A Notion of Love by Abbie Williams Page B

closest to me.
    â€œAt Christmas,” he said, though there was no trace of self-pity in his tone. “Liz misses her a lot more, especially with the triplets. But at least Dad is here. And he’s a great grandpa.”
    â€œI love him so much,” I said sincerely. “He’s more like a dad to me than anyone I’ve ever known. Thanks for sharing him with Jo and me, truly.”
    Justin shifted a little, his eyes still over the water, but his gaze came to rest on me as he said, “Dad loves you too. You know it, Jillian.”
    For a moment our gazes clung and I was overwhelmed with pure, simple want. I wanted him to pull me close, I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to breathe against his neck. He looked at me hard for a moment, deeply, before drawing in a breath and tilting his gaze back out over the lake. I was crushed with disappointment, but said, to keep him here with me a little longer, “Thanks.”
    â€œIt’s true,” he said, but I could hear the undertone in his voice, as though he was struggling a little to keep it casual. The knowledge of that made me swell with hope.
    â€œSo…” he said after a moment of silence.
    And at the same time as he spoke, I asked, “Doesn’t that just make the whole evening worth it?”
    I pointed to a beam of sunset light that had suddenly broken free of the indigo clouds grouped low on the horizon to strike the tops of the budding trees on the far side with a golden ribbon. It was the kind of thing that made my throat ache a little, no matter how many incredible sunsets I’d watched from this exact spot.
    â€œYes,” he said, soft and slightly hoarse. But for that moment he was looking at me.

Chapter Eight
    May, 2003
    Two weeks passed and I didn’t get another moment alone with Justin. But I kept my disappointment hidden away, concentrating on the fact that in just over a week now, Joelle would be home and then I could start testing my plan to keep her here forever; the problem was, Blythe had inadvertently thrown a wrench into the whole deal with his very presence. After working with him nearly every day, I’d grown incredibly fond of him. He was sweet and had a good sense of humor; he treated Clint like a little brother, shooting hoops with him and his friends some evenings after the café was closed and everything cleaned up for another night. He joked around with me, easily; in that way, he was almost like my own little brother, the one I’d never gotten even after begging Mom for an entire winter, until she threatened to sell me to the gypsies.
    He asked me about Joelle a lot. I could tell he was trying to be casual, but then again he didn’t realize my powers of observation, with just a hint of precognition thrown into the mix.
    â€œSo your sister likes Billy Idol?” This after Clint had dug out a wire basket full of old tapes that had belonged to Jo.
    â€œWhen is your sister’s birthday?”
    â€œDo you two talk very often?”
    â€œDoes she like it in Chicago?”
    â€œHow long is she staying in Landon?”
    â€œJoelle’s husband cheated on her?” This he’d at least had the presence of mind to ask me when we were relatively alone, cleaning up the dining room after a busy Thursday dinner rush. Now that May was advancing, business would steadily grow busier. Upon seeing my surprise, he admitted, “Sorry, I asked Gramps about it.”
    â€œYeah, he did. But don’t let on that you know. She’s pretty ripped up,” I told him, keeping my eyes on the table I was wiping down.
    Again I could almost hear his thoughts. He said, “That’s really shitty.”
    â€œYeah, but if you knew Jackie, you’d understand how it happened,” I said. “Everyone saw this coming a long time ago, except Jo.”
    I could tell he was dying for me to elaborate, but I felt like I couldn’t keep going, not with Joelle’s personal