JACKSON HAD KEPT his promise. He was still there the next morning, lying beside me on his stomach with one of his arms draped over my chest as he slept soundly. I didn’t want him to wake and me not be there, so I stayed in bed watching him like a complete creeper. Every once in a while, he’d mumble something incoherent that made me laugh, but mostly he was silent, and I took the opportunity to memorize his face and the lines of his body. He really was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. It took all my strength not to trace the outline of his strong jaw or kiss his full lips.

When he woke not too long after, though, I quickly remembered what I’d forgotten from our school days—Jackson Davenport was not a morning person. Well, not without strong coffee, and stat.

I remedied that by heading downstairs to get a pot brewing, while Jackson took care of making fried eggs and toast. Damn, was this what people did after they stayed the night? Wake up together, cook breakfast together, head off to work with a kiss on the cheek and an ass grab?

Huh, I thought, as I watched Jackson butter a piece of toast, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. Yeah, maybe I could get used to this.

“Grape or strawberry?” he asked, interrupting my ogling. When I met his eyes, he winked at me.

“Neither. I like the pear preserves on the second shelf, or the blackberry.”

“Ah, never had either,” he said, opening the fridge and taking out both jars, and I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Because I wanted to and because he was too damn irresistible.

I kissed the back of his neck and took a deep inhale, breathing in his scent. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Really? Not even sugar?”

“Really,” Jackson said. “What is it with you Southerners putting sugar in everything?”

“That’s what makes us sweet.”

“You including yourself in that?”

“Hey, I was pretty sweet last night,” I said, and playfully bit him on the shoulder to show just how nice I could be.

“That was you sweet? Damn. I’d love to see how you play dirty.”

“Mhmm.” The timer for the coffee went off and I slapped his ass and went over to grab a couple of mugs out of the cupboard. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“I’ve, uh, got the meeting this afternoon.”

The hand I had pouring the coffee jerked, sending a splash of scalding liquid onto my finger, and I shook off the excess. “Shit. Right.” The meeting. The whole reason Jackson was in South Haven in the first place. I’d conveniently forgotten about that in the last twelve hours.

“You okay?” he asked, taking my hand and looking at the burn. It was minor, but he still flipped on the faucet and made me hold my finger under the cold water for a minute.

“Thank you,” I said, and then picked up the mug of plain black coffee and handed it to him.

“I’ve got to prepare a few things beforehand, so I should probably get back to the hotel soon, but…can I see you? After?”

The way he seemed so uncertain that I’d want to see him had me grinning like a fool.

“Tell you what,” I said, “I’ll swing by the hotel once I finish up a couple of orders that need to go out, and we can do dinner tonight. Anywhere. Wherever you want.” Then I added, “I’ll even wear a button-up. This means you should definitely take advantage.”

“You could wear nothing at all and I’d take advantage,” Jackson said, and my stomach did the somersault I’d grown accustomed to when he was around. But I was also a little anxious and conflicted about what would happen when Jackson walked into that meeting later. He didn’t know it, but he was walking into the office of one of the closest friends I had in the world, and I didn’t want him losing his company any more than I wanted Jackson to fail at something he wanted and believed in.

“So this work thing… Do I say good luck or…?”

Jackson took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Just say you’ll see me tonight.”

A smile played at the corner of my mouth. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Good,” he said, and gave me a soft kiss. “Then that’s all I need.”