She stopped in front of the king-size bed. She lowered the pages that she’d been clutching to her chest. The pages still had her corrections on them, but they were clean enough for Jackson to read.
Her gaze moved to the title page. Letting Jackson read this would be more revealing than making love to him—at least that was the way it felt in that moment. They weren’t just words on a page, they were an intimate piece of her. Her empty stomach roiled. She swallowed hard.
Without giving it any further thought, she placed the manuscript at the end of the bed. Then she turned and headed for the door as fast as her legs would carry her. She knew that if she didn’t leave quickly she would chicken out and take back the pages.
Just then a set of headlights streamed in through the windows. Jackson was home. She smiled and Gizmo ran to the door barking.
“It looks like I’m not the only one anxious to see Jackson, huh, boy?”
Gizmo turned to her and wagged his tail before he turned back to the door to continue barking.
Serena glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. She would have to let the little furbaby get the first greeting. She was needed in the kitchen. She’d prepared dinner to the best of her ability and it was just about to come out of the oven.
* * *
Time to get it over with.
Jackson had played out this scene in his mind more times than he cared to admit. None of it ended well. But he couldn’t put it off any longer.
He opened the door, not sure what to expect. Gizmo jumped up on him with his tail swishing back and forth. Jackson had him get down so that he could step inside and close the door.
Then Jackson bent over to pet Gizmo’s fuzzy head. “Hey, boy, I’m happy to see you, too.”
Maybe he should reconsider getting a dog. It was really nice to come home to somebody. But it was Serena that he wanted to see. Where was she?
He’d been thinking of what to say to her all day, to the point where he’d been distracted during taping. It’d made for a very long day with many retakes. And he’d ended up frustrating his crew. He’d apologized and blamed it on his ankle. He wasn’t ready to tell anyone about Serena. They’d make more of the situation than he wanted.
He’d just shrugged off his coat and hung it near the door to dry when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and there was Serena looking all down-to-earth in faded jeans, a red sweater and her hair pulled up in a ponytail.
There was something different about her. It took him a moment and then he realized that she’d changed her hair back to its former blond color—at least close to it.
“You changed your hair?”
She smiled and nodded. “I thought it was time that I got back to being me.”
He didn’t know what that meant. Did it have something to do with her creeping out of his bed during the night? Was she sending him some sort of message? If so, he wasn’t sure he understood.
“It looks nice.” That was not what he’d planned to say, but he was caught off guard.
“And you are just in time.”
“For what?”
“Dinner. I cooked again.”
“Oh. Okay.” Why was she acting all nice? He thought she would be angry at him for rushing things last night. Instead, she was cooking for him. What had he missed?
“Don’t look so worried. It came out of a box and I followed the directions.” She sent him a puzzled look as though she didn’t understand why he was acting strange. “I set the table in the kitchen, but we can eat in here if you’d prefer.”
“Serena, stop it.”
Her eyes widened. “Stop
what?”
“Acting all nice. Like nothing happened.”
“Oh. You mean last night.”