Page 73 of Work with Me

“On what?” He dipped his head closer until I felt his warm breath on my cheek.

“On whether you’re staying in town or going home.”

“Home? Home is here. With you.” He touched his lips to mine, and in the dark, with the pink fading into purple in the star-dotted sky, a flame ignited inside me. If I could’ve opened my eyes, I’d have expected my fingers to glow against his chest. The bats and the roosting birds made soft music around us.

Jackson had taken my hometown and made it more. He’d brightened the sunset, added an extra twang to the honky-tonk music, and made me feel alive at work the way I’d never felt before.

And he was staying. When the project ended, a week from Monday, I’d keep the new-and-Jackson-improved Austin.

“Alicia,” he muttered, kissing across my cheek to my ear, “I can hear you overthinking. Let go. Enjoy the moment.” And then he found a place on my neck that lit me up like the neon signs on Sixth Street. I curled my hands behind his neck and hung on for my life as he nosed lower to my jacket collar and then back up and found my lips again.

We sipped, we tasted, we devoured each other. When I swiveled my hips against his, the steely ridge of his erection rubbed promises against my belly.

He tipped his forehead against mine, breathing hard. “One week.”

Damn. If he hadn’t pulled away, I’d have dragged him off into the bushes. I sighed. “One week.”

He dipped down and picked up my ball cap, which had fallen off at some point, probably when I’d tried to dry-hump him in a public park. He placed it on my head backward and then kissed me gently on the temple. “Maybe after the project’s over, you’ll show me the Alamo?”

“Remember, it’s in San Antonio. Ninety minutes each way.”

“We’d have to stay overnight, I think.” One corner of his mouth kicked up.

A hotel room. And Jackson Jones. I shivered, though I wasn’t cold anymore. “Okay.”

“Promise?” Just like tonight, he’d be excited as a little boy.

“Promise.”

“It’s still early. Want to go to dinner?”

“Might as well. I know a great place for tacos.”

He grinned. “Of course you do. Let’s go.”

Placing my hand in his, I led him back onto the trail and toward the bright lights of downtown.

* * *

“Hey.”

The following Friday, Jackson’s voice startled me. I glanced up from the code I was checking. He held a red plastic cup, and the sharp scent of hops curled into my nose.

“Party was a dud?” I asked.

He smiled. “Yeah. You weren’t there. So I brought the party to you.” He plunked the cup onto the desk beside me.

“That’s sweet, but I—” I waved at the screen. I was not going to screw up what I hoped was our final demo to Cooper Fallon. I was scanning every line of code, even after it’d passed the automated testing process. Leave it to Cooper to perform a key sequence the quality assurance process didn’t test.

“You know what they say about all work and no play.”

“You mean that it makes for a flawless demo?”

He scrunched his eyebrows together. “Not what I had in mind.” He reached out and hovered his hand an inch from my shoulder. “May I?”

I looked around. The floor was deserted. Not even a key clicked on the other side of the row of potted trees. “I guess?”

He squeezed the muscles that connected my neck to my shoulder and then dug in with his fingers. “This okay?”

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