“I’ll clear my calendar. We should get as much practice in as possible.”
Lily-Grace loved that idea and also dreaded what the next day would bring. She knew this bubble, or at least the shape of it and the illusion it presented. Also she was definitely still dick drunk. Tomorrow she’d be able to think more realistically about what had just happened and what might happen next. She still needed to make a plan, figure out what was next forher,but she settled into an idea ofthem.She could play it by ear, but that wasn’t the way her brain worked. There was a good chance Jesse was headed to Washington, and a small chance he’d ask her to join him.
Several long, quiet minutes had passed when she realized how much overthinking she was doing. Definitely play this by ear, she reminded herself. This was easy, being with Jesse, and trying to plan it to death would definitely ruin it. She closed her eyes and decided communicating was for the best.
“Are you awake?” Lily-Grace’s whisper melted into a giggle as Jesse squeezed her shoulder.
“Yes, I’m awake.”
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“How soft your skin is.” She shivered as his thumb stroked down her shoulder in the most loving caress. Again, not to compare, but no man had ever touched her like that.
“Why, thank you. I like to take care of myself. It’s amazing how you, and, well, other people can give you like five hundred different complexes about yourself. I have to say thank God for the Internet though. I found this super specific group online, Black women with vitiligo who also read romance novels. And it was nice to have people to talk to about things with and share tips with. I’ve made some good friends in that group.” Which reminded her to check in. Her friend Bonnie was expecting, any day now. “Anyway, it’s nice to feel empowered and supported. It makes it easier to take care of myself the way I want to.”
“Hmmm,” was all Jesse said in reply.
“What? Are you not a big romance reader or not wild about self-care?”
“I love a good skin-care routine,” he said. “And I’ve never read a romance novel, but considering how many reality dating shows I watch with Lilah, I should probably start.”
“Oh, I have plenty of recommendations for you.”
“I’ll take a list—Ah, no, I was thinking about the group chat part. It sounds nice.”
“Oh, it is. You’re not a part of a hot-guys-who-own-ranches group chat?”
Jesse’s chest jostled her as he laughed. “No. I have a group chat with my family and one that’s just me and my brothers, but that’s it. I don’t have many friends.”
A pang of guilt touched Lily-Grace’s throat. Jesse was capable of being a complete butthead, but he wasn’t a bad person. She wanted him to have friends. She didn’t have tons, but she couldn’t imagine her life without Jenny or Bon and the girls. Jesse and his cousin seemed close, but she knew it wasn’t the same thing.
“What about Fetu? He’s new here. He seems pretty cool. You should hang out with him.”
“Hmmm.”
“What’s wrong with Fetu?” She laughed.
“Uh, nothing. Just thinking.”
“So what’s the next thing in the bedtime routine?” she went on, sensing he was done with the friendship portion of the conversation.
“This.” Jesse rolled over on his side and pulled her into the curve of his body. The perfect big spoon-little spoon situation. He leaned over and dropped kisses on her neck and her shoulder over and over.
“Good night,” he whispered.
“Good night,” she whispered back. She had to fight the urge to hatch a plan just to keep Jesse Pleasant.
* * *
Jesse’s alarm went off early as hell, but Lily-Grace happily accepted his offer for her to stay in bed. She dozed off again to the sound of the shower turning on. The scent of nutmeg woke her up an hour later. She climbed out of his bed and went to change back into her clothes. She rinsed her face and put on some fresh lotion before she went to find him. She’d take a nice long shower when she got home.
Jesse was in the kitchen, dressed for work, whipping up one of those eight-course breakfasts that make absolutely no sense on TV He was back in his apron, covering his pristine dress shirt and tailored slacks.
“Hey, you look busy,” she teased.
He glanced over to her as he turned off the stove and added two more pieces of French toast to one of the plates. The other had a stack fit for a lumberjack. Or a six-foot-seven rancher. “Morning. I was going to bring this to you in bed.”
“Before you go to work? Damn, Pleasant. Are you looking for a girlfriend or a wife?” she joked. Yup, definitely joking.
