the day, she was safe. Because thinking about more than that—wanting more than that—left her raw and exposed. “Forget it.” She swirled her paper towels through the wet mess a little faster.
For several moments, he didn’t move or say anything, and Jenny could feel his gaze on her. She didn’t draw an easy breath until he set the half-empty milk carton on the counter. But instead of leaving, as she’d expected, he picked up the rest of the groceries. Setting them on the counter, he tore off a hunk of paper towels and crouched down next to her.
“I didn’t hear you leave.”
They were so close she could feel the heat from his sun-warmed skin, could count his thick, spiky lashes. “Leave?”
“To grocery shop.”
His hand kept brushing against hers, almost as if on purpose. She told herself the fall had made her delusional, made her read into something that wasn’t there. But that didn’t stop the warmth from spreading across her hand, up her arm, down her spine, each time their skin touched. “Oh. That. I didn’t. I mean, my sister brought them.”
“Your sister brought you food?” He sounded surprised, as if the thought of a family member bringing food to another was a foreign concept.
“For my nephew.” And that’s when she realized Jared didn’t know about Cody.
Glad for any excuse to put some distance between them, she stood. “Cody,” she called out as she tossed the soggy paper towels in the garbage under the sink and rinsed her hands.
“Cody,” she said again, louder, remembering his earphones.
He rolled off the couch with as much energy as a slug. “What?”
“There’s someone I would like you to meet.”
He shuffled into the kitchen. When he caught sight of Jared, his eyes widened, and for a brief moment his cloak of teenage disdain slipped away. Surprised curiosity took its place.
Jared looked just as startled. He stared at her nephew like he’d never seen a kid before.
Jenny made the introductions. “Jared, this is Cody. Cody, Jared.”
Jared stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Cody stared at Jared’s outstretched arm. “Uh . . . um. Yeah. Whatever.” He put his small hand into Jared’s much larger one, and his thin arm wobbled as Jared pumped.
“Cody is my sister Anna’s son. Anna was recently promoted, and her hours at work have increased. With her husband out of town, she needed someone . . . me . . . to watch Cody. He might be back next weekend, too.” She clamped her mouth shut. She was rambling, just like she did every time she got nervous. But that’s what Jared did to her—made her nervous. And he made her remember.
“I didn’t know you had a nephew.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” But looking at him, remembering the flash of uncertainty that had come into his eyes when he’d first seen her nephew, had her thinking the reverse. There was a lot about him that she didn’t know.
Jared faced Cody. “Must be fun to stay with an aunt who lives on a lake.”
“My mom doesn’t like me to be near water unless there’s a lifeguard.”
“Maybe Jenny could talk to your mom, get her to change her mind.”
Cody shoved his hands deep down into the front pockets of his baggy cargo shorts. “Mom never changes her mind.” He hunched his shoulders. “Aunt Jenny doesn’t even have cable.”
“That sucks,” Jared agreed.
Cody scuffed his sneakered toe against the wooden floor. “Totally. Who doesn’t have cable?”
“Have either of you ever heard of a book? Or a game of cards?”
They ignored her.
“We have over two hundred channels at our house.”
“Sports package?”
“Yep.”
“You and your dad must have a lot of fun watching the games.”
Cody’s sneaker halted, and he gave Jared a sideways glance. “My dad’s never around.”
Jared was silent for several moments. “Tough break,” was all he finally said.
“Cody’s father is a surgeon,” Jenny explained, filling the sudden silence. “For the next few months, he’s volunteering in the Doctors Without Borders program. Where is he now, Cody? Sri Lanka?”
“Who cares.”
The contemptuous comment hung in the air like a stale odor.
“And Aunt Jenny doesn’t have a dog either.”
Cody made the comment with such appalling disbelief, Jenny wasn’t sure which ranked higher on the World’s Worst Aunt List—the cable or the dog.
“My mom says we can’t have a dog ’cuz we live in the city, and they poop. But Aunt Jenny doesn’t live in the city.”
“No,” Jared agreed. “She doesn’t.”
Jenny shot him a thanks a lot look. His you’re welcome was anything but.