Hello hello! Chapter three is here! There's so much about this chapter that I'm excited for y'all to read, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Also, there's a reference in this to my outsider POV fic Assumptions. You get a cookie if you can spot it :)

Chapter Summary: Jay woke up in bed alone, but he found Hailey in their kitchen, making waffles and wearing his sweater. Includes kisses, strawberries, and whipped cream.

[Engaged Upstead, pre-9x04]

.: Breakfast Sweater :.

"Just a t-shirt in the kitchen, with no make-up and a million other things that I could look at my whole life. A love like that makes a man have second thoughts; maybe some things last forever after all." — Luke Combs, Forever After All

Jay drifted to consciousness slowly, his body warm and lazy. He was first aware of the sunlight blasting through the skylight and then his incessantly buzzing phone on the nightstand. It wasn't a hard decision to let the call ring out—it was his first day off in weeks; they could leave a message—and bury his face in his pillow instead.

He'd never been a drowsy person, especially after Afghanistan, but lately, he'd been reminded of what genuine rest felt like. Hailey slept cuddled up to him every night, and the gentle touch of her hands—even how her hair tickled his chin and her cold feet nudged his calves—soothed something deep in him. But thinking about this peace he'd found with Hailey still felt too big and unattainable. Too hard for him to put into words even though they were engaged.

With a sigh, Jay wondered if he could drift back off and laze away a few more hours in bed with Hailey. He reached for her then, like he did every morning she wasn't already in his arms, his eyes still closed. There was something about pulling her sleep-warm body into his that made his nerves settle. Something about the way she always grumbled at him for waking her but wrapped herself around him anyway that made his heart calm.

But his hands glided over empty, cold sheets this morning, and that had his attention immediately.

Jay propped himself up on his elbow and looked around. The bathroom door was open, but the light was off and the towel Hailey left on the floor last night was still there. Faint sounds drifted in from the other side of their closed bedroom door, and Jay blinked at the alarm clock on Hailey's nightstand—6:08 A.M.

In opposition to his restful nights, Hailey's insomnia had reared its ugly head with a vengeance these last few weeks. Her phone was still plugged in on her nightstand, though, so he knew she was still in the apartment, but that didn't mean she hadn't been awake for hours, buzzing with tired, frenetic energy.

Jay threw off his covers and lumbered to his feet, stretching and popping his stiff joints. He scrubbed a hand over his face and grabbed a pair of sweats off the floor, pulling them on before leaving the bedroom.

A few unpacked boxes were still stacked in the corner of the living room, and the bookshelf they'd attempted to put together last night still laid in pieces on the shaggy living room rug. The disassembled parts made him smile. For over an hour, they'd tried and failed to decipher the shelf's instructions before Jay couldn't handle how adorably frustrated Hailey had looked, and he'd pulled her in for a kiss, for more.

The sound of a cabinet door shutting grabbed his attention, and his smile widened at the sight of Hailey in their kitchen. He trailed his gaze over her, over her bare shoulder and the length of her legs, as he padded across the hardwood floor and leaned his forearms on the granite countertop. She hopped to reach something on a higher shelf, her loose, frizzy blonde hair flouncing and her sweater rising dangerously high on her bare thighs.

It was his sweater she wore—an old, ugly knitted sweater that he'd never actually worn. A white elephant gift from his first CPD Christmas party years ago. Jay had forgotten he'd even had the thing, but Hailey had found it buried in a dresser drawer when they'd packed up his apartment together.

He couldn't say he was upset that it hadn't made it to the donation pile now that he knew what Hailey looked like wearing it. His love of seeing Hailey in his clothes wasn't new, but Hailey in this sweater—with its loose, gaping stitches and unraveled yarn—was new, and every tantalizing glimpse of her skin through the fabric sent a jolt through him.

She hopped again, bracing a hand on the counter, but whatever she was reaching for was too far back in the cabinet for her to grab.

"We're barely moved in," Jay said. Hailey whirled around, a flour-coated measuring cup in her hand, and he smiled. "How did things already get put where you can't reach?"

"Because I put it there." She grinned, dimple popping.

Jay rolled his eyes, but he knew the soft reciprocal smile on his face totally gave him away. "Morning," he greeted softly.

Hailey tugged the wide neckline of the sweater back over her shoulder, still smiling, and busied herself pouring a cup of coffee. When she slid the steaming mug to him across the counter, she rubbed his forearm in greeting. "Morning."

