Jackson reaches out, then stops, his hand frozen halfway in between us, then starts to pull back before I reach out and take his hand. “It's good to spend time with a friend again,” I tell him, squeezing. “Really.”
“Well, then maybe I can convince you to have dinner with me at a decent restaurant before we start work tomorrow?” Jackson asks. “We can even do a workout here in the room beforehand if you want to make sure the calories are consumed wisely. Just no pushups, I can't handle any pushups.”
“Today's a leg day anyway,” I tease him, then nod. “Okay. But we can skip the workout. I think we've earned a three or four-day vacation. Instead, maybe we could do some sightseeing or something? I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.”
“Sure,” Jackson says, giving my hand another squeeze. “Where do you want to go?”
“Uh... well, I've always wanted to try hanging out in the trendy places, with the beautiful people,” I tell him. “To be honest, it was a little cool being Kitty in that dress the first night. I felt... pretty.”
I wouldn't admit it to myself then, but I did enjoy that part of dressing up. Sure, I was trying to be a seductive vixen, but I did enjoy being pretty. At the time I was too angry and driven to let myself feel it, but afterward, I had to admit that I enjoyed that part of the whole operation. I expect Jackson to look upset or maybe angry, but instead, his smile spreads and his eyes are deep blue with meaning. “You don't know just how pretty you are, Katrina. But yeah, I think we can do that. How about we get changed, dress up a little, and head over to Ocean Drive. If anything, there's probably some shops that we can stop by, they'll have stuff that will look amazing on you.”
The idea of shopping for a reason other than pure functionality is strange and leaves butterflies in my stomach, and I nod. “Can I just wear my normal gear until we find a shop?”
Jackson chuckles and nods. “Only if I get to wear what I want.”
I nod and we get off the bed. I go over to my bag and look inside, taking out my second best pair of pants besides the jeans I wore for the flight, a baggy set of denim blue cargo pants and a skin-hugging white cotton crop top. I look at the top, then at my t-shirt, and decide to go with the crop top. Miami's a place where people can show a little skin, right?
I take my clothes inside the bathroom to change, while Jackson stays in the room to do his thing. “So how long did Darcy say it was going to take to verify the addresses?” Jackson asks as I take off my jeans.
I glance toward the door and notice with a start that it's not totally closed. I'm sure I closed it before, but maybe the latch is broken or something, and in the little gap in between, I can look out into the room. I don't mean to be a voyeur, but seeing Jackson stripping down to just the boxer briefs he's wearing sends a warm tremble through my belly. He's muscular, which I knew, but I didn't realize just how muscular until just now. Now I can see every ripple of muscle, even down to his lower back and along his spine. Yeah, I may have joked with him a little the other day about being nonfunctional, but looking at him now, I can think of plenty of functions that Jackson's body is more than capable of doing well. I clear my suddenly dry throat and cough once. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I asked how long you think it'll take your friend to verify the addresses?”
The mention of our purpose for being in Miami clears my head, and I pull on my normal pants, cinching the belt that’s already in the belt loops. “Maybe another day. I'll be honest, if she doesn't get back to us by tomorrow, I want to check out a couple of the addresses ourselves. It's more dangerous, but at least it's foolproof.”
“You sure about that?” Jackson asks. I pull my sports bra on, then the light top that I'm wearing on top that'll protect my arms. I’m pretty pasty white. I haven't been spending a lot of time in the sun. “I mean, if they went the whole mile, they could’ve gotten plastic surgery. They might look completely different. I know Mom looks a lot different than she did from even ten years ago.”
“I doubt either of them have gone off the deep end like Margaret has,” I reply, to which Jackson laughs. I know he doesn't have a lot of affection for Margaret, who's treated him nearly as badly as Peter has. Imagine treating your own son like he's the reason your husband cheated on you? Despicable. “Besides, I'd know.”
I go out into the main room, stopping when Jackson turns around. He's pulled on some aqua blue shorts with a white linen belt, and a tropical printed shirt that makes him look like a native. He hasn't buttoned it yet, and I can see the ridges of his chest and stomach muscles through the gap. He looks down. “Sorry, you're a little fast.”
“Not a problem,” I say, going to my bag and reaching in for the sunscreen I made sure to purchase. SPF fifty or bust. “Besides, I'm showing off my belly, why not show off yours, too?”