Confusion drifted across his face. “Seriously?”
His reaction was familiar. She often felt surprised when someone showed real interest in her work. She smiled at the irony of it. “Seriously. I want to see the buildings. Your designs.”
He hesitated, then reached for his phone and tapped into his pictures. Miranda slid her hand across his abdomen, his skin warm, muscles hard, and tucked it beneath him on the opposite side of his body. With her head on his chest, she watched him scroll through his photos before stopping on a rendering of twin skyscrapers depicted at dusk.
He offered her the phone. “This is my project in Melbourne.”
Shock rendered her speechless for long moments as she studied the stunning buildings. They gave the illusion of curving into the dusky sky, while also appearing to twist slightly. The exteriors slowly changed color from light gray at the base to black at the top. Various windows were lit up, as if some offices were still occupied. Each building seemed to have slivers cut from them where portions didn’t connect, a play on curved and rectangular shapes that worked in complete harmony together. She couldn’t begin to understand this kind of architecture. She could only marvel at the mind that created it.
“Good God, Jack. This is… I don’t have words.”
“Yeah?” he asked. “I’ve gotten a lot of mixed reactions.”
She cut a look at him, frowning. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He gave a shrug, and his gaze returned to the images. “Architecture is art. And like any art, perception is highly subjective. I learned a long time ago you can never please everyone.”
She shook her head and studied the image again, still marveling. “Anyone who would criticize this is nothing but envious.” She tilted her head one way, then the other. “God, I could look at this for hours. Tell me about it.”
“This area,” he pointed to a platform-like base, “is a shopping mall with high-end stores and rooftop restaurants.” He gestured toward the towers. “These are offices. The building is completely leased, and it’s only halfway built.”
“Are there more?” Miranda automatically swiped to the next picture and found more renderings. The sheer beauty of it created a purr in her throat. She shook her head, swiped again and found different angles on the same buildings. “Jesus. It’s incredible, Jack.”
She swiped again and found herself looking at a picture of Jack lying on the floor on his stomach in front of a Lego building along with two little boys. One right beside him, mirroring Jack with an intent gaze on the toy structure, the other, younger boy, lying on Jack’s back, his chin propped on Jack’s shoulder, looking at the building. The sight was so sweet. it made Miranda’s heart squeeze.
“That’s all I have on my phone,” he said. “I have more on my computer if you’re interested.”
“I am.” She couldn’t look away from the warmth of this new photo, a peek into his personal life. “Very.”
“My nephews.” His voice held a note of affection she’d never heard before. When she looked at him, she saw a tenderness in his eyes she’d never seen. “Jacob’s a builder, James a destroyer. If I’m not there to referee while we’re building, those two would explode in the Lego fight of the century. Jen takes a million pictures.”
Her gaze traveled back to the image
, and something completely foreign moved inside her. “I can’t believe how much they look like you.”
“I look like my father. My father looks like my grandfather. I guess we have strong genes.”
Even as the questions formed, she knew she shouldn’t voice them. But they just spilled out of her mouth. “Have you ever been married?”
“No. You?”
She snorted a laugh. “Do you have kids?”
He grinned. “If I had kids, they’d be all over my phone. And I wouldn’t travel like I do now.”
A whisper of disappointment fluttered through her stomach, but she wasn’t sure why. She glanced at him. “You want kids, then?”
“I do.” His head tilted, his gaze scanning her expression. “You don’t?”
“I’m…” She returned her gaze to the photo. What she was going to say, what she always said when someone asked—I’m not made for kids—faded away. There was something about the sight of an adorable boy who looked just like Jack that made her heart stir. “I’ve never thought about it.”
Miranda shook her head and swiped to the next image. Her breath caught in her lungs. It was of Jack with a baby. He was outside, sitting on a porch swing. He had the baby lifted in the air, his head back, smiling up at the boy, who was clearly laughing, overjoyed with Jack’s playfulness.
“Wow.” The word came out as a breath, and the stirring in her heart quickened. It was as if the universe had dug into her deepest, most unrealistic desires and thrown them at her in a photograph. As if to whisper, You could have this. A family of your own. “What an incredible photo.”
“One of my favorites.” That softness was back in his voice. “That’s Joshua. You should come to the house. Meet my family.”
That suggestion cut through her like a hot knife. Before she had to respond, room service knocked on the door. Miranda silently thanked the universe for interrupting a discussion she didn’t want to even begin.