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her.
    She’d known that Jack grew up in foster care, but she’d assumed he formed some lasting connections with someone. Anyone. Was it possible he hadn’t?
    If she and Riley were all he had, no wonder he was wary and reluctant. It certainly wasn’t from lack of desire.
    Standing, she walked to the master bathroom. She gave a cursory knock, then cracked the door open. “Hey.”
    “Good morning.”
    His voice was warm and purring. The shower was enclosed with frosted glass, affording her just enough of a glimpse of his perfect body to light her up. She could get used to this.
    “Coffee’s brewed,” he said. “I picked up some of that sugar-free hazelnut creamer you like.”
    Sweatpants and a sweat-stained T-shirt lay piled on the floor. She couldn’t believe he’d exercised after their exertions the night before. She felt like an underachiever. She also felt loved and cared for.
    Jack paid attention to her and the things she liked in ways she hadn’t fully appreciated until Steve was gone. The flowers he sent weekly were either calla lilies, stargazer lilies, or tulips—her favorites. How did he know that? Perhaps Steve mentioned it. But her favorite Luzianne chicory coffee, which had to be ordered? Or her favorite hand cream, Japanese Cherry Blossom Shea Cashmere, the smell of which was usually hidden by her perfume? Even Steve, the one person who’d known her better than anyone, couldn’t remember that.
    Maybe Jack’s attention to detail was just part of who he was and the job he did. After all, the U.S. Marshals Service was responsible for the Witness Security Program. Maybe the little things he remembered about her were things he’d pick up on anyone, part of the process of wiping a person’s identity and erasing identifying habits. But maybe something more personal was involved. She hoped so, because she’d started falling in love with him over those gifts and how they made her feel. After years of having everything she loved denigrated and belittled by her aunt until she didn’t enjoy anything at all, Jack had taught her to celebrate the things that made her happy.
    Smiling at the thought, she bent down and picked up after him, grabbing his clothes and taking them out to the hamper in the bedroom. It wasn’t a task she was particularly fond of usually, but she was beginning to think Jack could use a little looking after. Besides, he’d made the coffee. She was willing to trade quite a bit for the pleasure of waking up to freshly brewed coffee.
    “Would you totally gross out,” she asked, returning to the bathroom, “if I use your toothbrush?”
    “Go for it.”
    Rachel was rinsing her mouth out when Jack turned off the water in the shower. Straightening, she turned and faced him, determined to catch the view. The door slid open. A dripping wet and gorgeously naked Jack appeared, and she gave an appreciative whistle. He was perfectly sculpted from head to toe. And the package in the middle, impressive even while semi-erect, made her hot and needy. She could
seriously
get used to this.
    His mouth twitched with suppressed amusement as he reached for the towel hanging on the wall. He’d shaved and looked less rogue warrior and more
GQ
cover model. She loved both looks on him.
    “Wait.” She stepped closer, licking her lower lip.
    Jack’s eyes filled with a heat that made her flush. His arm dropped back to his side. “I’m all yours.”
    JACK held his position despite the seemingly endless insurgence.
    As if Rachel sensed his wariness, she’d brought him a beer earlier, hiding it from the multitude of underage eyes with an insulated bottle cozy. He didn’t touch it, knowing from experience that it was best to stay razor sharp when surrounded by unknowns.
    From the safety of the grill, he eyed the dozen or so eight-year-olds running around the patio of Rachel’s small two-story condominium. It was a madhouse, but he didn’t feel as out of place as he’d expected he would. That was certainly