Katrina indicated the living room. “I found an old cookbook on the bookshelf. Perhaps it’s the same recipe she used.”
Andrés sniffed and took another bite.
“It sounds like you objected to Hardeep’s lifestyle more than to him,” Katrina said softly. “He was a good man, and I loved him.”
Jas shifted, impressed, though Katrina’s diplomacy and brains had never been something he’d questioned. She’d disarmed his grandfather and sweetly and firmly stated her defense of her late husband, via a nice cobbler. “He was a good man,” Jas agreed.
Andrés was silent while he finished the rest of his dessert in a few bites. “You will come to dinner at the big house. We will go over now,” Andrés announced.
“That’s not possible. Katrina needs to stay tucked away, for security reasons,” Jas lied, giving her a complete and total out.
Not to mention giving himself an out. Dinner with his grandfather was only moderately bearable. His grandpa spent the entire night lobbing pointed remarks, and he responded in kind.
His grandfather shot him a frown. “Did I raise you to let a woman speak for herself or not? Besides, there will be no threat to her at our house.”
“That’s not the—”
“It’s okay,” Katrina interjected. “Jas hasn’t told anyone much about me, I suppose. He’s excellent at security. Very tight-lipped.”
There was extra emphasis on his job title. He flinched. That kiss. She was putting him in his place, no doubt.
“It’s difficult for me to go to new places. Sometimes I have panic attacks, and I get nervous about having them in unfamiliar locations,” she continued.
Andrés scowled. “There is nothing bad at my house,” he said gruffly.
“It doesn’t have to be something frightening, to trigger it. I’m happy to try to come to your home for dinner, but it’s possible I could have one. If I feel uncomfortable, I’ll leave, and it may be abrupt.”
Jas stared at Katrina. Never had he heard her summarize and speak so frankly about her panic disorder to someone new like this.
Whatever toughness Andrés had previously shown toward Katrina had been dissolved by the cookies and cobbler. He clumsily patted Katrina’s shoulder with a big hand. “I understand. No big deal if you must leave. Please come.”
“Very well.” She shot Jas an unreadable look. “It would be nice to have the company.”
He opened his mouth to disagree, but then thought about it. If they went to dinner . . . they wouldn’t be alone for dinner. They could put off discussing the kiss. He was always in favor of shoving things down so he could avoid dealing with them. “We’ll wash up and meet you at the house,” Jas said.
“No need to dress too fancy, son.”
Jas gave his grandpa a dour look, catching the dig at his city slicker closet. He didn’t dress fancy, for most places, but he did appreciate quality clothes. “I’ve been gardening, Grandpa.”
“I’m sure you’re not used to dirt.”
Son of a . . .
Andrés rose to his feet, gave Doodle a pet, and tipped his chin at Katrina. “Would you like to ride on my horse, over to my house?”
Katrina had completely won his grandpa over, clearly. No one got to ride that horse.
At her hesitation, Jas jumped in to give her another out. He could not imagine her wanting the insecurity of being on top of a moving animal. “I’ll drive her over.”
“I’ll bring the rest of the cobbler,” Katrina offered.
“Do that.” Andrés cleared his throat. “Bring the cookies too.”
Chapter Eighteen
WHEN ANDRÉS HAD said he lived in the big house, Katrina should have been prepared. When the mansion that was about double the size of her own home came into view, she choked, breaking the awkward silence of the car ride. “This is the big house?”
The home was huge and white, with columns in front, like a mini–White House. Or maybe a White House to scale; she’d never been to the actual White House, and this looked presidential.
“Yup.” Jas killed the engine and got out of the car. His answer was curt, which didn’t surprise her. He’d been avoiding her since she’d made the god-awful decision—or nondecision, her brain hadn’t been a part of that—to kiss him.
Which made sense. She’d barely been able to look at him, had welcomed the distraction of his grandfather’s fascinating presence.
Jas came around the vehicle to open her door, and gave her his hand to step out. The first time he’d ever driven her anywhere, she’d tried to sit in the passenger seat, and he’d been mildly horrified. Hardeep had guided her to the back seat. It was a security concern, he’d told her, though she still didn’t understand that rationale.
It hadn’t seemed like a big deal, and she’d gotten into the habit of sitting in the back. Now, though, it seemed weird.
Because you kissed him!
Ugh, she needed to forget that kiss.
She craned her neck back to examine the home. “I don’t think I understood the scale of your grandfather’s operation.”
“He has one of the biggest farms in the area. It’s the largest producer of peaches in the state.”
The pride he took in that was apparent. Katrina considered herself a fairly intuitive person when it came to most non-kissing-related things. She had easily picked up on the tension between Jas and his grandfather. It had been different from and more deep-seated than Bikram’s coolness.
Andrés may have directed his invitation to her, but it was clear he had badly wanted Jas to come to his home, despite his gruffness whenever he’d spoken to his grandson. It was the frustrated affection in the older man’s eyes that had prompted Katrina to impulsively agree to the meal. That, and she wanted to learn more about Jas and his family.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “You feel okay?”
She checked in on herself. “Yes.” She would treat this like she treated any exploratory foray to a new establishment. Actually, Katrina felt more confident coming to this home for dinner than she had walking into the pho place or the café for the first time. Part of that was the confidence she’d built from coming to this town at all. The rest was that it was a limited number of people, and one of those people was Jas. The familiar within the unfamiliar.
If he quits, what will you do?
She’d find someone else trustworthy to accompany her, that wasn’t the issue. He was important to her for reasons unrelated to his job. If he were to quit over the kiss . . .
No, she wouldn’t think about that right now. It would upset her too much, and she needed to focus on this new interesting experience.
Jas climbed the stairs. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
It didn’t sound like Jas thought this would be interesting, but Katrina clung to her optimism. They walked inside and Katrina had to stifle another gasp. Hardeep had been wealthy, but not ostentatious, and he’d liked to frequent urban cities where homes were smaller.
This was wild. The floors were marble shot with gold, the walls were bedecked with gold-edged frames and fancy art, the chandelier was—no surprise—gold and dripping with crystals. Double staircases stretched to the second floor.