Read Online Harvesting the Heart by Jodi Picoult - Free Book Online

not really hungry,” Paige said. Her eyes roamed the walls of the apartment, the dark shadows of the hallway, and Nicholas began berating himself for scaring the hell out of her. She was only eighteen. No wonder she was shying away. Sure, he wanted to be near her; maybe he could even admit that he was falling for her; but bringing up marriage? He didn’t know where that idea had come from. Christ, that was like using a sledgehammer to kill a fly.
    But he still didn’t want to take back the offer.
    Paige was looking down at her shoes. “This is weird,” she said. “This just feels so weird.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I mean, I didn’t have to worry about this before. This feeling. I hadn’t planned this. You know, when I was just sort of hanging around with you, it wasn‘t—it wasn’t—” She looked up, groping for the right words.
    â€œSo momentous?” Nicholas filled in.
    â€œYes.” Paige’s face broke into a smile, and she exhaled in one long breath. “You always know what to say,” she said shyly. “That’s one of the reasons I like you.”
    Nicholas sat beside her on the couch. He stretched his arm around her. “You like me,” he said. “That’s a start.”
    Paige looked up at him as if she was going to say something, then shook her head.
    â€œHey,” Nicholas said, tipping up her chin. “Nothing’s different. Forget I said anything. I’m still the same guy you told off in the middle of Route 2 a day ago. I’m still the one you can beat the pants off when you play poker.”
    â€œYou just happened to mention getting married.”
    Nicholas grinned at her. “I did, didn’t I?” He tried to sound flip, unconcerned. “That’s the way I end a third date.”
    Paige leaned her head against his arm. “We haven’t even had three real dates,” she said. “I can’t stop thinking about you—”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œâ€”but I don’t even know your middle name.”
    â€œJamison.” Nicholas laughed. “My mother’s maiden name. Now, what else is standing in your way?”
    Paige turned up her head to look at him. “And what’s my middle name?” she challenged, trying to make her point.
    â€œMarie.” Nicholas took a stab in the dark, trying to buy time to figure out his next counterargument. Then he realized he’d got it right.
    Paige was staring at him, her mouth dropped open. “My father used to tell me I’d know when someone was the perfect match for me,” she murmured. “He said God worked it so that you’d always be in the right place at the right time.” Nicholas waited for her to elaborate, but she wrinkled her forehead and stared at the carpet. Then she turned to him. “Why did you ask me?” she said.
    There were a million questions wrapped into that one, and Nicholas didn’t know how to answer them all. He was still reeling from the fact that, unbidden, her middle name had just materialized in his thoughts. So he said the one thing that popped into his mind. “Because you didn’t ask me,” he said.
    Paige looked up at him. “I really do like you,” she said.
    He leaned his head back against the couch, determined to have an ordinary conversation, the kind people who’ve been together forever have all the time. He brought up the weather, and the local sports teams, and then Paige began to gossip about the waitresses at Mercy. Nicholas was soothed by the sound of her voice. He kept asking her questions just to keep her talking. She told him in detail about the angles of her father’s face; she told him that she’d once tried to read the dictionary from cover to cover because a classmate told her it would make her smarter, but she’d only got to N. She described wading into Lake Michigan at the end of May, so