Jackson (Wild Boys After Dark, #3)(11)

He probably would have wrapped himself up in the blanket with her.

In fact, now that she was really thinking about it, he probably would have retrieved the fishing rod immediately after it fell in the water. He was always spouting off about his belongings. He took extra care in parking lots, choosing a spot away from the other vehicles, and when she stayed at his place, he always seemed to go into the bathroom after her and rearrange where she’d put her things—tucking her toiletry bag beneath the sink instead of leaving it out where she could get to it. She didn’t think those things bothered her. She hadn’t given them much thought until now.

Because she hadn’t had a marriage proposal hanging over her head.

An offer of forever.

She glanced at Jackson again, thinking about how easily they moved around each other. At Jackson’s place, she put her stuff wherever she wanted. In fact, from the day he’d first moved into his apartment, he’d left a few of his dresser drawers empty for her. She’d joked about him one day getting a girlfriend, who would freak out at seeing another woman’s lingerie in his bedroom. He’d smirked and said, That will never happen. He’d lived there for five years, and he’d been right.

He lifted his eyes to hers and smiled as he put a bookmark in his book and set it to the side. “Are you done mulling?”

He knew her so well. Bryce might not have even noticed she was deep in thought.

Why was she suddenly picking apart Bryce? He wasn’t there to defend himself.

“I don’t think I’m done,” she said with a smile. “But I can take a break from it.”

He patted the blanket beside him, and she rose from the log she was sitting on and lay on her side facing him.

“You okay?” he asked, searching her eyes for the truth.

She knew that no matter what she said, he’d know she wasn’t really okay, so she skipped answering and shrugged one shoulder. Despite her proposal worries, she didn’t have to force a smile. The shock of the proposal had eased, and simply being with Jackson and knowing how deeply he cared about her well-being made her sincerely happy.

“Well, I might have just the thing to cheer you up.” He pushed to his feet and disappeared into the tent, leaving Laney to flop onto her back and gaze up at the stars, wondering what in the hell she was going to do.

He came out of the tent with a coy grin that brought her upright again. He had both hands behind his back, and when he crouched beside her and raised his brows, her insides went a little crazy with anticipation. She loved surprises, and Jackson was always full of little unexpected gifts.

“What have you done?” she teased, trying to peek around his shoulders.

He turned to block her view. “Uh-uh. I want to say something first.” His eyes trailed over her face, as if he were trying to read her. Then he drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

“Happy birthday,” he said, and with one hand still behind his back, he set a paper plate on her lap with a giant piece of cake and a plastic fork.

“Jackson!” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He used one hand to push her away. “Trying to see what else is back there?”

She laughed, because he was right.

“How did you get this here without me knowing?” She dipped her finger into the thick white frosting and sucked the sweetness off of it, feeling Jackson’s eyes on her the whole time. “Want some?”

“Always.” There was no mistaking the innuendo in his tone.

She swiped her finger over the frosting again and brought it to his lips. “Then you shall have it.”

He sucked her finger into his mouth and swirled his tongue until the frosting was gone and her insides were hot. She scooted in closer and held his face between her hands, staring into his gorgeous eyes. She loved his eyes so much and knew every look by heart, from seductive to contemplative, puzzle solving to sleepy, and she loved every one of them.

“You’re the best friend I could ever have, Jackson, and I love you.”

There was a dreamy intimacy to their kiss that she adored as much as the hungry, lust-filled kisses they’d shared earlier. When their lips parted, his eyes turned serious.

“You’re the best friend I could ever have, too, Laney, and I love you more.”

She smiled as he handed her a wrapped gift. “Jackson…”

“No mushy stuff, just open it.”

She was already tearing through the paper, revealing a leather-bound photo book with a picture of them on the cover. She ran her fingers over the image of him looking away from the camera. In the photo he was wearing a white button-down shirt with the top three buttons open. His eyes were serious, and the scruff on his chiseled jawline gave him the edgy look of a protector. Laney was draped over his shoulder from behind, her forehead leaning on the back of his head, her eyes closed. One arm hung over his chest, her thumb in his shirt. Her other hand was pressed to his right pecs, and his hand covered hers. The strap of her peach dress hung halfway down her arm. Her heart squeezed at the image. They looked like lovers in the intimate pose.

“This is one of my favorite pictures.” She looked up at him, and he was still gazing down at the picture. “Cooper took it the night after your father’s funeral, in your mother’s backyard.”

He cleared his throat, and his answer came out in a scratchy whisper. “Yeah.”