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in his kitchen then she did in her own.
    “Please,” he said and she poured him a cup, leaving it black
as he took it.
    She noted that he’d set her creamer out for her. Funny.
She’d never given it a thought before but Jonas tended to keep things in his
kitchen, in his refrigerator, that were for her. The tea bags on the counter
and the teakettle that she bet was only used when she was here. Her favorite creamer.
She moved to open the fridge. Skim milk next to his two-percent, a jar of
mayonnaise that she loved even though he never ate it, and other little things
that she just hadn’t paid attention to.
    What type of guy did that? Hell, even the guys she’d dated
for a while never went to the effort of keeping her creamer at their house. But
Jonas did. Jonas always had. He found out what she liked and the next time she
was over he inevitably had it for her. How had she failed to see what was in
front of her this entire time? He’d always cared about her, looked out for her,
been there for her.
    She walked over to him just as he turned with the plate of
bacon in one hand, French toast in the other. As soon as he set them on the
table she moved into him and hugged him close, leaning her head against his
chest. His arms wrapped around her and held her tight. Comfort. Warmth.
Acceptance. He offered them all. And love. He said he loved her.
    “You okay?” he whispered against the top of her head.
    “Yeah.” She nodded. “I’m wonderful.”
    “Yeah?” he asked and used his hand to tip her face up to
look at him.
    “Yeah.” She smiled, lifting up to kiss him. It was slow and
sweet and made her heart stutter more than all the passion they’d shared the
night before. “I’m starving.”
    “I made food.” He smiled, pointing to the table.
    He held her chair out while she sat and then went around and
took the seat across from her. He always did that. Waited for her to sit before
he did. Stood when she stood. Held doors open for her. Always walked on the
street side of her, keeping himself between her and the road. He was a
gentleman.
    “You work today?” he asked while they filled their plates.
    She shook her head, her mouth already filled with the first
bite of syrupy toast. He made the best.
    “Feel like spending the day with me?” he asked.
    “Sure,” she answered between bites. She was almost finished
and he had yet to take a bite. “What did you have in mind?”
    “A motorcycle ride,” he said. “No particular destination.
Just a ride. Maybe dinner later.”
    “Sounds good,” she agreed, forking another piece onto her
plate and grabbing another slice of bacon. “If you plan on eating more than
what’s already on your plate, you’d better get started. I won’t be nice and
save you any. It’s too damn good.”
    He laughed and dug in.
    “I need to go by my house,” she said. “Change clothes.”
    He nodded.
    “Maybe pack a bag for tonight?” she asked. Did he want her
to stay another night with him?
    “I’d like that.” He smiled.
    “Okay.” She grinned. “I’ll head over to my apartment after
breakfast then. Change clothes and throw some stuff in a bag.”
    “You want to drive back over here or me to pick you up?” he
asked.
    “I’ll head back here,” she decided. “That way I have my car
in case I need it for something.”
    “Sounds good,” he said and reached out to take her hand in
his. “I’m glad you didn’t listen to me last night.”
    “Which time?”
    “When I told you to just leave. I’m glad you stayed.”
    “Me too.”
    * * * * *
    Jacey had her clothes from the night before in a bag she’d
grabbed from Jonas. She dumped them in her overflowing laundry basket and
thought with disgust that she really needed to do laundry. Or go shopping. She
opened drawers, tossing stuff aside as she found the bras and panties she
wanted to wear and packed them. She tossed shorts and jeans in along with a few
different shirts she liked.
    She opened her lingerie drawer and dug