Jackson was in such a downer mood that he ignored Tiffany’s question. Instead, he hastened his pace, leaving the baffled woman behind.
Something finally clicked in Tiffany’s mind, prompting her to quicken her steps and catch up. “You’re referring to what I said at the dinner table, aren’t you?” she called out. “The answer is no. I didn’t say it because I didn’t want dinner to be awkward. I said it because I meant it.”
Jackson halted, his steps falling into place as a gust zipped past him and billowed his hair, disrupting both of their hearts.
He did not dare to look back, as though he was unsure of the statement’s veracity. “What did you say?”
“I said, I didn’t say anything because I was afraid of some awkwardness around the table. I said what I said because I meant it. You and your cooking are alike. They’re both delicious and exactly my type.”
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