by K. C. Wells
Brady suddenly saw the light. “You want me… to go to your parents’ place for dinner this evening, don’t you? But what good will that do? You said your sister is bringing a coworker—that’s all I’d be, right?” Then he stilled. “Wait a minute. You don’t want to take me as a colleague, do you?”
Jordan held up his hands. “Nothing heavy, I swear. I’d maybe hold your hand at the table, give you a few lingering glances….”
“And you don’t foresee problems with this… subterfuge? Such as, your mom thinking you’re dating me?” Not that Brady had any objections to such a plan.
Jordan shrugged. “It’s not like I’m about to tell her we’re engaged, right? You’d just be my current boyfriend. And besides….” He grinned. “I’m trying to picture her expression when I turn up with you.” He tilted his head to one side. “I held your hand at dinner last night and it didn’t seem to freak you out. Granted, those were different circumstances, but it’s just for one evening. You’d be buying me some breathing space, that’s all.” He smiled. “Think of it as practice for the Hamptons.”
Brady was severely torn. On the one hand, the idea of cozying up with Jordan for an evening was very pleasant, even if it was only make-believe. But on the other, having him so close, living out Brady’s fantasy….
Then he gave himself a swift mental kick. More time spent with Jordan? Being close to him?
Like he’d turn that down.
“Luckily for you, my social calendar is empty this evening.” Brady gave a slow nod. “Okay. I’ll do it. Let me know what time you want me to be ready, and give me an idea of what to wear.”
Jordan smiled. “Could you organize a car to pick me up at three thirty, and then we’ll come get you? And wear whatever you feel comfortable in.” He stroked his chin. “My mom mentioned spending the night there, but I think it would cause fewer problems if we didn’t. We’ll take a taxi back to the city.”
“Fine.” Brady considered Jordan’s clothing suggestion. “As for wearing what’s comfortable, I know where your mom lives, remember? I sent her flowers? Somehow I don’t think my favorite jeans and a tee would go down so well in Westchester. Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you.”
Jordan’s frank gaze sent shivers down his spine. “I never thought you would.” He glanced at the phone on Brady’s desk. “You’d better call the car service ASAP. Then we’ll get out of here.” He flashed Brady a grin. “We have to get ready for this evening, and we don’t have all that long.” Jordan left Brady to make the call.
Once he was out of sight, Brady leaned against his desk.
What am I getting myself into?
Chapter Ten
THE sight of the house was enough to send ribbons of panic fluttering through Brady’s belly. “Wow. This is beautiful.” And big. Don’t forget big. Brady’s entire apartment could probably fit into it at least six times over. The long, imposing path that led to the equally imposing front door made his heart quake. This is stupid. His mother is going to see right through this whole scheme.
“Relax,” Jordan said quietly. “It’s just dinner. She doesn’t eat guests.” He leaned in closer. “Okay, so she may nibble them around the edges a little.”
“Not helping,” Brady gritted out. The ride over there had been bad enough. He’d tried his hardest not to think about the approaching inquisition, but his mind had refused to cooperate. Still, it was too late to back out now, not when the door was already opening and—
Jordan reached down and clasped his hand, and warmth surged through him. That’s nice.
Brady took a deep breath and pasted on a smile.
The woman who opened the door was unquestionably Jordan’s sister. They shared the same dark complexion, the same large, dark eyes. Her gaze flickered down to their joined hands.
She blinked and jerked her head up to stare at Brady before straightening and smiling at Jordan. “Hey. You didn’t tell us you were bringing a guest.”
Jordan grinned. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” He stepped past her into the hallway, pulling Brady with him.
“Oh, it’s definitely that,” she muttered under her breath. Once the door was closed, she turned to Brady. “Hi. I’m Fiona, Jordan’s sister.”
“Brady Donovan.”
Her eyes widened, and she gaped at Jordan. “Your personal assistant? I know I said don’t lose him, but Jesus, Jordan—dating him? Don’t you think that’s a little… extreme?”
Jordan smirked. “You know, ‘pleased to meet you, Brady’ would have been perfectly adequate in the circumstances.”
