Page 39 of Rumours and Romance
“Stay.” When I look back, her eyes are open, and she’s looking right at me. “Please. Just hold me.”
I nod, afraid to say anything. I pull off my T-shirt but leave my sweats on, and slide in beside her on the bed. She turns over and curls up into my side, her head on my shoulder and her hand resting on my chest. I feel her take a deep breath in and out.
“Thank you for coming,” she says quietly, her fingers drawing circles on my chest. “I was so scared.”
My arm tightens around her. “I don’t blame you. And I meant it when I said I’m glad you called. You and Milo are really important to me.”
She lifts her head slightly to look at me, and her scrutiny almost makes me uncomfortable. I worry she can tell that what I just said is only a half truth. But she settles her head back down into the crook of my shoulder.
“Is this okay?”
Mila sounds nervous, and I frown slightly. “What, me staying?” She nods. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
“You’re a really good friend, Jackson.” The longing I can detect in her voice seems to mirror the hollowness of my own. It’s becoming clear that neither one of us is really feeling the just friends part of our agreement.
Several moments pass and I wonder if she has fallen back asleep. My earlier exhaustion disappeared the second I heard her crying on the phone. Dealing with an emergency always causes a rush of adrenaline and I know it will be a while before I can sleep. Besides, the part of me that is a sucker for punishment is reveling in the feel of laying next to her, holding her once more. Even if it doesn’t last past tonight.
But what if it could last longer…
That thought floats around my head for a while before finally, the comfort of Mila in my arms makes me drift off to sleep as well.
Chapter 17
Mila
My alarm is accompanied by a deep groan that definitely does not come from me. Years of being an early riser has me conditioned to snap to full alertness at the first beep, but today there is a solid weight over my side, and a warm body pressed close enough behind me to make a certain situation very apparent. My back naturally arches into a stretch, rubbing against Jackson in a way that could easily lead to something if I didn’t have a bakery to run. And if he actually wanted me that way.
“Fucking hell, it’s early,” he grumbles against my neck. I can tell the second he realizes his hand is cupping my breast, because his whole body freezes. “Sorry. I guess I got a little…close.” A huff of warm air hits my bare shoulder. I twist in his arms to turn and face him, ignoring the fact that I instantly miss the feel of his hand on me.
“It’s okay. You were comforting me.”
His lips tip up into a smile that is pure sin. “Sure. I needed to cup your perfect breast to comfort you.”
“You think my breasts are perfect?” I ask daringly.
Jackson doesn’t answer right away. He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, his fingers trailing across my cheek. “I think you are perfect.”
He leans in and kisses me lightly. I’m struck dumb. I have absolutely no idea how to respond. He’s blurring the lines that he set between us, and I don’t know what to do. Just as I start to psych myself up enough to ask him what he’s thinking, he turns over and climbs out of bed.
“I’m going to check on Milo,” he says over his shoulder as he walks out of the room.
I scramble to get up as well, instantly feeling guilty that my poor dog wasn’t my first thought. I follow him into the kitchen, and Milo gets up from his bed slowly to walk over to us. He’s putting weight on all four legs, but still limping. I bend down and give him some love while Jackson lifts a fabric sling off the table, then hooks it under Milo’s belly.
“This will help him avoid putting too much weight on that leg for a while,” he explains as he slowly leads Milo to the back door. I trail behind, watching the man I’m falling for care for my silly dog with such tenderness it warms my heart. My coffee maker beeps, making me turn back inside. I set out two mugs and head back into my room to quickly get dressed. When I come back into the kitchen, Milo is eating some kibble and Jackson is pouring milk into two mugs of coffee. He’s still only wearing low slung navy blue sweatpants, and I admire the muscular lines of his back openly while he isn’t looking. Jackson Holt is one beautiful man. The second he turns around I move my gaze elsewhere. I’m confused, and unsure of where we stand. But one thing is for certain, I’m incredibly grateful to the man in front of me.
“Thanks for staying last night, I was kind of a mess,” I say honestly, taking a sip of the coffee he hands me. My eyes follow him as he walks even closer to me. He stops when he’s directly in front of me, and good lord, he’s close. Why does he smell so good first thing in the morning? That doesn’t seem fair. My hand itches to reach out and touch his bare skin, to fold myself back into his arms and let him hold me.
But I don’t. Instead I hold my coffee between us like it’s some kind of shield. “I’ve got to get to the bakery and start prepping everything.”
He takes a casual sip of his coffee, acting oblivious to the sexual tension that I feel thrumming through me. He must feel it. There’s no way I imagined the hard length of his cock pressed against me this morning.
“What are you baking?” he asks. Maybe the sparks I feel jumping between us are all in my head. I’m starting to feel completely crazy.
“The usual. Triple berry scones, lemon poppyseed muffins,” I reply. “Maybe some bran muffins to say thank you again to a certain vet.”
His eyes flare slightly. “You don’t have to keep thanking me. But I certainly won’t turn away bran muffins.”
We both stand there, sipping coffee and staring at each other. I can’t figure out if he’s five seconds away from stripping my clothes off, or five seconds away from walking out the door. I’m so confused by this man.
