Page 119 of Wild As Her
There’s a soft clink on the nightstand, followed by the slow creak of the mattress. Then, warm hands slide around my waist, and Jack’s mouth brushes my shoulder. “Wake up, baby,” he murmurs, voice still thick from sleep.
I hum into the pillow, my body heavy with that delicious post-sex, post-emotional-vulnerability-last-night kind of bliss. “If this is a dream, I swear to God…”
“It’s not. But I did bring coffee and your cinnamon scones.”
My eyes snap open. “Say less.”
I roll over and sit up, hair a total disaster, wearing nothing but Jack’s worn and soft flannel. He’s beside me on the bed, shirtless, looking at me like he’s the damn patron saint of morning-after romance.
God, he’s mine. It was exhausting pretending to hate him when I love him so much it hurts.
Faint light from the lamp spills across his bare chest, his hair is still messy from sleep, and he looks at me like I personally hung the stars.
“You’re ridiculous,” I whisper, taking the mug.
“You love me.”
I do. I really, really do.
Before I can respond, he leans in and kisses me soft and slow, like we have all the time in the world. And when I kiss him back, something in my chest breaks open. It's terrifying. And electric. And a little bit magic. It feels like...I'm home. Like, everything makes sense with him here.
“Okay,” I breathe when we finally pull apart. “You don’t have to try so hard to get me to fall in love with you, Jack. I’m already there.”
“Too late,” he says, grinning. “I watched you do it in slow motion last night. Twice.”
I grin. But he's not wrong.God, he's cocky. But he's also perfect. And mine.
"What are you thinking?" he asks as he reaches over and picks up his own mug that used to be my grandpa's.
"Just wondering how the show is going to go and what's going to happen," I admit. "You've been looking awfully cozy with Elena."
He sighs and looks at me. "Jenna had us sign NDAs. But I can tell you that if I had to give up everything for you, I would. But we just have to hold out a little longer."
"Very cryptic," I shrug and take a sip of my coffee. "Mmm, Jack. Did you put cinnamon in it?"
He smiles. "Learning from the best."
A little later, we’re saddled up and riding out past the barn, coffee thermos and treats for the horses and Love in thesaddlebags like habit. The air is cool and crisp, the quiet that only belongs to early mornings on the ranch. Our favorite time of day.
Jack looks stupidly good on a horse. Relaxed, confident, like the land is part of him. And the way he glances at me every few minutes like he still can’t believe I’m here? Yeah. I’m toast.
I squint up at him as he shows off like some kind of Marlboro ad. “Flexin’ on a horse like a romance novel cover?”
He throws a smirk over his shoulder. “Jealous?”
“Of your ego? Never. Of the horse? Maybe.”
He laughs, and dammit, it’s unfair how good he looks doing it. “Don't worry, you can take me for a ride later.”
I laugh. “Deal. But don’t let it go to your already-too-big head.”
"You weren't complaining about the size of my dick earlier..."
"Jack!" I playfully laugh.
We ride for a while in comfortable silence, sipping coffee, pointing out calves and fence lines. Then we come over the ridge, and there it is.
Our tree.
