Page 46 of The Midwife's Christmas Miracle (Lakeside Mountain Rescue 5)
âAre you joking?â He picked up his fork with a grin. âMy mother doesnât let anyone into her kitchen. My sister took pity on me after spending a weekend. Or, I suppose, if Iâm honest, she took pity on herself. She was fed up with eating my idea of food. How did you learn? Did your mother teach you to cook?â
Her hand froze on the fork. It was a perfectly reasonable question. Hadnât she just asked him exactly the same one? âNo.â She couldnât keep the stiffness out of her tone. âNo, she didnât. I taught myself.â
His gaze lingered on her face for a moment and then he turned his attention back to his plate. âYouâve always said that you donât have any family. What happened?â
She put her fork down, her appetite suddenly gone. âI suppose I do have family.â She almost choked on the word and wondered why she didnât just lie. âItâs just that weâre not in touch any more.â
âAnd you donât want to talk about it.â His tone was gentle, his blue eyes suddenly intent as he studied the tension in her face. âAll right, weâll talk about something else. Are you sleeping better now?â
She gave a faint smile. âHard not to in that amazing bed.â
âAnother one of my sisterâs purchases. She always said that since she was my most frequent guest, she was going to buy herself a comfortable bed to sleep in.â
âYou mentioned a niece and nephews, so sheâs obviously married.â
âOh, yes. To an architect. They worked together on a project, thatâs how they met.â Jake leaned forward and helped himself to more food. âAnd now I have two cheeky nephews and a baby niece.â
Envy sliced through her and she gave a puzzled frown. Why envy? She never envied families. She knew that they were rarely what they seemed. âDo they live far away?â
âFar enough.â He leaned forward, picked up her fork and handed it to her. âEat, or Iâll have to force-feed you.â
âIâm not that hungry.â
âEat.â
Feeling thoroughly unsettled and not really understanding why, Miranda speared a thin strip of chicken and nibbled it. âWhy do you say far enough? Youâre obviously close to her.â
âWeâre twins,â Jake confessed. âSo, yes, weâre close. A bit too close sometimes. Sheâs inclined to meddle in my life.â
âLike decorating your house?â
âThat sort of meddling I can live with.â He picked up his glass. âWhat I donât like is her interference in my love life. Sheâs always inviting me to dinner and introducing me to yet another of her recently divorced, unattached friends.â
Miranda couldnât help smiling. âItâs pretty hard to meet people. That sounds as good a way as any.â
âThatâs because you donât know my sister.â Jake suppressed a yawn and pushed his chair away from the table. âLetâs just say that her idea of my ideal woman and my idea of my ideal woman donât exactly coincide.â
âWhatâs your ideal woman?â The moment she asked the question she wished she hadnât. His blue eyes lifted to hers and didnât shift.
âIâm looking at her.â
She gave a soft gasp and looked away. âJakeâ¦â
âI know what youâre going to say next so Iâll save you the breath and that way you can concentrate on clearing the food on your plate. Youâre going to say that Iâve only known you a short time, youâre going to remind me that youâre pregnant, just in case Iâd forgotten, and then youâre going to say that youâre not interested in men because relationships always go wrong.â
It was so close to what she would have said that she gaped at him. âAre you a mind-reader?â
âNo, but I think I probably understand women better than most men.â He put his glass down on the table and leaned forward, his eyes still on her face. âI have a twin sister and on top of that I spend every day talking to women at a time when theyâre at their most emotionally vulnerable. I have a pretty good idea what all your arguments will be, although I donât understand all your reasons because you donât trust me enough to tell me about your family. Iâm hoping that, in time, that will change.â
; She stared at him, stunned by what he was saying. âIâve told you about Peter.â
âYes. But thereâs more and thatâs fine.â His tone was conversational, as if they were discussing nothing more serious than the weather. âIâm willing to wait until youâre ready to tell me.â
She was his ideal woman?
âJakeââ