A door closed somewhere nearby, startling me out of the moment. I opened my eyes, not realizing I’d closed them in the first place, and Jack watched me as he eased back.
I clutched at him. “Come inside?” I asked.
“Are you sure?” His hand stroked my hair near my forehead, then lowered to his side. “You looked tired on the drive back.”
I’d drifted off, actually. Even now, there was a heaviness that the kiss hadn’t completely obliterated. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“Then I’ll come in,” he said.
I fumbled for the keys, unlocking the door. Nerves, the kind that weren’t usually there with Jack, made my hands tremble as I hung up my purse. Did I lead him to the bedroom? The way I’d kissed him, and the perfect date he’d planned, made me feel like I should.
I’d enjoyed kissing him, but my mind spun as I avoided looking at him. Why was this so confusing? We’d already had sex, and it had been good. More than good. Amazing. I’d enjoy doing it again.
And I should do it, shouldn’t I? We were dating, and he was great tonight, and I liked him. I should have sex with him.
My eyes burned as the word ‘should’ continued to beat inside my head.
“Maybe some coffee?” I mumbled, but I couldn’t seem to step toward the kitchen.
Jack’s hands found my shoulders, rubbing them. “It’s okay to be tired, Hailey. You don’t have to wake yourself up. I can go.”
“I don’t want you to go.” That was the confusing part. I wanted him there.
His hands continued their gentle strokes. “Why don’t you go change into something to sleep in, and then we can cuddle on the couch and listen to a record?”
“Would that be okay?” I asked, turning so I could look at him.
“Of course it’s okay. It’s what I want, too. Just to be with you.” He kissed my forehead. “We’re more than sex, Hailey. Holding you is one of my favorite things, and I haven’t gottenenough of it tonight, though the jazz festival was a good start.” He smiled at me.
“I have the records you picked out for me in the front of the first case,” I said, moving away from him. My nerves settled as I changed into pajamas in the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and washed my face, then returned to the living room.
Jack had taken off his shoes before sprawling on the couch, and a song I recognized played softly in the background. I looked over at the record player, surprised by his choice.
“This was one Mrs. Miller loved.” It was by one of the heartthrobs Mr. Miller had teased her about.
“I figured. I want to listen to all of them over time, since they mean so much to you.” He held out a hand toward me.
I crossed to take it, not resisting the pull to curl up with him, his warmth drawing out the last of my tension.
The music filled the room, not too loud, a mellow sound in the background that let my eyes drift shut like they had in his truck. His hand rubbed along my back in soft, soothing motions that made it too difficult to overthink the perfect ending to our date.
Chapter 29
A Saturday Together
Iwoke up facing Jack in bed. The bed that I’d started to see as too big, too bulky, too much, after hearing those complaints so often, looked just right with him in it.
I’d led him to the bedroom last night when we’d both begun to drift off on the couch. Sleeping on the couch when I had a perfectly comfortable large bed seemed silly. Jack had stripped down to his boxers before climbing in with me. I’d scooted closer to him, and his arms settled around me as our heads rested close together on separate pillows. Closing my eyes to sleep had been a simple thing.
Waking with him there felt just as simple. His breathing was slow and even, his eyes still shut. Jack didn’t snore. Sometimes I wanted to pinch myself because everything seemed so easy with him that it didn’t feel real.
His nose wrinkled, making me want to run a finger over it. Then his breathing shifted. His eyelashes appeared thicker resting against his cheeks, especially when they fluttered before opening. Warmth filled his eyes when they settled on me.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.
“Good morning,” I repeated back, my chest squeezing. I closed the distance between us, kissing him. Even with him half-asleep, the way our lips met was intense. There was no hesitancy, more a mutual dance of mouths as if we were mapping the exact shape of each other all over again.
I pushed him to his back, resting my body half over him as I stroked my tongue against his, shallow strokes, barely penetrating his mouth, but they sent heat fluttering inside me as I stared into his eyes.
