“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. You’re talking to the voice of experience here.” His chin jerked up in acknowledgment but he didn’t say anything. She took that as a hint to drop the subject. “Okay, so family is a no-go. What do you do for fun?”
His lips pressed together. He sighed, then raised his palms to the ceiling, and looked stumped.
Huh?
Did he not have any hobbies? Play any sports? Collect stamps, for God’s sake?
Her heart weighed heavily in her chest, brimming with sadness for a man who was all alone in the world and didn’t have time for fun. Her fingers tightened on his arm. She’d have to help him figure out what he enjoyed. Before he left Sanctuary, he’d have found a source of joy. She’d make sure of it. She may not be a miracle worker, but she could manage that much.
“What about you?” he asked.
She leaned back onto the sofa, confused. “What about me?”
“Do you have much family? Do you see them often?”
She wondered whether this was his way of angling for more information he could use in his quest to convince her to sell her home, or if he genuinely wanted to know. Whichever option was true, he could easily find out her back story with an internet search, or by asking around, so there was no point being evasive.
“Mum and Dad are still alive. So are my grandparents. I’m an only child.” She took a breath to fortify herself. “And a widow.”
“Yes, I’d heard that.” He reached across and touched her hand. “You still wear your wedding ring.”
She glanced at the simple pounamu band with a gold inlay. “I still love him.”
“I’m sorry.” For some people, “sorry” was a throwaway word, but he seemed to truly mean it. “What was he like?”
Kat shook her head. How had the conversation taken this turn? She supposed she could only push him so far before he pushed back. A bittersweet smile twisted her lips. “Teddy was… vibrant. Larger than life, you know. But he was kind and supportive, too.” She swallowed against the rising tide of emotion. “We met at a race and shared a passion for rally. Together, we were magic on the track. He died three years ago.” She swallowed again, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “Feels like yesterday.”
“Strange how life continues even when you think it shouldn’t.” He sounded like he was the one speaking from experience now. His cobalt gaze was distant. He was somewhere else. They sat together in silence for a long moment, then he said, “Can I take up an hour of your time tomorrow?”
It seemed they wouldn’t be sharing any more sad stories. “That should be fine.”
“Thank you.”
She lifted her mug and realized it was empty. “Guess that means it’s time for bed.”
“For me, too.” They stood and walked down the hall. “Which room is yours?”
“Up the end on the left,” she told him. “My suite is a little larger than the others.”
“As it should be. It’s your home. I’ll walk you to your door.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” They’d literally walk past his room on the way to hers.
“Let me.”
Something in the way he said it gave her pause, and she stepped sideways so they could fit two abreast in the corridor. When they came to her door, she turned to him and discovered she was strangely breathless. It felt like they were teenagers and he was walking her to her parents’ doorstep after a first date. They were awkward with each other, not quite sure how to act. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and studied the carpet.
“Kat.”
She looked up and met his laser-beam eyes. Her stomach flipped over and her skin tingled everywhere.
“Sweet dreams.”
She watched his lips move and her innards clenched. How she wished they were moving over hers.
“Goodnight!” she squawked, her voice breaking. Then she twisted the handle, slipped inside and shut the door.
That had been a close call.