so. Have you forgotten the fact that I hate TV appearances? Remember how many we did during the push for On the Other Hand?”

  “Zero.” Viv pressed her lips together. “We did zero. You also wouldn’t pose for a book jacket photo. Not even the hands on the cover are ours.”

  A flash of hurt shot through Viv’s eyes, but she looked away before he could even think about apologizing.

  “Exactly,” Jonah said, trying to soften his voice but not succeeding. “I hate having my picture taken. So what makes you think I’d agree to do a fucking TV show?”

  Viv sighed. “We’ve been apart for almost two years, Jonah. I’ve certainly changed in that time. I was hoping maybe you had, too.”

  She was baiting him, he knew. Trying to gain the upper hand in the game of who’s-the-most-mature-and-enlightened-party-in-this-divorce.

  It was a game he’d never won, never tried to win.

  He glanced at Kate and the woman sitting next to her, though it was Kate who held his attention. Kate, whose copper-colored eyes made him think that even though he damn sure wasn’t doing any television show, sitting here in her company for a few more minutes wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

  She held his gaze a few more beats, then folded her hands in her lap. “Would you like to at least hear the proposal?”

  Jonah hesitated. Recalled how willingly she’d gone along with his harebrained acting scheme in Ashland. Recalled the feel of her lips brushing his, the softness of her hip as he’d skimmed his hand up her body as they kissed.

  Not the most helpful memories, under the circumstances. Jonah sighed.

  “Not really,” he said. “I’m sorry to waste your time.”

  The blonde winced as Jonah started to stand, but Kate’s expression didn’t falter. To his left Jonah heard Viv’s voice again.

  “Jonah, please give this a chance,” she pleaded. “The network executives will be here in less than two hours.”

  He frowned. “And that’s my problem?”

  Viv folded her hands in her lap. “I thought you’d be open to hearing about this,” she said. “Keeping an open mind.”

  “Huh,” Jonah said. “I guess you thought wrong.”

  The afternoon light was waning and so was Kate’s energy by the time she caught up with Jonah walking a red-and-brown fox-sized dog along the waterfront pathway in Alki Park.

  At least, she assumed it was Jonah. She’d never seen him with his shirt off, so she hung back a good twenty paces behind to make sure it was really him.

  Okay, maybe she was checking him out. Good Lord, the man was chiseled. He had muscles in his back that Kate hadn’t known existed, and a tattoo of a sword on one shoulder blade. The contrast of that tattoo against his tanned flesh and against Kate’s own memories of the cultured bookstore owner she’d met a month ago made her palms clammy and her pulse drum in her head.

  How had she not noticed before how ripped he was?

  Kate wasn’t the only one noticing.

  “Oooh, can I pet your dog?” A buxom brunette approached from Jonah’s left and didn’t wait for an answer. Just stooped down to pet the cinnamon-colored mutt wearing an orange vest that read Adopt Me!

  Jonah stopped walking and shifted the leash to his other hand, preventing his canine charge from clotheslining his new admirer. “That’s Buster,” Jonah said, reaching up to adjust his glasses. “He’s up for adoption at Clearwater Animal Shelter.”

  Kate moved closer and watched the brunette make an extra effort to provide a glimpse down the front of her top. “I just love little doggies,” she said. “You want to come home with me?”

  Her gaze lifted to Jonah when she said it, and Kate watched his face to see if he’d taken it as an invitation. He still hadn’t noticed Kate, and studying him now gave her a voyeuristic thrill.

  But Jonah seemed unaffected by both the cleavage and the flirtation, which only seemed to pique the brunette’s interest. Her eyes widened as he fished into the pocket of his navy athletic shorts and pulled out a card.

  “Here’s the info for Clearwater Animal Shelter,” he said. “They’re just three blocks that way, and they have a lot of other great animals up for adoption.”

  “You work there?” The brunette straightened up, glancing once at Kate as though assessing the competition. Finding it lacking, she returned her gaze to Jonah.

  That’s when he seemed to notice her. Jonah turned to look her direction, holding her gaze as Kate took a few steps closer. He didn’t smile, but she could have sworn she saw a warmth that hadn’t been there two seconds before.

  “I’m a volunteer,” Jonah said, sliding his gaze back to the brunette. “Will you excuse me? I need to make sure Buster gets his exercise.”

  “Absolutely.” The brunette gave a chipper little wave, then turned on her heel and flounced away.

  Jonah didn’t watch her go. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Kate and watched as she covered the few steps that still separated them. Something about the way his eyes swept her body made Kate feel as topless as he was.

  He was first to speak. “Either Viv told you where to find me, or the level of coincidence here has just gone from ‘crazy’ to ‘I need a restraining order.’”

  Kate shook her head and offered a nervous smile. “Nope, it’s still just crazy.” She wiped her palms down her gray pencil skirt and wished she’d stopped at the hotel to change. She felt stiff and overdressed standing in heels and a navy silk cowl-neck top beside a shirtless man with pecs she really should stop ogling. There was a faint dusting of hair on his chest and Kate wondered if it would feel as soft as it looked.

  She cleared her throat. “Viv told me you’d be here,” she continued. “I felt bad about the contentious turn things took back at her place.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “I apologize. Sometimes I can be a little hotheaded when I’m caught off guard.”

  Kate nodded, remembering one of the chapters in On the Other Hand where Viv and Jonah bantered about each other’s most unfavorable traits. Temper and forgetfulness had topped Jonah’s list.

  Bossiness and self-righteousness had topped Viv’s.

  “It’s okay, I understand,” Kate said.

  “No
, it’s not okay. I’m sorry. I don’t always react well to surprises.”

  “Understandable,” Kate said. “Those were two pretty big ones.”

  “Thanks!”

  Kate turned with a start as a busty blonde jogged past with a wave for Jonah. With a grimace, Kate ordered herself to keep her voice down. She turned her attention back to Jonah, who seemed oblivious to the awkward exchange.

  “Mind if I walk with you for a bit?” Kate asked him.

  Jonah shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s a free country.” He turned on his heel and started walking again. Kate fell into step beside him, hustling to keep up with those impossibly long legs.

  “It is a free country,” she repeated, glancing up to watch his expression. “Interesting choice of words. One might say your military service played a role in the whole ‘free country’ thing. You might have mentioned that when we first met.”

  “Why?” He looked at her. “It was a long time ago, and not what I’m doing for a living now.”

  “It might have given me a clue who you were,” she said, though the odds seemed slim she would have put the pieces together even then. “Anyway, I was hoping we could talk alone for a minute.”

  Jonah raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes. I seem to recall the conversation flowed a little more smoothly when my ex-wife wasn’t there.”

  The comment sent a flush of heat through her face and throat, which was dumb. He was talking about conversation in general, not where the conversation had led that evening on the porch swing.

  “Right. There’s that.” Kate took a deep breath as she hurried to keep up with him. “Look, I had no idea who you were when we met in Ashland.”

  “The comic relief guy from a shitty relationship guide?” His tone was dry, and Kate felt an unexpected surge of defensiveness.

  “You know, that book has changed a lot of people’s lives,” she snapped. “The advice about communication and honesty and—”

  “Hi, can I pet your doggie?”