“Same, but?—”
Before he can finish, Billy sticks his head into my office, grinning like a fool. “Say hello to Lumber-Jax for me,” he booms. “Tell him he was right. Those cinnamon rolls were to die for.”
He walks off laughing, leaving me blinking. “What the heck was that about?”
“I’ll explain later,” Jaxon says, his voice tightening just enough for me to notice again. “You better get going.”
There’s something strained there, something that makes my stomach dip. A flicker of worry rises, the kind that whispers he might be rethinking whatever this thing is between us.
“Why don’t I pick you up instead of you driving?” he adds quickly. “No sense taking two cars.” There’s finally a teasing hint to his voice when he says, “We’ve got to think of the environment, you know.”
“Wow,” I tease, the tension easing again. “Didn’t realize you were so environmentally conscious.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know.”
“True. But I’m learning.”
“I’m learning too,” he says, voice dropping into that low, familiar tone that reminds me of how he taught me last night—with his hands, his mouth, his cock.
I take a quick breath, trying not to sound as flustered as I suddenly feel. “Then you’d have to drive me all the way home, and that’s in the opposite direction of your place.”
“Or…” His pause is deliberate. “You could stay at my place. Look at all the conserving we’d be doing.”
Heat curls low in my belly. “If you’re sure it won’t interfere with your sleep,” I murmur.
“I’m sure it will,” he says with a husky laugh, and for a split second, I worry that whatever this is between us could somehow interfere with his career. The kind of worry that creeps in when feelings start to feel like more than just fun. “I’ll get lots of sleep on the road,” he assures me.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” I reply, keeping my voice steady even as my pulse picks up.
“Pack some clothes,” he adds, a sly note in his tone. “So you don’t have to rush off before I can give you a proper breakfast.”
The words hang in the air, and I feel that little thrill again, the kind that curls warm and dangerous in my stomach. “Proper breakfast, huh? Are you forgetting how much I love your moist muffins?” Just like I’d hoped my words pull a guttural growl from his throat.
“Jesus,” he groans. “On that note, I’m hanging up.”
“I’ll text you when I get home.”
After we hang up, I gather my things, careful to avoid running into Billy as I slip out into the night. The air is cool, just enough to wake me up, and I find a small comfort in how the days are staying lighter a little longer. Sometimes it’s the little things, or the…big things. That thought pulls a laugh from me.
Oh my god, what is happening to me?
I glance around to see if anyone is staring at the crazy lady laughing out loud as she walks to her car by herself. Only a few people, which makes me laugh harder. Honestly, the day might have been long and grueling but deep inside, as I think about Jaxon, and visiting friends, and being a little more domestic, well, it fills me up in a way I’m not used to. I hurry to my car and pull into traffic.
Once home, I take a quick shower, letting the hot water wash off the day. When I step out, I pull on another pair of new panties and matching bra I’d bought just for moments like this.
My mind wanders, half laughing at itself. Will he tear them from my hips and keep them as a souvenir? Or am I being completely presumptuous, hoping for things that I want to happen? He didn’t say anything about sex. The conversation was strictly about not taking two vehicles, right? But yeah, I’m not naïve enough to think tonight isn’t going to lead to more.
I pull on a soft blue sweater and jeans, something comfortable but still, well, date-night adjacent, and toss a few things into an overnight bag. Toothbrush, hairbrush, moisturizer. The toothbrush makes me pause. There’s something deliciously naughty about it. Like I’m sneaking around, doing something scandalous, and the thought sends a thrill through me.
By the time I swipe on mascara and a hint of lipstick, my nerves are dancing. The doorbell rings, and my stomach swoops like a rollercoaster cresting the top. God, I’m acting like a teenager on prom night. Not that I’d ever had such a prom night. I grab my lipstick again just to buy a second, and swipe it across my lips before I hurry to the door and open it.
Jaxon stands there, looking unfairly good, jeans hugging his hips, a dark sweater stretched across his shoulders, hair slightly mussed like he just ran his hands through it before knocking. My heart does this ridiculous little somersault.
Damn, girl. Be careful.
“You look beautiful,” he says, voice low and certain. There’s no teasing in it, no performance. Just honesty. And before I can say thank you, before I can even think, he steps in, wraps me up, and kisses me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His body is big and warm and solid, and I breathe him in—cool night air, fresh soap, a hint of something earthy that’s just him.
“You clean up good, too,” I murmur against his mouth, smiling. Truth is, I like him in all versions—hoodie and sweatpants, or looking like he just stepped out of a men’s fashion ad.