“Morning. I’m calling to see how you’re doing.”
JC smiled, resting her cheek against the hard planes of his chest. “I’m…great. I’m cooking bacon, eggs, and hash browns. You’re missing out.”
“Good! I’m glad you’re feeling better. Wait a minute. You’re cooking breakfast?” Tracy hesitated. “Holy crap! Are you with the neighbor?”
“I am with the neighbor. And his name is Reed.”
“You hooked up with the neighbor?” Tracy blurted, caution mixed with enthusiasm, followed by a short pause. “Was he good? Did he help you out with your little problem—”
“Hey, he’s right here and can hear every word you’re saying. And no, I did not hook up with him.”
“I don’t do hook ups.” Reed assured, loud enough for Tracy to hear. Humor coated his deep sexy voice
Tracy squealed with excitement. “What does that mean, he doesn’t do hook ups?”
JC’s face flushed so hard it could’ve burst into flames and she tried to bury her embarrassment in his chest. “I don’t know. Apparently Reed doesn’t do hook ups.”
Reed shook his head. “Nope! Tell your sister I’m workin’ on a girlfriend though.”
“Girlfriend!” Tracy shrieked, making JC pull the phone away from her ear. “Girlfriend! Evidently, he doesn’t know about your rulebook. What the heck is going on? I just talked to you two days ago.”
“It means I’ll call you later.”
“Wait! Wait! Don’t hang up. Why is he there for breakfast if you didn’t sleep with him?”
JC rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to have sex with him to make breakfast for him, do I?” She couldn’t see Reed’s face, but felt a low laughter in his chest. “I’ll call you later, Trace. Love you.”
“Love you too. I want details—” Tracy demanded as JC ended the call.
Releasing her from his arms, he leaned his hip against the counter. “You told your sister about me?”
“We’re sisters, Reed. We tell each other everything, almost everything. I thought you were a burglar remember? But I told her a lot about you.”
Folding his arms across his chest apprehensively, he squinted, questioning cynically, “You have a rulebook?”
Her lips pursed in a hard line and her eyes fell to the skillet as she flipped bacon. She’d never been self-conscious about her rulebook or dating ethics, but his stance made her uncomfortable. JC didn’t want him to judge her moral fiber or integrity.
Standing tall and turning to face him, she set the tongs on the counter and folded her arms across her chest, mimicking Reed. “Yep, I have a rulebook. And it’s full of ridiculous guidelines I started abiding by my senior year of high school. Stupid stuff, ya know? Never sleep with men on the first date. No married men or men who have girlfriends or kids, and I don’t date men more than five years older than me. I don’t use certain terms like, making love or I love you’s. I prefer to use the term dating as opposed to girlfriend and I don’t live with men. I stayed with a man for a few months, but it didn’t work out very well for me. At all!”
Taking note of her defensiveness, he unfolded his arms and rested his palms behind him on the counter. “Is that how you see me, JC? A hook up?”
“No. That’s not how I see you.” JC’s nose tickled and one tear trickled down her cheek. He stepped in front of her and wiped the droplet with his thumb, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I don’t know how I feel. You make me nervous. We just met and I told you more last night about my daddy than I have anyone else, except my family. You make my hands sweaty, and…and I never cry like this. I…I…just want to be around you,” JC confessed with bewilderment.
“Oh, hell. Don’t cry,” he said softly, pulling her against the length of his body with one hand and reaching behind her with his other hand to flip the bacon.
“I’m not crying. I’m just emotional for some stupid reason.”
“Darlin’, I’m from Texas. Where I come from, men don’t share. I won’t just date you. I fully admit I’m not completely opposed to hooking up, but that’s not what I want.”
She felt the bristle of his beard as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman and you’re not making it very easy.” He turned the gas burner off and set the tongs down.
“What is that supposed to mean?” She scowled, placing her hand on his chest, putting a few inches between them.
“That means, you look too good, you smell better than any woman I’ve ever been around. You’re eyes are the most beautiful shade of jade green, spotted with three honey colored flecks wrapped in root beer brown. One on your left eye and two on your right eye. And if you get any feistier...”