“…And then she put her hands on her hips and with all the dignity an eight-year-old girl can muster, she said, ‘Daddy. I was being sarcastic.’”
Kari’s mouth dropped open. “She didn’t. At eight years old?”
Rob picked up his hamburger and nodded, grinning at the memory and proud of his daughter. “Yup. I should’ve known at that moment that she would end up working with words. The kid was precocious. She probably would have told you that herself at that age.”
Kari shook her head. “Sam had her moments, but…I don’t think I can imagine her saying that at eight. At twelve? Probably. At thirty-two? Absolutely.” She took a bite of her sandwich, then shook her head, chewing.
“Did you and Sam grow up close?” Rob asked. “You seem as thick as thieves.” Having shared some of Mia’s greatest hits, he was eager to know more about Kari and her niece.
Kari looked up from her lunch with a wry grin. “I was ten when she was born, so I’ve known her all her life. We were around each other a lot. My parents and Bjorn—my brother—and his family lived in the same little apartment building. Bjorn and his wife both worked and they dropped Sam off with Mor a lot. I’d come home from school and there’d be Sammie, coloring at the kitchen table. She and I have had our ups and downs, especially when each of us reached the teen years, but now we’re very close. Or we were.” Her face went apprehensive at that, and she put the potato chip she had been about to raise to her lips back on her plate. “Thanks for coming to dinner tomorrow. It means a lot.”
An emotion Rob couldn’t name pressed against his sternum. Something like longing and sadness and hope all twisted together. “I’m happy to help. You’ll be okay, you and Sam. You know that, right?”
Her mouth twisted. “I hope so. I can’t bring myself to count on anything, though. I’m afraid I’ll be disappointed.”
“She wants you to meet the new guy, right?”
Kari nodded, her eyes large and solemn.
“That sounds pretty big. Relax. If you can.”
“Right. I’ll get right on that. If I can figure out how.”
He almost blurted, Let me help you out with that. It surprised him how much he still wanted to say it. He had thought his years without dating and without sex had slowly leached most sexual impulses out of him—or at least made them easier to control. And after all, he was forty-eight. But Kari had him thinking like, well, not like a teenager. He wasn’t thinking about how he could gratify himself. He was thinking of how lovely her face would look all flushed and relaxed, her soft, pale hair spread out on the pillow, her lips curving into a satisfied smile.
These were thoughts he would have to shut down if he was going to implement his other idea.
“I was thinking about your bedroom situation—the paint smell,” he added quickly.
She looked at him, eyebrows quirking in curiosity.
“Come over to my place. You can spend the night in Mia’s old room.”
“Mia’s room?” She leaned back, the vinyl diner booth squeaking.
“Yeah. It was her room, that is. It’s a guest room now. Not that I ever have guests. A guest room in theory, you could say. You could make the theoretical real. Imagine the power.” Dammit, he was babbling again. But he hated the idea of her spending an uncomfortable night on the sofa. He could do this thing, make her life that little bit easier.
She frowned. “It would feel funny, staying in your daughter’s space.”
“It’s not hers. She has her own place now. There’s not so much as a Barbie left.” He remembered the wistful pang he felt when he realized what a clean sweep Mia had made of the room when she got her first real apartment. But that was Mia for you—all or nothing.
“I’d hate to ask it of you. It seems invasive.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”
“Are you sure?”
“Let’s put it this way. I don’t know that I would get a minute’s sleep thinking about you trying to make do on your sofa. You’d be doing me a favor.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “Right.”
“Really. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”
Kari considered his offer. It was tempting. Really, it was too tempting. A few minutes ago, something like heat had seemed to flare in his eyes, causing a corresponding rush of warmth to run through her. Now his face held nothing but friendly concern.
Or maybe she’d just been imagining that interested look. Wishing it into existence because she was attracted to him.
She thought about the picture he drew: her trying to get comfortable on her sofa when she was used to sprawling across her bed. He was right. It wasn’t going to be great. In fact, it was going to make for a downright uncomfortable night. There was a difference between a two-hour nap on the sofa and trying to spend an entire night on it.
“If you really mean it, then yes, thanks. It’s very nice of you.”
“I do mean it. I’ll just pop some sheets on the bed and it will be all ready for you.”
“Turn down service and everything,” she said.
He mimed a flourishing little bow. “I’ll find a mint and put it on your pillow.”
