After the weekend of torture, Jonas went to work on Monday with renewed determination to get his grandfather moving on the Park Industries merger. The sooner the ink was dry on that deal, the better. Then Jonas could get over his irritation that his marriage to Viv was what had tipped the scales toward his grandfather’s decision to retire.
Grandfather recognized Jonas’s accomplishments with Kim Electronics. Deep down, he knew that. But it rankled that the conversation about naming Jonas as the next CEO had come about after Grandfather had met Viv.
Didn’t matter. The subject had come up. That was enough. And Jonas intended to make sure the subject didn’t get dropped, because if he was forced to stay married to Viv, he should get something out of it. An Academy Award wouldn’t be out of line after the stellar performance he’d turned in at his parents’ house. How he’d acted like he’d been sleeping all night while lying next to his wife was still a mystery to him and he was the one who’d pulled it off.
Her scent still haunted him at odd moments. Like now. This conference call he’d supposedly been participating in had gotten maybe a quarter of his attention. Which was not a good way to prove he deserved the position of CEO.
But it was a perfect way to indulge in the memory of the sweet way she’d curled up next to him, her even breathing oddly arousing and lulling at the same time. He’d expected it to be weird the next morning, like maybe they wouldn’t look each other in the eye, but Viv had awoken refreshed and beautiful, as if she’d gotten a great night’s sleep. He pretended the same and they settled into an easy camaraderie around his parents that hadn’t raised a single brow.
At least that part was over. Viv’s mom and dad had invited them for dinner on Friday and he was plenty nervous about that experience. It would probably be fine. As long as he didn’t have to act like he couldn’t keep his hands off Viv. Or act like he didn’t want to touch her. Actually, he’d lost track of what he was supposed to be doing. Hence the reason he hated lying. The truth was so much easier.
But when he got home that evening after a long day that had included a two-hour debrief with Legal regarding the merger proposal, Viv was sitting on the couch with two glasses of wine. She smiled at him and he felt entirely incapable of faking anything. Especially if it came down to pretending he didn’t want to be with her.
His answering smile broadened hers and that set off all sorts of fireworks inside that should have been a big fat warning to back off, but he was tired and there was absolutely nothing wrong with having a glass of wine with his friend Viv after work. That was his story and he was sticking to it.
“Are we celebrating something?” he asked as he hung his work bag on the hook near the refrigerator.
“Yes, that I can in fact open a bottle of wine all by myself.” She laughed with that little peal he’d never noticed before he’d married her, but seemed to be a common occurrence lately. Or had she always laughed like that and he’d been too stuck in his own head to notice how warm it was?
“Was that in question?” He took the long-stemmed glass from her outstretched fingers and eased onto the couch next to her. Instantly, that turned into a big mistake as her scent wrapped around him. It slammed through his gut and his arm jerked, nearly spilling the wine.
For God’s sake. This ridiculousness had to stop, especially before Friday or the second family trial by fire would end in a blaze.
“I’m just not talented in the cork-pulling arena,” she answered casually as if she hadn’t noticed his idiocy. “My skills start and end with baking.”
Yes. Baking. They could talk about cupcakes while he got back on track. “Speaking of which, I wasn’t expecting you home. Doesn’t the shop stay open until seven on Mondays?”
She smiled. “You’ve been memorizing my work schedule? That’s sweet. Josie is closing up for me. I wanted to be here when you got home.”
“You did? Why?”
Because I couldn’t stay away, Jonas. You’re so much more interesting to me than cupcakes, Jonas. I want to strip you naked and have my wicked way with you, Jonas.
There came her gorgeous laugh again. He couldn’t hear it enough, especially when he was in the middle of being such a doofus. If she was laughing, that was a good thing. Otherwise, he’d owe her an apology. Not that she could read his thoughts, thank God.
“I wanted to see you. We’re still friends, right?”
Oh, yeah. “Right.”
“Also, I wasn’t kidding when I said my sisters are going to have an eagle eye on our relationship this Friday.” Viv sipped her wine, her gaze on his over the rim. “We’re still a little jumpy around each other. I’m not sure why, but sharing a bed didn’t seem to help.”
Huge mystery there. Maybe because his awareness level had shot up into the stratosphere since he’d woken up with a woman whom he hadn’t touched one single time. Or it could be because he’d been kicking himself over his regret ever since. He shouldn’t regret not touching her. It was the right move.
“No, it didn’t help,” he muttered. “That wasn’t ever going to be the result of sleeping together platonically.”
She nodded sagely. “Yes, I realized that sometime between then and now. Don’t worry. I have a new plan.”
“I wasn’t worried. What is it?”
“We’re trying too hard. We need to dial it back and spend time as friends. We were comfortable around each other then. It can totally be that way again.”
That sounded really great to him. And also like there was a catch he couldn’t quite see. Cautiously he eyed her. “What, like I take you to lunch and we just talk about stuff?”
“Sure.” She shrugged and reached out to lace her fingers through his free hand. “See, we can hold hands and it doesn’t mean anything. I’m just hanging out with my friend Jonas, whom I like. Hey, Jonas, guess what?”
He had to grin. This was not the worst plan he’d ever heard. In fact, it was pretty great. He’d missed their easy camaraderie and the lack of pretension. Never had she made him feel like he should be anything other than himself when they hung out. “Hey, Viv. What?”
“I made reservations at this new restaurant in Cary that sounds fab. It’s Thai.”
“That’s my favorite.” Which she well knew. It was hers, too. He took the first deep breath in what seemed like hours. They were friends. He could dang well act like one and stop nosing around Viv like a hormonal teenager.
“Drink your wine and then we’ll go. My treat.”
“No way. You opened the bottle of wine. The least I can do is spring for dinner.”
“Well, it was a major accomplishment,” she allowed, and clinked her glass to his as he held out the stemware. “I’m thrilled to have it recognized as such.”
And the evening only got better from there. Jonas drove Viv to the restaurant and they chattered all the way about everything and nothing, which he’d have called a major
