The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke. Loree Lough

hand. “I know I wasn’t the best company tonight, and when I get back, you can arrange dinner with the new partner and his wife. Someplace nice. My treat.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “Sound good?”

      She returned the squeeze. “I can’t very well turn down a deal like that, can I?” Grinning, she added, “Not without sounding spoiled, anyway.”

      “Very funny,” he said, winking again.

      It wasn’t in her wheelhouse to crack jokes, and he appreciated her effort to lighten the mood.

      “Did the show send your schedule?”

      The producers from the shopping network had always made sure he knew well in advance what time he’d be on-air. And Whitney was aware of this, too.

      “Yup.”

      “When you get a minute, will you take a screenshot of it, so I’ll know when it’s okay to call? I’d hate to interrupt you while you’re in the middle of describing one of your mom’s crafts.”

      During his trip a few weeks earlier, she’d called and texted a dozen times a day. Called at night, too. And once, his cell phone had buzzed while he was on-air during the Father’s Day specials—loudly enough that the mic picked it up. His own fault. He should have left it in the dressing room.

      “’Course.”

      “You’ll call every day?”

      “Sure.”

      An odd thought popped into his head. She hadn’t been clingy or possessive before meeting Lillie. She’d even started referring to his past as “the Lillie years.” He’d assure her that things had ended between him and Lillie a long time ago...except, he wasn’t sure that was the truth. Or that he wanted it to be the truth.

      “Good. Because I’ll miss you.”

      “Me, too.”

      “I don’t know why, but it always seems you’re gone for weeks, instead of a few days.”

      Always? He’d gone to Florida only two other times since they’d met. But he’d been quiet and standoffish all night. What could it hurt to say something nice?

      “Since you’re like a human World Clock, maybe you can be my wake-up call every morning.”

      “Give me a minute to collect myself,” she said. “I don’t want to appear overeager. What would my fellow feminists say if they heard me gushing like a schoolgirl at the chance to rouse her boyfriend while he’s on a business trip?”

      Boyfriend. Jase didn’t know how he felt about that.

      “Fellow feminists,” he said. “Is that an oxymoron?”

      She laughed. His mother may just have been right when she’d said that Whitney could be good for him...if he’d let her.

      Jase nodded and smiled, smiled and nodded as she talked about the movie’s plot, the weather, the legal brief she needed to finesse for a pretrial hearing in the morning.

      “Are you sure you can’t come in?” she asked, leaning into him.

      “I’m sure. I need to get home, throw a few things in a bag. Besides, you have that brief to work on.”

      Hands on his shoulders, Whitney kissed him, slowly, longingly. He waited for the weak-in-the-knees, heart-pounding reaction his mother had described. When it didn’t happen, Jase blamed himself. Maybe if he put a little more into it...

      Still nothing.

      “Drive safely,” she said when it ended, “and pack some immune boosters. You don’t want to catch a cold, breathing that recirculated air on the plane. Not a good idea to drink coffee or tea, or let the flight attendant put ice in your drink. I read an article that said there are swarms of bacteria in the water system and the ice maker.”

      Jase chuckled quietly. “Swarms, huh?”