However, if Jackson got even an inkling of what the shifts were doing to her worn-out ankles, he’d move her to part-time or, worse yet, start her maternity leave now.
Nope. She’d just suck it up. Maybe take a relaxing stroll around the lake about half a mile from his house. Jackson was a lucky man. Although his house was only ten minutes from town, he still lived in seclusion in the foothills. He had his own stream, she didn’t know how many acres of lush green lawns, and healthy, full trees. To her, it was paradise.
When she turned the corner into the kitchen, she and Jackson exchanged greetings, and she immediately honed in on what mattered.
“Something smells mouthwatering,” she said. She walked right up to the stove and found crispy bacon sitting on a napkin-covered plate. When Jackson’s back was turned, she swiped two pieces, gulped one down, and handed the other to Poppy, who was right on her heels.
“I saw that,” Jackson said with a chuckle, though he hadn’t turned away from the sink, where he was rinsing a bowl.
“What?” She did her best to inject innocence into her tone, but her mouth was full and she punctuated her question by licking her lips.
Jackson finally turned to face her. “Not only are you sneaking into breakfast early, but it also appears that you’ve stolen my dog.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sat down at the table, and Poppy stretched out at her feet. The shrewd dog knew Alyssa would sneak her more treats.
“Of course you don’t,” he said with a chuckle. “Are you hungry?”
Was she ever not hungry during this pregnancy? That was the real question. Unwilling to seem too eager, however, she waited a moment before replying.
“I could eat. Smells good.” She was trying to sound bored, but since she was practically drooling, she suspected her act wasn’t entirely convincing. “Do you need any help, Jackson?”
“Nope. It’s all ready. Want me to dish you up a plate?”
“I’ll get it,” she said quickly. Though she didn’t mind being coddled on occasion, what ended up on her plate was too serious a matter to leave to a mere man. “Why do you do so much cooking anyway, Jackson?”
He paused while he set the platters of food on the counter. “I don’t know. I guess I just always enjoyed it. We had a cook at Dad’s house, and I discovered early that if I wanted fresh-baked cookies and bread, the cook would give me whatever I wanted if I helped her out. I just sort of began loving to cook.”
As Jackson spoke, Alyssa looked at the mounds of food on the counter and said hello to five more pounds. He’d made bacon, eggs, French toast, and biscuits, and he was now placing fruit, butter, syrup, and jams on the table. Just looking at all that made her feel fatter.
What to do, what to do? Unable to decide, Alyssa took a little of everything and brought an overflowing plate back to the dining table. Even before her modeling days, with those constant breakfasts of a few berries and a skinny latte, she’d never begun the day with such decadence.
Waiting just about killed her, but she didn’t touch a single bite until Jackson joined her and shifted a piece of bacon off the table and straight into Poppy’s mouth. Only then did she pick up a piece of her own and begin nibbling on it.
“Good?” he asked.
“Fantastic. I wish I could cook as well as you. Maybe you can give me a few lessons.”
“The best compliment to the cook is a hearty appetite,” Jackson said. “And I think cooking lessons could be quite fun.” The way he said it had her heart racing again. Then he put two over-easy eggs on top of his French toast and doused it all in syrup.
She looked at him in horror as he scooped up a big bite. “That’s disgusting.”
“What?” He looked genuinely confused.
“You’re mixing egg yolk with syrup. Gah.”
“Your scrambled eggs touch your syrup. What’s the difference?” He went ahead and took another bite.
“There’s a big difference. My eggs are cooked all the way through. And I don’t dip them in the syrup. Or pour syrup over them. Some might just run off the French toast and hit the corner of my eggs, but that’s incidental.”
She did, however, love dipping her bacon in syrup. Yum.
“To each his own,” he said, scarfing down two pieces of French toast in no time flat.
She threw him a dubious glance. “I guess so,” she replied. But why quibble? It kept her from eating. The biscuits were buttery and flaky, just the way she liked them, and by the time she was finished, she knew she’d need that walk for sure.
“Do you have plans for today?” Jackson asked her as he sat back, his plate empty and a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.
She looked at it and sighed. She’d kill for a hot mocha right now, but she was doing her best to listen to her doctor and he’d said no caffeine.
When Alyssa didn’t reply—she was clearly caught up in java lust—he continued. “I wanted to spend some time together, Alyssa.”
“Doing what?”
“It’s a family tradition, but trust me, you’ll love it.”
His eyes were glowing with excitement, and she found that she did trust him . . . well, as much as she trusted any man. Which wasn’t a whole heck of a lot lately.
“I wanted to take a walk, Jackson.” Going somewhere civilized with him seemed more pleasant than hiking through the foothills, but she needed to burn off her two-thousand-calorie breakfast.
“You’ll get in plenty of walking where we’re going,” he assured her.
“I don’t like surprises.”
“Liar. I know you love them. I’m on good terms with your parents now, you know. They’ve filled me in.”
“You shouldn’t be speaking to my parents,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “We aren’t a couple, Jackson, just because I’m staying here. I know that sounds ungrateful, and I’m sorry, but I think talking to my parents about me crosses a line.” What were they talking to him about? She hoped that her mother and father weren’t giving Jackson any ammo to use against her. And she really hoped that her mother wasn’t giving him clues about the parentage of the baby. She still hadn’t made her decision about how to tell him.
“I think your parents are great. Besides, your dad is killing it as foreman at the oil fields,” Jackson said. “Anyway, since this is a small town, we all act quite neighborly. I can most certainly be friends with your parents.”