“I know you’re kidding but somehow, that’s the most adorable sentiment ever.” Kari finished her sandwich and caught the waitress’s eye. The waitress nodded and rifled through the check folders in the pocket of her apron, pulling one out and laying it in front of Kari. She turned to get her wallet out, putting her hand down on the folder when she saw Rob’s arm snaking across the table out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t even think about it.”
“But…”
Kari looked at him, making her mouth a straight line and letting her gaze bore into him. Rob met her eyes and lowered the hand that hovered over hers. Warmth from his palm permeated the back of her hand. Kari swallowed.
“Your ‘weaponized silence’ doesn’t scare me, Kari.”
Kari’s gaze skittered to the side. “I’m still buying lunch.” She had to keep this about practicalities, otherwise her feelings might spill out and make everything horrible and messy. And probably ruin everything.
Rob’s hand squeezed hers. “Okay.”
“What are we doing?” Kari’s voice was barely a whisper. Her eyelids slid closed, the darkness welcoming and terrifying in equal measure, Rob’s hand squeezing hers again just the littlest bit.
“Kari.”
“We’re not talking about lunch, are we?”
“No.” Rob’s voice was husky. “I think we need to talk about how attracted I am to you. I should really have mentioned it before I offered Mia’s room to you. Not that I had anything planned. Honestly. I was only offering a bed. For sleeping. I know you only think of me as a friend.” Kari’s eyes flew open as his words continued to tumble out. “But you should know. In case it makes you uncomfortable. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“Rob. Shh.” Kari lifted her free hand. “I’m not uncomfortable. Well, I am. But not because I only think of you as a friend.”
“What?”
Kari’s cheeks flamed. “You’re really attractive,” she admitted in a tiny voice. But god it felt good to finally be able to say it.
“I am?”
“You own a mirror, right?”
He shrugged. “I’m a forty-eight-year-old dad. I haven’t dated in almost a decade. I’ve gotten to a point where I don’t really think about it.”
“A decade?”
“Yeah. Turns out I was bad at dating. Or bad at being in relationships. Or just picked the wrong women. So, I quit dating. It just wasn’t worth it. Too much of a distraction from raising Mia. But then this beautiful Viking Shield Maiden moves in next door and I find myself thinking inappropriate thoughts because painting a wall sounds…” His cheeks reddened.
“Like sex,” Kari finished. “You thought so too? It was driving me nuts today.”
Rob’s eyes slid closed and he chuckled softly to himself. “So where do we go from here?”
“You’re asking me?” Kari gaped at him a little.
Rob shrugged. “I don’t have any bright ideas, but I was hoping you might.”
“You mean other than acting on it? Seeing where it goes?”
“Not the best idea.”
Her head tilted and she gave him a curious look. “What do you mean?”
He winced. “I like you. I want you to keep liking me. So that’s probably the worst kind of idea.”
“Why?”
“I mean my past—the breakups were always ugly.”
One corner of her mouth quirked in a tiny half-smile. “Oh. I see. You’re an incurable optimist.”
“Well, we’re both here, both single.”
“True. But who says we have to launch into a full-scale romantic relationship right away?”
“So you do have an idea.”
Kari shrugged. “Be friends. Feel our way forward. Don’t rush things. And don’t play out the ending before anything has started.”
Rob rubbed his face, his unshaved weekend cheek rasping against his fingers. Trouble was, he did want to rush things. “Mia did say I was too impulsive. And now it looks like the damn kid was probably right. Again.”
“Sounds disconcerting, having your child be that perceptive.”
“You have no idea.”
She considered him for a moment. “We can also be really awkward at each other. That seems to work well for us.”
“Oh,” he said, “I have a lot of practice at being awkward. I’m expert-level awkward. Nationally ranked.”
“I’ll try not to compete. I think I can be satisfied with second-banana-level awkward.”
“Okay, I’ll just enjoy my seat on the awkward throne all alone,” he said.
She tilted her head. “What does that throne look like?”
“It’s made of silly putty and upholstered with banana skins, actually. So, hand over that second banana.”
“Cute.” She eased her hand out from under his, opening the check folder and glancing inside before closing it around a few bills she took from her wallet. The waitress walked past and Kari handed the folder off. “That’s all set,” she said to the other woman with a smile.
“You keep up with that level of smooth and you’re not even rating second-banana awkward,” Rob said, already missing the soft skin of her hand against his.
