“Wash off the sidewalk and front porch.” He points at the others. “Quinn, you and Topher work on the leaves in the yard. I’m sure Elena has rakes. Maybe wash the outside windows.”

“Rakes are in the shed. Topher knows where,” I say. Might as well join in.

“Check the backyard too. Collect the leaves in trash bags,” Jack adds.

As the guys amble off, I ease in closer, brushing at my hair. Again. It’s no use. “Um, thanks for coming. You didn’t have to do all this.”

His lips tilt up. “Hmm.”

We just stand there. I swallow. I’m not looking at Mama, but I feel her staring at us.

She nudges me. “Elena, get some drinks out here. There’s ice tea or water or Sun Drops from the Cut ’N’ Curl. I closed it today, but here’s my key.” She presses it in my hand. “Take Jack with you to carry them.”

“Sure.” He nods, eyes on me. I don’t think he’s stopped looking at me. “Never had a Sun Drop,” he murmurs.

“Citrusy soda. Addictive. Bottled in Middle Tennessee,” I say.

Mama squints at him. “That’s because you’re a Yankee. In the South, we drink them all the time. You heard what I said about lunch tomorrow. You coming?”

Jack pauses, his face flushing. “I appreciate the invitation, but . . .” He looks at me, and I shrug.

All your fault, buddy.

“I, um, already have plans.”

I frown. Really? It’s the off-season.

But I know what it is.

He wants a little, but not a lot.

I get it, and I’m fine.

Totally fine.

“Next time, then.” She shoos us away. “Go on; stop gawking at each other. I’ll finish the staircase. Y’all can work on the screened-in porch when you get back.”

It’s like I’m a teenager all over again, and she’s ordering me around. Jeez, this is my house. Fine.

I take off for the beauty shop across the street, and Jack follows me, keeping pace.

Ugh! Why didn’t I at least put on lipstick this morning?

“Are you mad at me?” he asks quietly after a few steps of silence.

I dart a look at him, then back at the road in front of us. “For coming?”

He nods.

“No. I just figured I’d see you Monday at rehearsal.”

He frowns at that. “I didn’t see Preston.”

I scoff. “Is that why you came? To stake your claim?”

“Partly. Plus, I wanted to see where you lived.”

“I’m right off Main. Everyone knows my house.”

“It’s a beautiful place.”

“Thank you. There’s still a lot I want to do: modernize the kitchen, redo the hardwood, add a garage—that’s next for sure.”

“Nice.”

Our conversation is so . . . mundane! What is wrong with me?

Plus, I’m irked he turned down Mama for lunch.

Let that go, Elena.

I head to the door of the shop, unlocking it and heading inside. After clicking the lights on, I walk over to the white fridge and grab one of the cardboard boxes on the top to put the drinks in.

Jack is behind me. “I wish you’d look at me, Elena. Should I not have come? I just wanted to see you, and you sounded like you needed help.”

I shut my eyes. He’s not only great at orgasms, but he’s kind . . .

But . . . part of me is terrified.

He’s going to crawl inside my heart.

He’s going to break it into a million pieces.

“Yes. I’m glad you came.” I whip around, and he’s eased in closer, backing me up against the fridge.

He wipes at my cheek. “Smudge on your face.”

“Dusting.”

His elbows land on either side of my head against the fridge, eyes holding mine. “I can’t believe you left me—then hung up on me. No one treats me this bad.”

I cock my hip, feigning confidence I don’t have. “Figured I owed you one for the morning you left me.”

His head dips as his nose runs up my throat. “Also, you left a hell of a hickey on my neck; hence this awful turtleneck. Didn’t want your mama to see it.”

My breath hitches. “Jack . . .”

He kisses my ear, his teeth nipping at my lobe. “Yeah, say it like that again, all breathy, and I’ll forgive you for leaving me . . .” His chest presses against me. “I like your mama. She’s feisty. No wonder you turned out so wild. Little hellion.”

“I am not wild! I’m a librarian.”

“You keep saying that, but you’ve got a streak in you, and I like it.” His hand skates down to hold my hip. “This is what I wanted when I woke up. You. In my arms. Me inside you. I might have even pulled out the handcuffs. You missed out.”

