“You’re a romantic.”
Jason felt his frown deepen. “I literally just told you I don’t date.”
“And?” She sauntered back toward him. “I haven’t been on an actual date in months. Doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy stories with heroes and movies with happy endings.”
Her admission stirred something within him. But instead of digging deeper into why she hadn’t had a date in so long, Jason shrugged a shoulder, his mouth curling into a cocky grin.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart. But I’m probably the least romantic male you’ll ever meet.”
“I don’t accept that.”
He barked out a laugh, the echoing sound unfamiliar in his typically silent home. “You don’tacceptthat?”
“Nope.” Sophie jutted her chin playfully.
“Do tell.”
“You have a home meant to be admired by others. The living room furniture is positioned around the fireplace in a way that would allow for conversation and entertaining. You have fresh flowers on your dining room table, and your bookshelves are filled with the classics. And while some aren’t exactly what most would consider to be romance novels, many do include elements of romance mixed into to their complex plots.”
Intrigued by the way this amazing woman’s mind worked, Jason couldn’t help but grin. “Go on.”
“Well, everyone knows the black and white movies are the best kind to watch, especially for those who take joy in those final scenes where the leading man kisses the leading woman, and the viewer knows they’re going to end up living happily ever after. And that pool out back?” She turned toward the window. “There are two lounge chairs around the fire pit. Not just one. That suggests you want someone else to occupy it, even if you don’t actually ever extend an invitation for someone to come over.”
He walked over to her, his dress shoes clicking lightly across the tile as he moved. “Are you finished?”
She pretended to think before nodding. “I think so.”
“You have a very astute eye.” He stopped a few inches in front of her. “Now I’m the one who’s impressed.”
“What’s the real reason you don’t date?” she pushed the subject.
Jason wanted to tell her the truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He couldn’t tell her he avoided relationships because being with him had cost the woman he’d loved her life.
It cost me fucking everything.
“I told you, I don’t have time for relationships.”
“Because of your job.”
“That’s right.”
Sophie stared up at him, her eyes saying she didn’t buy it. Not that he should be surprised. The woman was too damn sharp for her own good.
Still, she didn’t push the subject. Instead, she started to ask about a painting on his wall, but a large yawn kept her from it.
“It’s late,” he pointed out the obvious. “You should really get some rest.”
Sophie nodded. “I’m really tired, all of a sudden.”
“It’s the crash. Your body’s way of telling you it’s had enough.”
“Listen to you, sounding like the doctor.” Another yawn struck and she covered her mouth with her hand until it was over.
“Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”
Leading the way, he and Sophie went up his wooden staircase to the second floor. When they reached the only room there, he opened the double-doors and stepped aside, allowing her to enter the room before him.
Her soft gasp reached his ears as she took in the intimate space. “Jason.” She turned to him. “This isyourroom.”