All Said and Undone Read Online Free Page A

corner, big windows, and wraparound deck. She had a feeling no matter where she went—the bedroom, the deck, the kitchen, the back yard—she would be excruciatingly aware of Jack.
    She silently scolded herself for watching him as he moved around, making himself comfortable, not looking nearly affected by her presence. Desperate to turn her attention elsewhere, she escaped to the kitchen.
    He was putting logs in the fireplace, and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from arguing against it. A crackling fire reminded her too much of those cooler nights in the past. However, she dared not give away her thoughts. She could live with it.
    “I’m not selling the boat,” she told him absently as she rummaged around the kitchen to make something to eat.
    There was a pause in the air and then he said, “Good.” He continued grabbing the stacks of wood with his strong hands and placing them in orderly fashion on the grate.
    “I’m not keeping it just because you said so,” she went on, knowing she was baiting him.
    “Why are you keeping it?” He looked over his shoulder.
    She avoided his gaze as she turned on the gas stove. “You were right. It means something to me. Even if it just sits there bobbing in the water all day.”
    She felt his steady gaze upon her as she opened up cans of creamy tomato.
    “You’ve lost weight,” he remarked. “Still eating like a bird?”
    She glared at him as she poured the tomato broth into a small pot. “I haven’t lost any weight since….” Her voice trailed off, and she choked back the rest of the sentence, not wanting to bring up the night he’d moved out. “I don’t eat like a bird . I just don’t swallow the barbarian portions you do.”
    “Look what you’re making for dinner,” he said, rising from his knees. “I bet it’s something that wouldn’t satisfy a mouse.” He came up beside her, resting his hands on the edge of the counter while she stirred the mixture. “Case in point.”
    “It’s soup!”
    “It’s pathetic. Let me help.”
    The hairs on the back of her neck rose at his close proximity. “I—I don’t need your help.”
    “Trust me. I can make it ten times better.”
    “Its fine the way it is. Nice and plain.”
    He shook his head and opened the fridge. Pulling out her vegetables, a cutting board, a knife, and some paper towels, he bumped her out of his way.
    She begrudgingly admitted to herself that adding veggies did sound appealing. They’d been intended for use in a salad, but she didn’t argue, giving her approval with silence.
    After he finished chopping up some green onions, tomatoes, and mushrooms, he dropped them into the pot. “There. Now it has some guts.”
    “Er, thanks.” She stirred them in and turned down the heat. “Would you like some?”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    After allowing it to warm through, she poured the soup into a bowl and took a seat in the corner of the sofa, attempting a nonchalant air as she started to eat. Only able to get through half of her serving, she reached for a book and reread the same page at least four times.
    Jack had occupied himself with starting the fire.
    Say something . She should say something.
    No. He should say something.
    It was so weird being there with him without the romance, the conversation, the laughter, the lovemaking….
    She turned a page with blind eyes, still not reading.
    A part of her wanted to weep, a part of her wanted to scream, another part of her wanted to crawl into his arms and sink into his heat and fall asleep. She glanced at him over the top of her book. He’d taken a seat opposite her and was watching the fire with a pensive gaze, not appearing as if he wanted to shed any tears or scream at all. Though if he did, she would most certainly die of shock.
    Typical Jack. No emotion. No conflict.
    Just like the night she’d suggested a separation. After they’d finished yelling accusations at one another, she’d told him to move out, acting out of hurt. The