she still didn’t understand that rationale.
It hadn’t seemed like a big deal, and she’d gotten into the habit of sitting in the back. Now, though, it seemed weird.
Because you kissed him!
Ugh, she needed to forget that kiss.
She craned her neck back to examine the home. “I don’t think I understood the scale of your grandfather’s operation.”
“He has one of the biggest farms in the area. It’s the largest producer of peaches in the state.”
The pride he took in that was apparent. Katrina considered herself a fairly intuitive person when it came to most non-kissing-related things. She had easily picked up on the tension between Jas and his grandfather. It had been different from and more deep-seated than Bikram’s coolness.
Andrés may have directed his invitation to her, but it was clear he had badly wanted Jas to come to his home, despite his gruffness whenever he’d spoken to his grandson. It was the frustrated affection in the older man’s eyes that had prompted Katrina to impulsively agree to the meal. That, and she wanted to learn more about Jas and his family.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “You feel okay?”
She checked in on herself. “Yes.” She would treat this like she treated any exploratory foray to a new establishment. Actually, Katrina felt more confident coming to this home for dinner than she had walking into the pho place or the café for the first time. Part of that was the confidence she’d built from coming to this town at all. The rest was that it was a limited number of people, and one of those people was Jas. The familiar within the unfamiliar.
If he quits, what will you do?
She’d find someone else trustworthy to accompany her, that wasn’t the issue. He was important to her for reasons unrelated to his job. If he were to quit over the kiss . . .
No, she wouldn’t think about that right now. It would upset her too much, and she needed to focus on this new interesting experience.
Jas climbed the stairs. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
It didn’t sound like Jas thought this would be interesting, but Katrina clung to her optimism. They walked inside and Katrina had to stifle another gasp. Hardeep had been wealthy, but not ostentatious, and he’d liked to frequent urban cities where homes were smaller.
This was wild. The floors were marble shot with gold, the walls were bedecked with gold-edged frames and fancy art, the chandelier was—no surprise—gold and dripping with crystals. Double staircases stretched to the second floor.
“You grew up here?” she asked Jas as they walked into the equally posh living room. What a puzzle he was. He dressed well, but not rich. He was subdued, not over the top. He’d grown up on a farm, but other than his penchant for gardening, he didn’t seem to care much about agriculture or rural life. How had all this come together to produce him?
Jas surveyed the home with no expression. “Until my mom remarried, yes. It’s—”
“My pride and joy,” Andrés boomed, entering the living room. “Jasvinder, Daisy’s in the kitchen and wishes to speak with you.”
“About what?”
“I’m not sure.” Andrés scowled at Jas. “By the way, did you give Bikram the shotgun from the little house? That gun belongs there, not here.”
“What shotgun?” Katrina asked.
“My father’s gun. It was on the mantel,” Andrés explained.
Katrina didn’t recall seeing anything above the fireplace. She wasn’t sure what this was about exactly, but given Jas’s aversion to firearms, she could figure it out. When Jas didn’t respond, she jumped in. “I don’t like guns in the house.” Not a total lie.
Andrés’s face relaxed. “Ah, I understand. Jasvinder, Daisy is waiting.”
Jas gave her a questioning look and she gave him a tiny shake of her head. It was such an automatic exchange it took her a second to realize that it was even done—his checking in on her, her subtly indicating whether she needed him or not.
How could she have potentially jeopardized this?
Later. You will apologize to him later for it. She stuck her hand in her pocket, settling her thumb into the groove of the rock. Yes. She would apologize. It would all work out. He cared about her, and he understood her, and he would understand that she had been overcome by emotion.
Which she had been. He never needed to know that that emotion had been overwhelming feels for him.
“Go on,” Andrés said. “I won’t eat her.”
“Fine.” Jas lifted the bag that contained the cobbler.