Page 7 of Forbidden Touch
A chuckle sounds from my throat. “It’s nice, yes.” I say nothing more. I didn’t offer the compliment to talk about my mansion in the hills. Instead, I refocus the conversation back on her. “You’ve done well for yourself.”
Her lips tighten. “As you have.”
My shoulders drop. “Why do you do that?”
She looks at me, her green eyes blinking. “Do what?”
Twisting my mouth, I respond. “Deflect compliments.”
After parting her lips, she pauses and looks at the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”
She’s changed the subject, but it’s fine, and I welcome it.
“Yes.”
She smiles. “I make a good margarita.”
My brain hesitates. “Uh…”
She cracks another smile. “Kidding. You look like a whiskey man to me. Like my brothers.”
Her guess doesn’t surprise me, but I raise my eyebrows, anyway. “How did you know?”
Removing a bottle from a bar cabinet, she pours the drink into two lowball glasses. “Because whiskey men are confident.”
My head tilts to the side. “Hmm. Okay.”
She hands me a glass. “You’re deep and thoughtful.”
“Alright,” I say from the side of my mouth, unsure where this is going. “Thanks.”
She studies me. “You’re observant. You see the beauty in things.”
“Okay, where is this going?” I ask.
“Oh, what’s the matter?” She tosses her hair back with a flick of her feminine wrist. “Can’t you take a compliment?”
My head rocks back and a genuine smile lands on my lips. “You got me.”
“Yes, I got you,” she says in a quiet voice, nodding. “But there’s something about you. Something that stays hidden. A secret.”
My eyes flicker away as my visit with the doctor comes to mind. Downing the whiskey, I let it burn my throat. “You have keen insight.”
She says nothing as she reaches out and holds my hand. Her touch feels good. Warm. Comforting.
As I meet her gaze, I’m ready to share. “I had a doctor’s appointment earlier today. I might have a rare genetic heart condition that can put me into sudden cardiac arrest.”
Her finger touches her parted lips. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Jonathan.”
Sighing, I lean onto a kitchen cabinet. “You’re the only person I’ve told.”
Her breath catches as she shifts to lean against the wall next to me. “I’m touched, but shouldn’t you share this with your family, so they’ll know what’s going on?”
Shrugging, I shake my head. “Nah. That would make me more anxious.”
She nods. “Yeah. Families tend to do that.”
A beat of silence passes between us. “It’s the same thing my uncle died from. Ava’s dad.”