Polished by Alyssa Turner Page A

disappointment. Thankfully she’d have many more nights to show Spencer how much she loved him.
     
    * * *
     
     
    The morning greeted Rory closer to afternoon. Spencer was still sleeping when she tossed her feet to the carpet and stretched. He stirred and shifted slightly away from the sunlight pouring into the room. She watched him a moment, his bare chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm. He’d had a fitful night, waking twice with breathless murmuring. She’d let him sleep now, leaning back and kissing him ever so lightly on the cheek before getting up. She pulled on some yoga pants to add to the tank top she’d slept in and padded into the hall toward the bathroom.
    Pancakes. The aroma wafted through the air, and she detoured from the bathroom to follow the scent. Passing her study she couldn’t help but peek in, finding the futon converted back into a sofa and the gang of books she’d left scattered about neatly stacked on the end table. Conspicuously placed on top, she saw her dog-eared copy of Anaïs Nin’s famous book of erotica. The fire came to her cheeks faster than the heat trickled down between her legs. She froze in the doorway and blinked, trying to let reason wash away her embarrassment. Who cared if Jack knew she read erotica? It was for research…mostly. Chest forward, shoulders back, she got her legs in gear and continued toward the delicious aroma.
    “I know washing my own clothes is out of the question, but you gotta let me make you two breakfast.” Jack flipped a pancake with his good arm and tossed her an easy grin. He was still wearing Spencer’s pajama bottoms and still gloriously bare-chested. A quick glance confirmed he was barefoot as well. The low sling of his waistband hinted at further bareness underneath the only visible article of clothing. She swallowed the sudden saliva that filled her mouth. As good as he looked, it was still odd to see him in Spencer’s pajamas. He seemed as comfortable in them as he was in her kitchen.
    “Well, you beat me to it. So I guess it’s OK.” Rory smiled back at him and opened the cupboard next to the fridge in pursuit of the coffee. She did what she could not to brush up against him, but in the small kitchen her generous curves made it a bit of a challenge. He turned toward her, reaching for the milk and she scooted back abruptly as he nearly groped her breast instead. He was instantly red, and Rory was instantly amused.
    “This was never a kitchen made for two,” Rory said, handing him the milk with an empathetic grin. She hoped to smooth over his embarrassment, though the suddenly boyish quality to his face had caught her attention. “I’ll just be over here if you need to find something.” She waved a finger at the stool on the other side of the breakfast bar and scooted by.
    “Spencer still asleep?” Jack asked, scooping her finely ground Sumatra coffee into the coffee press tucked next to the sugar canister. He then swiped the teakettle off the stove and filled it with water.
    “Still knocked out. I didn’t have the heart to wake him. He probably needs the rest.”
    “After I finish this, I can take a cab back into the city.”
    Rory frowned. “A cab? Why, are you in a rush?”
    “To get back to the city? Not at all. It’s beautiful up here.”
    “Then hang out a while. Spencer will be up soon enough, and we’ll give you a lift back.”
    “You don’t have to do that.”
    “Are we going to start this again?”
    He shook his head and chuckled. “No way. I’m no fool.”
    Rory acknowledged her victory with a firm nod and a warm smile. “Well, OK then.”
    “OK then,” he repeated. Gesturing to the bowls on the counter, he continued, “Banana and walnuts, or blueberries?”
    “Really? Special toppings?”
    He flashed her a prize-winning smile. “I know my way around in the kitchen. Don’t worry.”
    “How will you chop walnuts with one arm?” She stretched over the counter and grabbed the bag. The eyeful down