“It’ll be warm in a few minutes,” he answered, his hands aching to touch her. “And then I’ll take you back.”
I’ll take you back, and I’ll keep working, he thought. I’ll earn trust from you. I have to.
8
Rachel looked up as Jonas entered the suite, the afternoon chill still clinging to his jacket as he drew near.
“The print shop is getting tired of me,” he joked, putting the bag down on the couch.
Scott was sleeping in the bedroom, his daily nap a good opportunity for her to work on the scrapbook. “Hopefully, they won’t have to deal with you too many more times. I’m leaving room at the back of the album for the rest of the photos, and we can be smarter about choosing them before they get printed for the next round.”
Jonas had already been by three times this morning for more photos they’d decided to add to the book. The Elk Lodge had a printer, of course, but the photo paper hadn’t been archival quality. Once Rachel had pointed that out, Jonas had volunteered to go into town. He wasn’t going to give his grandmother anything less than the best.
“What do you think?” She held up the spread she’d been working on. It was a good thing Rachel had been into scrapbooking since about high school—it made the layouts easier. The plan was to provide them with a printed book after the holidays—two versions, one handmade and one bound. The shipping times on the coffee table photo books were too long to have it done by New Year’s. Part of her was glad for the chance to have one final interaction with Jonas and his family after all this was done.
But right now, she didn’t want to think about this project ending.
Jonas kicked off his boots and moved to stand beside her at the desk where she was working. His hand came down on her shoulder, gentle and strong, and it took everything she had not to lean into it and lean into him. It must be the holidays getting to her head. Everyone wanted closeness and warmth this time of year, so it was only natural. It had nothing to do with how ridiculously attractive he was, or the hard fall of his muscles beneath a gray sweater that brought out his blue eyes.
“It looks great,” he commented, after a long look at the pages. “She’s going to love it.”
It seemed like Jonas wasn’t saying everything he wanted to say. He went over to the sofa and sank down into it, and Rachel swiveled to face him. “What’s on your mind?”
“There’s been a change of plans for the photos tonight,” he said lightly, but the way he watched her left her thinking it wasn’t such an easy decision. “I thought we’d have the portraits taken at dinner instead of in the lounge.”
“At dinner?” Her nerves fired up. Rachel had taken many pictures at formal meals before. So why the prickling sensation at the back of her neck? “I’m happy to take the photos wherever you want.”
Jonas pushed a hand through his hair. “I’d actually like you to come to dinner with the family.”
Oh. “How will I take photos if I’m eating?” This wasn’t at all what she expected.
“We can take them beforehand, or after. Probably before, so everyone doesn’t feel overfull while we’re arranging ourselves for portraits.” A smile flashed across his face, so intensely beautiful that Rachel’s knees went weak even though she was sitting. She had to get a grip. Her ex-fiancé’s treatment of her was a constant reminder that rich men like Jonas weren’t to be trusted. People weren’t to be trusted.
“Scott might have a tough time sitting through dinner,” she pointed out. “And I thought you didn’t want them to see much of him?”
“I thought he could stay with Lisa. There’s no need to make a big announcement about Scott or us just yet. Don’t you think?”
Rachel swallowed hard, emotion coming to grip her throat. But which emotion? Part of her was reassured—there wouldn’t be any awkward discussions while she was working. And part of her was disappointed. The way things had gone last night had been good. Easy. She’d been comfortable at Jonas’s table and in his house. After she’d put Scott in his crib and crawled into bed, she’d been filled with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“We could do that,” she agreed.
“You don’t seem convinced.” Jonas’s eyes swept over hers. “If this plan doesn’t work for you, then tell me—I’ll change it.”
That made her breath catch. Jonas was a client, but obviously, he was more than that—and obviously, it was complicated. Way more complicated. “There’s nothing you need to change,” she insisted. “Whatever works best for your family is what we’ll do.”
“You’re my family, in a way.”
Rachel’s heart stopped, then stuttered to a start again. Of all the things she’d expected when she signed on for a rush holiday job like this, an intense conversation of this nature hadn’t been one of them.
Jonas looked away. “Maybe that was going too far. What I meant is that I want what’s comfortable for you, too. And Scott. We’re still working on this project together—and it won’t be done for a few days, right?” He was trying to back out of the unexpected admission.
“That’s correct. We still haven’t taken all the photos. This is supposed to go through New Year’s. You wanted those too if I remember correctly.”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “I want all of them.”
“Okay,” she said, trying to regain some equilibrium. It was as if he were saying one thing and thinking another. “Okay. Photos at dinner tonight. More photos tomorrow, and I’ll keep working on the book until New Year’s.” Those words were tougher than others. “You’ll have the whole holiday season captured and in the book by the time I leave.”
“Perfect,” Jonas said.
“Perfect,” she echoed.
“Dadadada,” Scott called out from the bedroom, letting the grown-ups know he was awake.
“Oh,” Jonas started upright, joy bright in his eyes. “I know he’s not calling me, but it sure sounds like it.”
“Maybe he is,” she said, smiling. “Go and get him.” She waved Jonas off and turned back to the scrapbook, her heart beating fast. If she wanted Jonas to make some announcement about Scott, would he do it? That was what it sounded like. But the last thing she wanted was to put fractures in the middle of what could be their last family holiday together.
She closed her eyes against the sunlight streaming through the windows, and took another deep breath, then another. Nothing had to be decided right now. What had to get done was the scrapbook. The first half needed to be in presentable shape for dinner tonight.
“Mama,” Scott said when they came into the room.
Rachel opened her eyes. Jonas stood there, cradling his son in his arms. Scott had his fists in Jonas’s shirt and was playing with his collar, looking as relaxed as she’d ever seen him.
Comfortable. Could their lives really go on without him after all was said and done? Rachel wasn’t so sure.
“Mama,” he said again, and father and son grinned at her, looking so much alike that it took her breath away.