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and
rustled his energetic dog’s fur. “Tinker, down. I’m sorry. He’s only nine
months old, and he hasn’t finished his obedience training yet.”
    “I don’t mind.” She laughed again as Tinker frantically
wagged his tail and attempted to kiss his master as well. With his floppy ears
and wrinkly face, Tinker was adorable. “What breed is he?”
    “He’s called a Bug.” Jackson looked up at her and she
realized they were unsettlingly close again. “Half Boston Terrier, half Pug.”
    “More like half-crazy energy.” Tinker launched himself at
her again and she obliged the dog by lavishing him with more attention. “He’s
cute.”
    “Only when he’s not eating my socks and chewing on the damn
coffee table.” He broke the headiness of the moment by standing again. “He
likes you. You should feel honored. He doesn’t like many people other than
Livie and me. Every time he sees my mother, he growls.”
    Emma stood too. “Maybe he knows she’s allergic?”
    He raked a hand through his hair and considered her. “You
sure do have a mean memory, Em.”
    She was about to blurt that she always remembered things
that were important, but she bit her tongue at the last second. His life wasn’t
important to her, hadn’t been in years. And yet here she was, mooning over him
like a girl.
    “It comes in handy sometimes,” she simply said, turning to
take in the vaulted ceiling and breathtaking staircase in the entry hall. “So,
are you going to show me around, Jackson, or do I have to stand here in the
foyer forever?”
    “There’s that acid tongue again. L.A. turned you into a
spitfire.”
    “I always was one and you know it.”
    “True enough. I guess some things don’t change.” He gestured
for her to follow him. “This way.”
    The tour of his house left her in awe. It was an
architectural gem, as carefully constructed on the inside as the outside
suggested. His furniture was spare but well constructed, befitting a bachelor
pad. He didn’t take her through the master bedroom, and it was just as well she
reasoned as they wound up in the bright kitchen. They sat on barstools around a
granite-topped island, sipping coffee. It was all very innocent and grownup.
Tink chewed on a bone in a slat of sunlight on the tile floor.
    There was no reason why her thoughts should continuously
veer into sexual white-water territory. Except they did. She watched his strong
hands stroking the handle of his mug and then lifted her gaze to study his
handsome face, hardened into a mature masculine beauty. He still had eyelashes
a woman would kill for. His nose was a straight blade between high cheekbones,
his jaw wide and strong, made all the more appealing by a dark shadow of
scruff. And his sculpted mouth begged to be kissed. She wanted him, and the
realization both appalled and fascinated her.
    “You’re staring,” he murmured, cutting her thoughts short.
    “I’m sorry.” Her cheeks warmed. “It’s just strange seeing
you this way.”
    “I feel the same. You’re even more beautiful than I
remembered, Em.”
    His words cut straight through her with the efficacy of a
knife. She lost her breath for a few beats. “Do you ever think about back
then?” Before he could answer, her nerve abandoned her. “Forget I said that. It
was stupid. This is the first time I’ve been back here in years, and I’m
getting sentimental. I’m sorry.”
    He stood slowly. “Don’t apologize.” In two strides, he
closed the distance between them, standing close enough to her back that she
could feel the heat radiating from his muscled body. He ran a hand up her left
arm, gently trailing to rest above her heart. His lips grazed her ear. “Would
it sound crazy if I said I do?”
    She couldn’t move, hyperaware of his palm flattened over her
madly tripping heart. “Not any crazier than me asking in the first place.”
    “Em.” Jackson’s mouth was somehow on her neck. “I want you.”
    Emma turned, pressing her face into his.