Jack leans in the doorway like he owns the place.

Jacket off. Tie loosened. That look on his face the one that says he’s already three steps ahead of you.

And in his hand?

A banana.

He turns it slowly between his fingers, eyes never leaving yours.

“You know,” he says, voice low, amused, “you’ve made such a big deal about these.”

He steps closer. One pace. Then another. Close enough now that you can feel his warmth.

“Can’t help but wonder,” he adds, peeling it just enough to make his point, “if you’re curious… or just pretending you’re not.”

A beat. A smile that’s all trouble.

Jack takes a bite unhurried watching your reaction like it’s the only evidence he needs.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I’m off the clock.”

His free hand finds the counter beside you, boxing you in without touching. Not yet.

“But if you keep looking at me like that,” he continues softly, “I might have to start believing you want more than a snack.”

He lowers his voice, close to your ear now.

“Careful,” he warns gently. “You keep teasing a detective like this… and I’m gonna follow the lead.”

The banana is forgotten somewhere behind him.

Jack’s attention?

Very much not.