He grabbed hold of her hand before she could pull away and fiddled with her fingers while he took a drink of his coffee. Her hair wisped around her face, and his heart beat a bit quicker when she slowly pushed some of it behind her ear. There were dark circles under her ocean eyes that worried him, but her smile was genuine and tender.

"What're you making?" he asked quietly.

"Waffles." She grinned and spun back to the other counter with an adorable little bounce. The granite was covered in flour and mixing bowls, and Hailey's prized waffle-maker was plugged in next to the stovetop. She splashed some milk into one of the bowls, her measuring cup forgotten, and started stirring.

Jay settled into one of their padded bar stools and took another sip of his coffee. He leaned back, holding his mug to his chest, and decided he could sit there and watch her move around their kitchen for the rest of his life. The gentle domesticity of the morning made Jay's chest warm, and he couldn't help his smile when Hailey pushed to her tiptoes and clicked her tongue as she poured batter into the waffle-iron.

He drained the rest of his coffee and was walking up to her before he could process his own movements. When he slid his hands around her waist, she melted into his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I love waffles," he murmured. I love you. He kissed her neck and breathed her in with a quiet hum.

"I know." She giggled, and he kissed the other side of her neck, too, pulling her away from the counter as he did so. She protested with another laugh, still holding on to the handle of the waffle-maker. "Jay, it's gonna burn!"

He just pulled her even closer, pressing his stubbly cheek to her temple. She relinquished her hold on the handle to lightly scratch her nails up his forearm that was banded around her waist. He ran his hands down her sides, fingers getting caught in the sweater's loose stitches, before slipping under the hem and trailing his hands back up. He gripped her hips, relishing in the satin-softness of her skin, and spun her in one smooth motion.

She grinned up at him with glittering eyes as he backed her into the counter and easily hoisted her onto it. Jay went willingly when she pulled him into the cradle of her thighs. Her fingers were like little firebrands on his bare skin as she slowly slid her hands from his abdomen to his chest and up over his shoulders. Like always, her touch had him gripping her a little more firmly, and desperation welled in him when he finally pressed his lips to hers.

With a soft moan, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, and he grinned into the kiss when she nearly lifted herself from the counter in her eagerness.

"It'll burn," she repeated, whispering and breathless. But she made no move to pull away, just smiled against his lips and scratched her fingers through his short hair. He kissed her harder, deeper, and when the timer for the waffle-maker beeped, he peppered light kisses across her cheeks until she was laughing and shoving him towards the stovetop.

His heart was pitter-pattering in his chest as he plucked the golden-brown waffle from the iron with a fork and poured some batter to make a second one. And with a grin, he grabbed the maple syrup from the shelf Hailey couldn't reach.

"You taste like coffee," she said, grabbing a bowl of freshly cut-up strawberries and popping one in her mouth. A pretty flush rested high on her cheekbones, and the way her chest was heaving was great for his ego. "And morning breath."

"Oh, sexy," he quipped with a snort. He licked some batter off his thumb and closed the waffle-iron.

"Mmhm, very." She smirked, swinging her legs against the cabinets as she ate another strawberry. She held one out for him, and he plucked it from her fingers with his teeth before stepping back between her thighs.

"What do you wanna do today?" he asked, smoothing his palms up and down her bare legs.

She ate another strawberry, and her eyes brightened when his stare lingered on her mouth, on the way she slowly sucked some excess sugar off her thumb.

"Well, that depends."

"On?"

"On whether you're gonna let me put strawberries and whipped cream on your waffle."

Jay snorted and accepted another strawberry she held out for him. "So you're trying to put me in a sugar coma?"

"It's not like maple syrup is any less sweet," she argued with a raised brow. "And strawberries are good for you."

"Not with how much sugar you dump on 'em, they're not."

"Does that mean you don't want another one?" She grinned and quirked her brow as she held out another strawberry. He accepted it, of course, and this time he licked the sugar from her finger himself, eyes on hers the whole time.

"I always want more," he said.

She blushed beautifully but rolled her eyes. "You're so corny sometimes."

He grabbed the bowl of strawberries from her hands and set it aside, then pulled her to the edge of the counter. "You love me anyway."

"Yeah, I do," she sighed, tightening her legs around his waist and grabbing hold of his biceps.

Their next kiss was slow, soft, and it spread fire through his veins as though she'd lit a match. Pulling away from her to grab the second waffle from the iron was something akin to torture, but seeing her happiness as she piled whipped cream and strawberries on his waffle almost made up for it.

Thank you for reading!