with amazing options to get us more accurate data. All I can say is that I let my ego get in the way. Guess that makes me the caveman that Danae’s occasionally accused me of being.”
Mark winked at her, and if she wasn’t seated next to Franco, she might’ve checked to see if the guy had turned into a robot. He’d never been forthcoming with his feelings. Never voluntarily discussed them.
Then again, she vaguely remembered this version of him. The kindness and intelligence that had initially attracted her to him.
“And, Danae, I’ve been practically throwing a tantrum since you got the promotion over me. Again, it was my bruised ego, and I’m sorry. I’ve been working up the courage to apologize all day, and figured it’d be easiest in the semi-dark.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle, and Danae scooted to the edge of her seat.
“Thank you, Mark. I appreciate that.” Even after dating for nearly a year, she’d felt like she’d only managed to scratch the surface of who he was and what made him tick. Her attempts to dive deeper had been a big part of what broke them apart. He’d thought she wanted to micromanage him, but she’d merely been trying to find a way to get through. Now here he was, offering up an apology she hadn’t asked for or expected.
“That’s really big of you,” Franco said. “I think it’s important we have a lot of different perspectives in order for the new campaign to be as strong as possible, and I’m sure you’ll agree.”
Mark nodded. “I do.”
Franco’s stomach grumbled, and he put a hand over it. “Wow. Evidently I’m hungrier than I realized. Guess we’d better head to the kitchen and try out that fish.”
Josh flipped the fish and salted the other side. He’d melted butter in the pan and browned the garlic. After that was done, he’d drizzled lemon juice over the top and added rosemary, salt, parsley, and black pepper, seasoning it to perfection.
Every few seconds, his gaze drifted to the doorway. Danae still hadn’t come down, and Mark had mumbled something about going to find her and Franco.
Which was fine.
Regardless of whether or not the idea of Mark talking to Danae caused a toxic churn in his gut. He didn’t have any right to be jealous. Although he couldn’t stop replaying their moments from today. Her pitching in on the boat. The bluffs. The lighthouse.
When she’d said she felt something, he’d thought she’d been confessing to a mutual attraction. Or her attraction, anyway, since he couldn’t stop looking at her. Talking to her. Eyeing her hand and twitching with the urge to hold it again.
He’d thought Oh good, a woman who’s gonna shoot straight and avoid playing games.
The joke was on him, because she’d felt a fish nipping at her line. Still, surely the interest went both ways. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be slowly consuming him. Right?
He heard movement near the door and, so he wouldn’t appear as eager as he felt, grabbed a fork. Using the tines, he confirmed that the fish was cooked to flaky, melt-in-your-mouth tenderness.
Perfect.
The chatter grew louder, and then there she was. Standing between Mark and Franco, smiling and laughing the way she had earlier, with him.
Which is allowed, hello. Josh must be tired, because normally he could control his thoughts without so much effort. It had been a long day. He’d also tossed and turned last night, the foreign room around him throwing him off.
Danae split from the guys, moving over to the stove instead of the table where everyone was passing around plates. Vanessa had sliced a loaf of crusty bread and put it in the center of the table, along with a garden salad and a few bottles of dressing.
Danae studied the fish, her forehead wrinkling and smoothing as if she wasn’t sure what to make of their dinner. “It smells better than most fish. I’ll give you that.”
“I figured you were going to go with something smells fishy around here,” Josh joked, and there was the laugh that echoed through him and stirred up joy.
“I wish I’d thought of that. It was my way of saying I’m trying to keep an open mind.”
“Hey, don’t do me any favors. I want the truth.”
Tipping onto her toes, Danae opened a cupboard door and withdrew a white ceramic platter. “Well, hand it over then, and I’ll start passing it around.”
He did as requested, using a spatula to transfer the two large fish from the pan to the platter.