Sweet Liar (Candy #2)(35)

With a smile that looked less casual, the doctor switched off the light and straightened to face me.

“It’s not good news, is it?” I asked.

He pressed his lips together just as Jonah came around him to stand beside me. I felt the light pressure of his hand on my back.

“I don’t see any improvement in the injured tissue, Candy.”

I nodded and my throat grew tight, even though this was what I’d expected.

“We can continue to watch these areas since my preference is to delay surgery until summer. With your reduced circulation, I would worry about your fingers healing too slowly and infection setting in if we did anything about them now. But if we wait, you’ll need to come in for regular checks, and continue to use the ointment I gave you to prevent infection. Infection is our main concern. If that happened, we’d have to move up the surgery.”

“I can do that,” I said, glad for the chance to delay surgery. “Since we’re waiting, is there still a chance they could heal? As the weather gets warmer, maybe?”

He hesitated, his gaze bouncing between Jonah and me. Finally, he said, “A very small chance.”

I grinned at this tiny sliver of hope, glancing up at Jonah, who wasn’t smiling. I could see the worry in his eyes. Dr. Fox didn’t expect that small chance to pan out, and Jonah realized that. He thought I was going to be disappointed. But if there was no chance, the doctor wouldn’t have told me there was, and I’d take any chance he offered.

Dr. Fox shook both our hands on the way out, and I made sure to book my next appointment. My relief stayed with me. I was so sure I’d be leaving this office today with a time and date for surgery. This might have only been a delay, but I’d needed that today. I needed hope in whatever form it took.

Jonah was still quiet when we got back into the Jeep, but his silence seemed different, weightier, and I thought I understood why. Guilt flooded me because not only had I pulled a terrible prank, one I was truly regretting, but I hadn’t let him off the hook about the freezer. I held back from doing it as a way to punish him, but he was already punishing himself enough.

“I believe you about the freezer,” I said after clearing my throat. “I know I haven’t told you, but I don’t believe it was you who locked me in there.”

He angled a strained look at me, and pulled back his hand that had reached out to start the Jeep. “I’m not blameless. I got you the job there. I was part of it.”

“But you didn’t do this to me. You wouldn’t. I know that.”

His eyes shifted to mine again, and I thought I saw something lift in them. I waited, wondering if he would say something. Instead, he just kept looking, until finally he reached out and pulled me against him. Of their own volition, my arms came around his neck, and we embraced awkwardly across the center console.

I wasn’t sure why we were hugging, since less than twenty-four hours ago we were furious at each other, but I needed this. I wanted it, and Jonah did too. His strength and warmth surrounded me, sinking inside, melting away the tension. The hug was tight, and had an air of both relief and desperation about it.

After a long moment that felt far too short, he drew back first. Clearing his throat, he rested his hands on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. Shooting a self-conscious look at me, he started the motor and pulled away from the building. It was odd, because this time he was the one closing down just when I was finally opening up a little.

The ride was fast, silent, and uncomfortable because I had no idea what Jonah was thinking. As we neared the house, my phone dinged with a text message. I pulled it from my bag just as Jonah turned into my driveway. It was Drew, letting me know I was invited to dinner this Friday night.

I put my phone away and said nothing to Jonah. Drew was a sore subject I didn’t want to bring up; at least, not now when things felt better between Jonah and me.

“Thanks again for coming with me,” I said, reaching for the door handle once the Jeep came to a stop.

“Candy, wait,” he said, releasing the wheel to turn toward me. “What I said before, about you and Drew, I should never have said it.”

I eyed him warily; it was just the subject I wanted to avoid.

“I’m sorry for how you took it. It was never about you. It was about what Drew might do, and warning you. I never believed you would—”

I lifted a hand to stop him. “I know. You don’t have to say it.”

“But I do.” He looked away, raking his fingers through his hair. “I was out of line, and I’m sorry. So damn sorry. That’s why you dumped the birdseed on my car, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Did it make you feel better?”

“No.” I swallowed, realizing I did feel better, but the birds had nothing to do with it. “But your apology did. Thank you. And I’m sorry about the birdseed. It was an awful thing to do. I’m glad your Jeep is okay.”

He gave me a half smile, making me believe I was forgiven.

I got out of the car, but paused on the walkway and looked over my shoulder. “Thanks for coming today too.” I thought of how he kept his hand on my back as Dr. Fox spoke. “I appreciated it.”

His grin widened enough for me to smile back at him and not feel as if we were ending another day with a wall of tension between us.

As I watched his Jeep disappear down the road, I tried to figure out how I really felt about Jonah because I honestly wasn’t sure anymore. My feelings for him were like water, fluid and changeable, turning warm with a look or a touch, and then going cold again with one wrong word. He made it hard to hate him, and he made it hard to let go and give myself over to liking him. Mostly, he confused me.