“I have my own handcuffs. Pink and fuzzy . . .”

“Wild woman.”

“You best get rid of that tent in your jeans before we walk back,” I whisper.

He kisses my throat. “We’re going to get your place nice and pretty, Elena. And when everyone is gone, I’m going to do bad things to you in your bed. Is it one of those big old-fashioned ones, high off the floor?”

“No, it’s a new king-size one,” I say, sighing as he tugs at my hair, pulling it down.

He stares down at me. “I love your hair, the color, how long it is.”

“I’ll just have to put it back up. And we can’t do this in the beauty shop.”

“I just want to kiss you.”

“Uh-huh. Never knew a man who loved to kiss so much.” I slide my hands up his shoulders, tangling in his hair. “Now stop talking. Mama’s probably timing us. If we’re here too long, she’ll barge in.”

He laughs and takes my mouth, groaning as our lips cling.

And I’m lost all over again.

How will I ever let him go when it’s over?

Chapter 27

JACK

I tuck a Tigers hat on my head and exit the SUV and open the door of Leo’s Pizzeria, the place in Daisy Elena swore was the best place in town for takeout. I ease in the door and check out the interior. Busy as hell for nine o’clock at night on Saturday in a small town, but she’s starving after all the work we did today. I grin for no apparent reason other than I have to feed her, and if she wants pizza . . .

A few patrons I recognize from the school give me wide-eyed looks, then send me a wave. Friendly but not jumping up to mob me. I like that and wave back. Don’t feel like small talk. Just want to get back to her place.

“Do you have garlic knots?” I ask, recalling how she loves bread.

The cashier is a girl with braces, wearing a red Leo’s hat and an apron. She glances at me, then does a double take. “Uh, yeah. There’s six in an order.” She blinks rapidly.

“Right. Two of those, then. A large cheese, a large supreme, and a large pepperoni.” Damn. I’m probably ordering too much for just us, but I don’t know exactly what she likes. I left her at the house, laid out on the couch with that little pig in her lap, her lids shutting. She swore she just wanted a nap. I smile. She best get one, because I’ve got plans . . .

“Anything else?” the girl asks, staring hard at me.

I look down to take out my wallet, used to the avid attention, yet it always feels strange at first. Takes me a minute. “You got anything for dessert?”

“We have homemade chocolate pies. The owner’s wife makes them every Friday. They’re usually gone by tonight, but we have three.”

I nod. “Throw those in.”

She tells me the total, and I swipe my card.

She hands it back to me. “Uh, are you Jack Hawke?”

There it is. I put on a smile and look back up. “Yeah.”

“I saw you on TV today.”

I inwardly groan. “Well, I hope it was good.” Because it probably wasn’t.

She pushes up her glasses, and I automatically think about Elena. This could have been her a long time ago, a teenager working at a store, waiting for college. I wonder what she was like in high school. Total nerd, I bet. Shy. But not. Wild. But never showing it. I bet she ran the yearbook club or the library society with an iron fist. I wish I knew her then. Ah, hell, who am I kidding? She wouldn’t have looked at me twice. Football player. Jock. Never talked unless I had to.

“It was on The Today Show this morning, the weekend edition,” the cashier says, bringing me back.

I frown. “What was it?”

“It was a video of you running with a girl in your arms. It was pouring rain, and y’all ducked inside a hotel. There was a photo too—looked like you and Ms. Riley in some bakery.”

Dammit. Should have seen that coming.

“Can I get your autograph?”

“Uh, yeah.” My head is a million miles away as I sign a napkin she pushes at me.

I take a deep breath. I’ll need to warn Elena. I wince, hating to put her in the spotlight like that. If reporters start showing up here . . . fuck, I’m surprised they haven’t already with the play, but since that first pic with me and Timmy at the play, they’ve seemed to fade away. Not much long-term interest in a feel-good story for those jerks. Whatever. I may have started this with the intention of cleaning up my image, but I like Timmy and Laura. Genuine, honest people.

Pizza and the rest of my order in hand a few minutes later, I get back in my car just as my phone rings.

“What happened?” I ask Aiden. He left Elena’s around two o’clock so he could get ready for his date with Sophia. He must have left the gala early if he’s already calling . . .

“Is that any way to say hello?”