I tucked the damp strands of my just-washed hair behind my ear and brushed my thumb over the touch screen. I didn't recognize the number but knew the message could only be from one person. I'm coming to see you. That was so Jack. He didn't bother to ask if I was busy or if my earlier invitation still stood. Nope. He was coming to see me. End of story. Still in my robe, I hurried to my bathroom and the attached walk-in closet. I considered my options and picked a simple camisole and cotton boyshorts. I wasn't quite sure about the fashion rules for this kind of thing. I figured the sweetly innocent but slightly sexy look was safe. Not overly slut-tastic but just suggestive enough to let him know I was still interested in finishing what we'd started. The light rap of knuckles at my bedroom door interrupted my last minute primping. I inhaled a steadying breath and crossed my room. I hesitated a moment before opening my door. Jack loomed in the doorway. He'd left his jacket somewhere, probably in the guest house out back, and had rolled up his sleeves to reveal thick, corded forearms.
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