So Wright (The Wrights 1)

Jack. She was in Jack’s hotel room. And she’d been wrong. It hadn’t been a decade ago since she’d actually slept with a man. It had been only three days.

Her stomach unlocked, her chest relaxed, the air pent up in her lungs released. She used the bed to push herself up. She felt dazed and exhausted, but in a good way. A really good way.

Jack’s lids were heavy, his expression relaxed and happy. “Hey, beautiful.”

Miranda’s heart squeezed. Butterflies invaded her stomach. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Maybe twenty minutes.”

She took in their situation. “Why are you still dressed?”

He grinned. “We got busy with more important things.”

Miranda groaned and eased back into position against his chest, head on his shoulder. “Well, stay dressed.” She snuggled her face against his neck and kissed him there. “You’ll have to get the door for room service.”

“Great minds. I’m starving.”

Miranda reached for a menu on the bedside table, then slid off Jack to lie half-on, half-off him, opened the menu, and held it so they could both read. “What’s good?”

“It’s all hotel food, but the burgers aren’t bad.”

“That would take too much effort. Like, I’d have to sit up.”

Jack laughed and picked up a strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger.

“The cheese-and-fruit plate could work,” she said. “I could eat both of those without moving.”

He turned the page to a wine list. “Do you want wine with your cheese?”

Laughter bubbled up from nowhere. He looked at her, his expression curious.

“You’re really clueless about how mismatched we are, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” His brow dropped with a mock frown. “Aren’t you the same woman who was right here, in my bed, an hour ago? ’Cause you look a lot like her, and damn, we synced right up.”

“Even if I knew anything about pairing wine with food, which I don’t, I don’t drink. So, water is fine. Sparkling if they have it.”

One golden brow shot up. “You work at a bar, but you don’t drink?”

“Club soda and lime is my drink of choice.”

Jack reached over, picked up the phone, hit a button, and placed the order. After he hung up, they continued to lie together, quiet. She loved the way he touched her. Fingers in her hair, hand sliding up and down her spine.

“Tell me about you.” His voice was soft and easy, but the topic created tension in Miranda’s gut.

She hummed and slid a finger along his jaw. “But then you’d lose all those sparkles in your eyes when you look at me. That would be such a shame.”

He rolled to his side and propped one hand under his head, facing her. “Try me.”

This was the beginning of the end. She could feel it. “I’m the opposite of you in every way.”

“How?”

“I’m not close with my family. I’ve never traveled outside Tennessee. I live paycheck to paycheck.”

He threaded his fingers with hers. “Did you grow up here?”

“Born and raised in the worst parts of Memphis. Moved here when I was a teenager.”