At first, Jameson couldn’t understand what had made him drive to Chili’s. He’d been thinking about Prandi on the way there, but his thoughts of her kept fighting – and losing – with the physical sensation of Becca holding on tight to this waist.

“I know we were here last night. We can go somewhere else if you like,” he said sheepishly.

“That’s OK, I’m starving. I didn’t get to eat breakfast,” she said, opening her coat so he could see she was still wearing her pj’s, sweats and a tank top, sans bra. Jameson stared, his blue eyes popping. “I know I must look disgusting” she said, quickly closing her coat again as a warm tide of red crested over her cheeks.

“No, you don’t. You look great,” Jameson said, privately thinking Becca looked anything but disgusting.

On a sudden impulse, Becca threw her arms around Jameson. “I’m so glad you came to see me.”

Jameson hugged her back hesitantly, unaware that someone else was privy to their moment, the last person he expected to see in this Chili’s parking lot.