Chapter 5 Sage
SAGE
Icrack open the door of the guest room I stayed in last night, peering to the left, then to the right to make sure I’m the only one awake. I want to do something nice for Jackson after he insisted I stay with him.
I tried, half-heartedly, to protest, but he took control of the situation. Honestly, it was a relief to hand it over to him, knowing Jackson wasn’t going to give up until I was safe. I’ve never had that before.
Tiptoeing out into the kitchen with my French press in hand, I take stock of the breakfast supplies.
I have everything I need to make omelettes and toast, but I scrunch up my nose when I see Jackson’s ancient coffee maker and sad selection of freeze-dried coffee grounds.
Good thing I thought to bring my fresh, coarsely ground Ethiopian coffee.
I had a feeling my bodyguard wouldn’t be the same level of coffee snob as I am. He has much to learn.
Everything for breakfast comes together quickly, and I’m just finishing placing the full mugs of coffee on the table when Jackson walks into the room. My back is facing the doorway, but I feel his presence whenever he’s near.
“What smells so good in here?” Jackson asks, his deep voice sending a slow pulse through my body.
I turn around to answer, but I can hardly breathe when I see what he’s wearing. Up until now, I’ve only seen him in uniform, but today, he has on jeans and a black T-shirt. The dark fabric clings to his sculpted chest, and the jeans he’s wearing highlight his muscled thighs and tight ass.
Jackson Bennett is gorgeous on any day of the week, but seeing him in casual clothes is downright sinful. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, the muscles in his arm tensing and flexing with the motion.
“You look good in jeans,” I blurt out for some stupid reason. I slap my hand over my mouth to keep more embarrassing words from spilling out.
Jackson winks at me, freaking winks at me with his mesmerizing hazel eyes and sexy smirk I’m starting to see more often. “Thanks, I’m glad you like what you see.” Jackson takes a couple of steps forward, his eyes never leaving mine. “I have the day off, so I’m in civilian clothes.”
I’m still flustered by my outburst, and I’m not sure how to recover.
“So,” Jackson says, clapping his hands together. “What smells so good in here?” he asks for the second time.
“Breakfast!” I announce, happy to have something else to focus on. “Ham, cheese, and green pepper omelettes, toast, and the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.”
“Is that right?” Jackson asks before sitting down at the table.
I join him, surveying the meal I prepared. Jackson doesn’t hesitate to take a sip of the piping hot coffee first, his eyes widening as he swallows down the delicious liquid.
“Oh my God!” Jackson exclaims. “How did you get this heavenly brew from my ten-year-old coffee maker?”
“I wouldn’t touch that thing with a ten-foot pole,” I answer with a little smirk. Jackson rewards me with a smile, giving me confidence to continue. “The only way to get rich, full-bodied coffee like this is to use a French press.“
Jackson hums to himself and takes another sip, this time, closing his eyes as if to savor his drink. “Is this the same coffee I keep in my cupboard?”
“No way,” I answer with a little more disgust than I meant. Jackson laughs, and I realize my face must be twisted up into a grimace. “Not to insult your particular… Tastes,” I hedge. “But the key to getting this flavor is to use single-origin coffee beans, coarsely ground, in a French press.”
“Thank you for the crash course in coffee etiquette,” Jackson says. I don’t think he’s being sarcastic, but old insecurities push their way to the surface.
A blush creeps up from my neck, landing in my cheeks and making them glow bright red. I’m sure I sound stuck up and pretentious, which isn’t the impression I want to give my bodyguard.
“Sorry,” I’m quick to say, averting my gaze.
“I wanted to do something nice for you, and here I am, lecturing you on the right way to prepare coffee.” I stare at my hands, which are twisting the napkin in a nervous gesture.
My racing thoughts come to a halt when Jackson covers both of my hands with one of his.
“Hey,” Jackson says softly. “I wasn’t making fun of you, I promise.
I don’t know anything about coffee aside from pouring the cheapest stuff into the top of my coffee maker and splashing whatever amount of water seems sufficient at the time.
I love that you take your morning coffee so seriously.
I don’t think I’ve ever been that passionate about anything in my life. ”
“Sorry. I-I mean, thank you.” God, could I sound any more awkward?
“I should be thanking you,” Jackson says, giving my hand to squeeze before letting it go. “The food looks amazing, and the coffee is out of this world, but I think the company is my favorite part.”
