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for him to realize that the headache had receded to its normal, dull, postconcussion throb.
    The woman moved closer. “Jack, are you awake?”
    Kendall. Okay, he hadn’t died and gone to a cabin in heaven. That was good, or at least he thought it was. If you had asked him before he lay down, he probably would have had another answer. “Yeah, I’m awake.” He rolled to a sitting position and waited for the vestiges of sleep to dissipate. “Something smells wonderful. Thanksfor cooking.” He got to his feet and remembered what he was wearing—or wasn’t: namely pants and a shirt.
    Kendall’s shocked intake of breath told him she’d noticed his state of undress before he did. And if she kept staring at him like that, his boxer briefs weren’t going to be able to hide his natural reaction. His head might not be in top working order, but the same couldn’t be said for his body. Oh yeah, his body’s reactions were completely normal, if not a bit embarrassing. He turned his back to her and reached for his jeans, looking over his shoulder.
    She stared wide-eyed.
    “Just let me get dressed. I’ll be out in a minute.”
    That got her moving. She backed up until she hit the wall on the other side of the hallway. “Right. I’m sorry. Take your time. I’ll . . . I’ll just wait outside.”
    He turned his head before he smiled. Well, he supposed it was nice that Kendall seemed to like what she saw. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman looked at him like that, but, then, he wondered if he’d simply stopped noticing.
    Dating had always been complicated for him. No matter how nice the woman seemed, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was him she was interested in or his bank balance and social stature. He’d been unpleasantly surprised so many times, it hardly seemed worth the time and effort to start a relationship. He’d never been at a loss for a date to whatever function he’d needed to attend, but he knew how much time it took to make a relationship work, and time had been the one thing of which he didn’t have an unlimited supply. Until now. Now he had nothing but time.
    Jax dragged on a sweatshirt, buttoned his jeans, and ran a hand through his hair. He supposed he was aspresentable as he’d get. He found Kendall serving up a steaming casserole. “That looks and smells amazing.”
    Kendall’s eyes shifted to him, her cheeks pink, either from the steam coming off the casserole or embarrassment at the compliment. “It’s just shepherd’s pie—nothing gourmet.”
    “Give me good home cooking over gourmet any day. I haven’t eaten anything that smells this good in a very long time.” Probably since her mother had cooked for him before the accident. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
    He scooped up a forkful and groaned as the combination of flavors hit his taste buds. Onions, carrots, peas, corn, and beef in a savory gravy spiced with rosemary and thyme. He smiled, because it was something he could do with his mouth full.
    “There’s wine, if you can have it. I wasn’t sure if you’re on any medication. . . .” She let that thought trail off.
    He looked up at her, then chewed and swallowed. “Wine is good. Would you like me to open a bottle?”
    “No, I’ve had one breathing—I used a little in the shepherd’s pie, knowing the alcohol would cook out. I just wasn’t sure—”
    He took a last, longing look at his plate and pushed away from the table. “I’ll get it. I don’t know if there are wineglasses—”
    “In the cabinet to the right of the sink. Top shelf.”
    He strode into the kitchen, surprised to find it not only clean, but sparkling—something it hadn’t been before he conked out. If he’d been the one cooking, the place would have looked like a bomb had exploded in it. Here, everything she’d used was already washed, dried, and put away. The wine bottle sat, breathing, on the counter. A good wine—he recognized the name. Hetried to read the numbers, knowing they would