Page 64 of The Way We Win

“Did you try on my glasses?” I snort a laugh.

“I just held them up. Come with me.” Clasping my hand, he walks me to the door, hesitating to peek out of the curtains. “It’s still early enough. We should be okay.”

Still holding my hand, we walk out to his truck. “If I’m your dirty little secret, you’re not trying very hard to hide me.”

He stops, pressing my back to the passenger’s door. “Maybe I’m not.”

Leaning forward, he seals his mouth over mine, but I stop short of full-on tongue-kissing him. “When I’ve brushed my teeth.”

A hint of annoyance flashes in his eyes, and his voice lowers. “If I want to kiss you, I will.”

My stomach jumps, and I exhale a nervous laugh. I won’t lie, Bossy Jack is hot as fuck.

Licking my bottom lip, I nod, and he puts his hands on my face, both thumbs on my cheeks. The intensity in his gaze shallows my breath. If I were wearing panties, they’d be soaked.

He holds me, but as he studies my expression, he seems to soften. Lifting his chin, he kisses my forehead.

“Get in the truck.” Releasing me, he walks around the front of the vehicle.

I try not to collapse on the spot—or drop all of my things. I open the door and hop inside. It takes less than five minutes to get to my house, and I hold his hand the entire way.

My entire body is lit with excitement, euphoria, elation… all theE-emotions I can summon. I spent all night with Jack Bradford. I’m smiling as I gaze at the brightening sky through the windshield.

“What are you singing?” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of my fingers as we pull into my driveway.

“Was I singing?” I try to think. “I have no idea… I didn’t even realize.”

“Fuck, Allie.” He laughs, pulling me closer and kissing my neck. “You are so damn cute.”

His words flood warmth through my entire body.

“Now get out of here before we’re busted.”

“Yes, sir!” A laugh hiccups on my breath, and he shakes his head.

The hint of a smile curling his lips has me floating all the way into my small house.

“What time didyou get home last night?” I look up as Austin scuffles into the kitchen.

I’m sitting at the table holding a cup of coffee and reading theLibrary Journal’s newsletter on my phone. I’ve changed out of Jack’s jersey and boxer shorts, and now I’m in black leggings and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

He exhales a grunt, holding the counter as he hops over to pull a Mountain Dew from the fridge.

“That late?” I tease, putting my foot down and hopping up to give him a hug before checking the oven. “I made Pillsbury cinnamon rolls. Want one?”

Another harumph, but he nods. “I want all of them.”

Going to stand by my big boy, I muss the front of his long brown bangs. “You never were much of a morning person. But you still have to share.”

An exhale huffs through his nose, and he lifts his chin. “What time didyouget home last night?”

My brow rises, and I peek over at him from where I’m glazing the rolls.

He’s watching me, and I force a laugh. “What do you mean?”

“When I got home, your bedroom door was open.” He hops over to sit at the table and put his foot up on a chair. “You were not in bed.”

“Ahh…” I scrub the front of my hair, trying to think. “What time was that?”

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