“Your standards are very low, you know that?” she said, getting to her feet.
“I don’t know. I think I’m more discerning the older I get.” He rose and walked with her out of the restaurant, letting his hand come to rest at the small of her back as they reached the door and he opened it for her, finally allowing himself to stake a tiny claim. “Speaking of which, have I made things so entirely awkward that you’re going to suffer on your sofa tonight? I promise not to try anything funny if you want to stay in the guest room at my place.”
“What if I tried something funny?” Her light blue gaze slid sideways at him and seemed to pin him where he stood, one hand holding the door of the diner, his eyes locked with hers. As many lectures as Mia had given him on feminism and as much as he agreed with her, it somehow hadn’t occurred to him that Kari might take initiative in that way.
The thought sent a secret thrill down his spine. “Is that your idea of taking it slow?”
“It might be my idea of making it awkward. You never know.”
“I think I just might like your idea of awkward.”
Kari’s heart thudded and her stomach did a funny little ripple around her lunch. She didn’t know how to do this anymore. It was like being a teenager again, figuring out which actions registered as flirting and generated interest and which ones fell flat. She was still a little in shock to know that Rob was attracted to her. And it was nice to know that he wasn’t one of those who expected her to dominate him, mistaking her height for the person she actually was.
Rob let his hand fall away from her back as they walked to his car. Getting in, Kari glanced at them where they wrapped around the steering wheel. They looked strong. Capable. His right hand had a faded scar across his knuckles.
“What happened there?” she asked, touching the scar with a light fingertip.
He glanced at his hand, a wry expression going across his face. “Oh. That. That is one of the souvenirs from the Keeping Mia Alive file. That child seemed determined to either kill or maim herself at every turn there for a while.”
Kari’s eyes widened. “What did she do?”
“That time? Tried to take a header out of a whale watch boat up off the coast of Massachusetts. I’m still not sure how I managed to get that scar, but flailing and grabbing at a six-year-old can cause some damage.”
Kari’s eyes widened. “I guess so.”
“I’m also sure it took a few years off my life, but those scars are mostly invisible.” He shot her a sideways glance and a wink at that, but Kari still felt the impact of his words. He had a special relationship with his daughter. And Kari still felt wary about Mia. Rob claimed that the young woman “didn’t dislike” Kari. That wasn’t the same as liking Kari or of approving if she and Rob decided to act on their attraction. Not the same thing at all.
“How’s Mia’s job search going?”
“I think it’s still stalled out. She does get freelance gigs from time to time from writers she knows through the internet, but it’s not enough to keep her afloat full time.”
“What is she doing in the meantime?”
“Waiting tables.” Rob made a face. “She tells me the money’s good, but you hear all these stories about how horrible the restaurant business is for women and, well, I worry about her.”
“I hate to break it to you, but just about all businesses are horrible for women,” Kari said. But her heart had squeezed a little when he admitted that he worried. Even if Mia didn’t like her, Kari felt warmly protective of his bond with his daughter. Which meant if Kari was threatening to it at all, she would have to back off entirely.
Rob pulled up in front of his house and turned off the engine. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel, but he didn’t otherwise move. Kari steeled herself. This was it. He was reminded of Mia and Mia didn’t like her and they were going to have to move back into “just friendly” territory because Mia had to come first. She told herself she was okay with that.
She didn’t believe herself at all.
He took in a breath and let it out in an explosive exhale. “I’m trying to figure out how to tell you I want to keep spending time with you without it seeming overwhelming or intrusive,” he said.
“You are?” Kari blinked.
“I am. And clever guy that I am I realized that by telling you I could tell you. Words are funny things. Useful in all sorts of contexts.”
Kari laughed, a short, choked sort of sound. “We could keep working on your pile of paperwork.”
Rob shook his head. “No. No more organization. No more home improvement, at least for today. What would you like to do that’s just fun?”
Fun. Her life recently had revolved around moving and unpacking and then flat-out panicking about the weighty responsibility of owning the house. When had she last done something that was just purely fun?
The words came out of her before she could even think. “It’s been an age since I’ve just sketched.”
“Sketched. As in drawing?”
She nodded. “That’s not exactly a fun group activity, though.”
“Doesn’t matter. I have an idea. Go get your sketching stuff and meet me back here in ten minutes.”