Page 65 of All Jacked Up

“Jesus, Shakespeare, a man needs a warning before you open a door, looking like that.”

Yep. Definitely not covering up.

“I forgot what I was wearing,” I told him. “Sorry. Uh, did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was thinking about you leaving tomorrow, and seeing as I didn’t know when we’d get a chance to see each other again, I thought …” He sighed and looked down the hallway. “I can’t concentrate on what I am saying with you in that thing.”

The flutters were all back now, and my nipples were hard. Which he’d see if he took a glance at them. This nightie didn’t hide much.

“I guess you don’t have that stained terry-cloth robe with you,” he said with a grin while still not looking at me.

“Nope. My cats, uh—bird likes to snuggle with it when I’m away.”

He chuckled. “Right. Well then, I guess I’ll have to endure it.”

I bit my bottom lip to keep from breaking into a massive grin.“Ransom, what did you come to ask me?”

“Uh, well, at the time, it sounded like a good idea. Now, I am questioning it.”

“What did?” I urged, wanting to hear it now more than before.

He rubbed his jawline. “I thought I’d sleep in here.”

I held in my shocked gasp, but my eyes widened. That couldn’t be helped. He wanted to sleep in bed with me? I wanted to shout outYES, but that would likely send him running out the front door until I was gone.

“And do what? Talk?” I asked, wanting more specifics on what it was he was thinking.

He cut his eyes to me. “Yeah, I figured until we fell asleep. If you go first, I can always go back to my room. I’m just … I’m going to miss having you around. I’ve enjoyed you being here.”

Lord, help my heart. He was killing me. Why did it have to be this way with the one man I wanted?

I stepped back so he could come into the room. “Talking will probably keep the bad thoughts away and help me sleep better,” I told him. Which was true. I’d go to sleep thinking of him and not my past.

He hesitated, then finally stepped into the room.

“I’ll stay on top of the covers,” he said with a crooked grin.

“You do that,” I replied. But I would rather you get those clothes off and get under them. “The jeans you have on don’t look comfortable. Where are your pajama pants?”

His eyes started to drift down my body again, and he stopped, wincing and looking away. “Could you go get in bed? Cover up.”

He’d most likely seen my nipples poking through the fabric. That was a tad bit embarrassing. Turning, I went back to the bed and sat down, then slid my feet under the covers and laid my head on the pillow before meeting his gaze again.

“Better?” I asked.

He bit his bottom lip, then shook his head. “Not really.”

I waited, and finally, he walked over to the other side and sat down on top of the covers, like he’d said he would. The only thing he’d taken off were his boots.

“Not going to change into your PJs?” I asked.

“Shakespeare, do I come across as someone who sleeps in PJs?”

Rolling my eyes, I turned over and tucked my hands under the pillow as I stared up at him. “Whatever you sleep in. Sweats or shorts. You know what I mean.”

He lay down across from me. “I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

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