John walked into the dining room and flipped on the light above the pedestal table. “Let me see it.”
Georgeanne didn’t follow. “It’s no big deal.”
“Let me see it,” he repeated.
With a sigh, she gave up and walked into the dining room. She held out her hand and showed him her middle finger.
“That’s not too bad,” he announced.
She leaned closer for a better look, and their foreheads almost touched. “It’s huge.”
A frown lowered his brows. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and left the room, only to return with a pair of tweezers. “Have a seat.”
“I can do it myself.”
“I know you can.” He turned a chair backward and straddled it. “But I can get it out easier because I can use both hands.” He placed his forearms on the top rung and motioned to another chair. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Warily she took a seat and shoved her hand toward him, purposely keeping an arm’s length between them. John closed the short distance by scooting his chair until her knees touched the back of the wooden seat, so close that she had to press her legs together so they wouldn’t brush the insides of his thighs. She leaned back as far as she could, He took her hand in his palm and squeezed the pad of her middle finger.
“Ouch.” She tried to pull free, but he tightened his grasp.
He glanced up at her. “That didn’t hurt, Georgie.”
“Yes, it did!”
He didn’t argue, but he didn’t let go either. He lowered his gaze and poked at her skin with the tweezers.
“Ouch.”
Once again he lifted his gaze and looked at her over their joined hands. “Baby.”
“Jerk.”
He laughed and shook his head. “If you weren’t such a girly girl, this wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Girly girl? What’s a girly girl?”
“Look in the mirror.”
That didn’t tell her much. She tried to pull her hand back again.
“Just relax,” he said as he continued to work at the sliver. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your chair. What do you think I’m going to do, stab you with a pair of tweezers?”
“No.”
“Than relax, it’s almost out.”
Relax? He was so close he took up all the space. There was only John with his callused palm cupping her hand and his dark head bent over the tips of her fingers. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his thighs through his jeans and the thin cotton of her kiwi-colored dress. John had such a strong presence that relaxing with him so close was impossible. She raised her gaze from the side part in his hair and looked across the living room. Ernie and his big blue fish stared back at her. Her memories of John’s grandfather were of a nice older gentleman. She wondered about him now, and she wondered what he thought of Lexie. She decided to ask.
He didn’t look up, just shrugged and said, “I haven’t told my grandfather or my mother yet.”
Georgeanne was surprised. Seven years ago she’d thought John and Ernie were close. “Why?”
“Because both of them have been bothering me to get married again and start a family. When they find out about Lexie, they’ll shoot to Seattle faster than a smoker from the sweet spot. I want time to get to know Lexie first, before I’m blitzed by my family. Besides, we agreed to wait to tell her, remember? And with my mother and Ernie hanging around, staring, it might make Lexie uncomfortable.”
Married again? Georgeanne hadn’t heard anything he’d said after he’d uttered those two words. “You were married?”
“Yeah.”