It takes me a second to realize that by company, he means me. I’m sure he’s just trying to make me feel at ease since he’s my bodyguard, but I allow myself a few seconds to indulge in the fantasy that he actually finds me interesting and worthwhile.
In reality, I’m mousy, shy, and I live a small, lonely life. Not to mention all of my extra curves, and the fact that I’ve never had a relationship, or even a kiss. There’s no way this confident, older, unbelievably sexy, and accomplished man would ever look at me in the same way.
Jackson digs into his breakfast, making obscene noises as he chews and swallows his food. “This is the best omelette I’ve ever had,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Okay, now I know you’re just trying to flatter me. The best cup of coffee, I’ll accept. But the omelette is average, and you know it.”
“To each their own,” he replies cheekily.
Jackson clears his plate in five bites, almost as if to prove it really is the best breakfast he’s ever had. I finish up my meal and carry the dishes to the sink, getting ready to wash and dry them. Jackson steps up behind me, making my skin break out in goosebumps at the warmth of his closeness.
“You cooked, I should be the one to clean,” he says. Jackson is so close, I can feel his breath tickling the back of my neck.
I swallow thickly and get myself under control.
“It’ll get done faster if we work together,” I suggest. My bodyguard joins me at the sink, drying off each dish after I scrub it clean.
“Oops!” I say when I drop the skillet into the sink.
Water and soap bubbles splash onto the counter, along with a healthy dose all over Jackson’s shirt. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”
“Trying to get me to take my clothes off already?” Jackson replies with another devastatingly sexy wink. I get the sense I’m the only one to see him like this, which makes me feel special.
“No, I–”
Jackson scoops his hands into the dish water, gathering up a large amount of bubbles. I raise an eyebrow at him in challenge. My bodyguard gives me one last smirk before blowing on the mountain of bubbles. I squeal as the soap foam gets caught in my hair, the bubbles popping on my skin.
“Hey! At least mine was an accident,” I tease, putting my hands on my hips. “You, on the other hand–”
My breath catches in my throat as Jackson peels his wet shirt off, revealing his chiseled chest and perfect abs. I try not to count, but I’m only so strong. As I suspected, he has a freaking eight-pack.
My feet move on their own, carrying me closer to the shirtless, sexy-as-hell bodyguard in charge of my protection.
I stop a few inches from his massive chest, my eyes following a droplet of water as it slides down his torso.
I can’t stop the intrusive thought of touching him, and before I can get myself under control, I brush my fingertips over the contours of his chest and abs.
Jackson tilts his head back and closes his eyes, a pained sound rising up from the pit of his stomach. This snaps me out of my delusion, and I yank my hand back, absolutely mortified at the line I crossed.
“I’m so sorry,” I rush to say. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Never apologize for touching me, Sage,” he grits out. His words say one thing, but his tone is still teetering on the edge of anger.
When he opens his eyes, they lock onto mine, letting me see the desire and lust swirling in their depths. I realize Jackson isn’t angry; he’s holding himself back. It’s almost too ridiculous to believe, but I’m standing right here, looking at the evidence myself.
He loops his fingers around my wrist and lifts my hand to his chest. I press it against his warm flesh, fascinated by the way it makes his heart beat faster against my palm.
Jackson inhales sharply, then cups my face in both his hands.
He rests his forehead on mine and breathes in this moment.
My fingers curl into his skin, needing more of him.
Jackson responds to my silent plea by ghosting his nose and lips over the shell of my ear.
“Do you need something from me, baby girl?”
Oh, God, I didn’t know I’d like having a pet name, but when it’s coming from Jackson’s lips… I don’t mind. I nod, biting my bottom lip. Is this really happening?
“Need your words, Sage. I won’t do anything you’re not ready for.”
“I… I think I want…”
His hands slide down my neck and outline my curves before resting on my hips.
Jackson pulls me against his body, then leans down and presses teasing kisses up and down my neck.
“What do you want, Sage?” He’s nearly trembling as he waits for my response.
Am I really the reason he’s all worked up?
What could he possibly find irresistible about me?
“I think I’d like you to kiss me,” I murmur.
Jackson squeezes my hips and licks a sensitive spot beneath my ear. “I think I’d like you to tell me what you want more often,” he purrs while tightening his hold on me.
One last look into those hazel eyes, and I know I’m in trouble.