But she had to say it casually enough so he wouldn’t get freaked again. Obviously he was worried she’d get emotionally attached—hence the closet conversation—so she needed him to believe that she wouldn’t.
She took off the white dress and changed into—ugh—the world’s least sexy pajamas. She fluffed up her hair, put on vanilla lotion, spritzed her belly button with Chanel No. 5, and pulled on her tall tube socks.
Wow, not even an inch of exposed skin.
When she came out of the bathroom, she was surprised to see Jack standing out on the balcony, in the dark. The lights from their room illuminated his tall form, and she could see he’d stripped down to his white undershirt, dress pants, and bare feet. “Which side of the bed do you want?” she asked.
He turned around, looked at her, and scowled. “That is what you’re sleeping in?” He stepped back inside, sliding the door closed.
“Shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I know it’s—”
“You don’t have any pants you can wear?”
She paused. “What?”
“Pants.” He pointed to her legs, his eyebrows all bunched together, and repeated, “Pants. You don’t have any you can sleep in?”
She narrowed her eyes. “No . . . ?”
He sighed. “We can’t sleep in the same bed if you’re not wearing pants. Come on, Hal.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” She heard her voice rise to an irritating pitch. “You think my pajamas are, what—inappropriate?”
He said, “They’re not inappropriate unless we’re sharing a bed.”
“Then they’re inappropriate?” she asked, wondering if he was losing it.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
She put her hands on her hips. “What is wrong with you?”
“Hal, I didn’t bring any pajama pants,” he said, as if that totally explained his reaction to her pajamas. “I sleep in my boxers.”
“So?”
“So . . . ?” He gestured wildly with his right arm, like a point had just been made.
“So, I’ve seen boxers before, Jack.”
He made a noise that was a cross between a groan and a growl. “You’re being obtuse on purpose.”
“I’m not.” So much for gathering the courage to beg him to sleep with her. She sighed and said, “I’m going to get in bed while you go wash up. I will be buried under covers when you come out, my inappropriate flannels hidden from the world, and you can just squeeze your eyes shut and duck under the covers on your side. We will be fine.”
He dragged a hand through his hair and said, “I just think we need to proceed with caution.”
“Go change.” Hallie walked away from him, going to her suitcase to find the book she’d brought for the trip. He didn’t say anything as he brushed past her and went into the bathroom, and after the door closed, she rolled her eyes at him so hard they probably would get stuck, just like her mother had always warned.
She was lying on her side reading when the mattress dipped and Jack got under the covers. He smelled like Irish Spring soap, and her entire body tingled at his closeness. She thought he was going to just sleep, but he quietly said, “Hal?”
“Yeah?” Her voice was almost a whisper, stuck inside of her tight throat.
“I didn’t mean to overreact.” His voice was low and gravelly, and it did things to her when he said, “I’m sorry.”
She turned over, and just like that, his gaze was focused on her as they lay side by side, face-to-face in bed. As if that weren’t enough to make her spontaneously combust, his naked chest was just right there. She said, “You’re looking out for us—I get it. We’re cool.”
One side of his mouth kicked up a little. “Oh, well, thank God we’re cool.”
They shared a smile, more intimate than any they’d ever shared as their heads rested on matching pillows, and she reached out her index finger and traced the center line of his strong nose. “If I say something, do you promise to forget it if you disagree?”
A crinkle appeared between his eyebrows. “Okay . . . ?”
“Okay.” Hallie lifted her head and moved her pillow closer to his so their pillows were touching, and she laid her head back down. She looked down at his chest, because she couldn’t dare look at his face. “I know what we said in the closet, but I think we can have sex and it will totally be fine.”
Chapter
TWENTY-THREE
Jack
He felt like he’d just been jolted with a cattle prod. “What?”
What in the actual fuck?
The smell of her swirled around his head as she leaned on her elbow and said, “Hear me out. I think we can absolutely have a weekend full of amazing sex, and nothing has to change.”
He lay there, frozen in place, as she started rambling.
“We’re adults, Jack, and we’ve slept together before. Since we don’t have emotional baggage, why not sleep together? We obviously have sexual chemistry, so I say we do whatever feels right this weekend and then leave it all in Vail. As long as we don’t feel anything other than sexual attraction, it won’t be a problem, right?”
He was pissed and turned on and disappointed, all at the same time. Because every molecule of his being wanted Hallie Piper. She was all he ever thought about anymore. And when he’d turned around and saw her in that stupid flannel nightgown and hot-as-hell knee-high socks, he’d wanted to drop to his knees and beg her to love him forever.
So yeah . . . it was a sweeping understatement to say he wanted to have a weekend full of sex with her. Especially now that she was lying inches away from him under the same heavy blanket. He wanted to get rid of that nightgown, leave the socks, and explore every inch of his tiny bartender.
But he couldn’t enjoy the thought, because she kept saying shit like we have no emotional attachment and it’s purely physical. She smiled that funny grin—his favorite one—and said, “So why not spend the rest of the weekend doing everything a couple does, Jack? We can promise to tell each other if we start to feel something. Then, if that happens, we’ll stop and go back to how it was before.”
He sighed.
“Think about it. If you start wondering if you have feelings for me, you can just say ‘I might feel something’ and we’ll flip it right back before it becomes a thing. It’ll be like tapping out.”
Too late to fucking tap out, he thought, so he said, “It’s a terrible idea, Hal.”
A flicker of something crossed over her face—hurt?—but just like that, her smile was back in place. “Can I ask you a serious question, then?”
God, he wanted to kiss her so badly. He looked at her mouth and said, “Sure.”
“Are you worried about me, or you? Because I am absolutely positive I will not catch feelings for you. A thousand percent. So . . . are you afraid of falling for me?”
He ground his teeth together so hard that his jaw felt like it might break, but he managed to give her a smile. “Fuck, no.”
Her chin raised. “So why not, then?”
Jack’s chest burned as he looked at her fierce, ornery face as she promised to never fall in love with him. He shrugged and said the truth.
“Because it’s too good with us for it not to become a habit.”
She wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t—”
“How much do you remember about that night, Hal? For real.”
Hallie