Brady was still a little shell-shocked by her reaction. Fortunately, Fiona appeared to have recovered her manners. She held out her hand. “I’m glad to meet you, Brady. Jordan has spoken very highly of you.”
Brady blinked. “He has?”
Fiona smiled. “Well, to be honest, I sort of got the impression he couldn’t run that company without you. It must be true, then. Behind every great man is a great….” She bit her lip.
“Man,” Jordan suggested with a wicked smile. “And when you’ve let go of his hand, maybe we should introduce him to Mom?”
Fiona released Brady’s hand quickly. “She’s in the conservatory. It’s orchid-misting time.” She led them along the hallway, with Brady trying his best not to be overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place. Warm oak floorboards complemented gleaming white woodwork and pale cream walls, accentuated by watercolors here and there.
The conservatory was a large space with walls of glass that looked out over a stunning garden. Every windowsill contained pots of the most beautiful orchids Brady had ever seen. Large fleshy pink petals, next to more delicate, almost translucent flowers, their dark green leaves glossy and healthy.
Jordan’s mother was tall, her silver-gray hair done in an intricate knot at the back. She was talking to a man dressed in a navy suit, who was nodding as she spoke. He glanced up as they approached, and for a moment Brady felt decidedly shabby in comparison, in his black pants, pale blue shirt, dark blue bow tie, and black woolen cardigan. Jordan had assured him that he was perfectly dressed for the occasion, but still….
Jordan’s mother frowned, the lines marring her smooth brow, but then she straightened her features. “Jordan? You should have told me you were also bringing a guest.” She lowered her gaze to where Jordan took hold of Brady’s hand, curling his fingers around it. A slow smile blossomed. She put down her water bottle, walked over to them, and extended a hand to Brady. “Hello. I’m Lynne Wolf, Jordan’s mother. And you are…?”
“Brady Donovan, ma’am.” He took her cool hand in his, noting that Jordan didn’t relinquish his hold. “I work with Jordan.”
From behind them, Fiona snickered. “He’s the one you should thank for the beautiful flowers for your birthday, Mom.”
Jordan growled low. “Thanks, Fi.”
She chuckled. “Anytime, bro.”
Lynne ignored them both. “Thank you for joining us, Brady. I wish I could say Jordan’s spoken of you, but—”
“But seeing as this is a very recent development,” Jordan interjected, “that’s understandable.” Then Brady’s heart skipped a beat when Jordan leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “You’re meeting him now, though.” Jordan straightened and glanced over at the man in the suit. “You must be Corbin. Hi.”
Corbin gave him a quick nod. “Hey.” His gaze flicked from Lynne to Fiona, then back to Jordan. “Sorry, dude. This is a little… awkward.”
Fiona cleared her throat. “How about I fix us all a cocktail? Dinner won’t be for an hour or so. Dad’s in his den. I’ll go bang on his door.”
“Cocktails. Delightful idea. Jordan, why don’t you take Corbin and Brady through into the drawing room? I’ll be with you when I’ve finished in here.”
Jordan nodded, then led them out of the conservatory.
Brady liked the drawing room instantly. It was a nice size, with three sofas arranged in a U shape around a fireplace. In one corner of th
e room was a drinks cabinet, and to the left, french windows opened out onto the garden.
Corbin sat on the sofa nearest the drinks cabinet, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “Okay, while we have a moment to ourselves….” He gave Jordan an apologetic glance. “Your sister persuaded me to come along, but I had no idea you were already attached. Judging by their reactions, neither did she or your mom. So in the circumstances, maybe I should go?”
Jordan shook his head. “Nonsense. One, you’ll miss out on a good dinner, and two, you have no reason whatsoever to feel awkward. No one asked them to do this, okay? If anyone should be feeling awkward, it’s them.”
Brady had to say something. “Listen, if anyone should leave, it’s me. I’m the unexpected guest, after all.” When Jordan stared at him, obviously unhappy, Brady gave him a reassuring smile. “Relax. I’m not leaving either.” He snickered. “You never mentioned that your sister is a brat.” It was a bold move, but hell, he was there as Jordan’s boyfriend.
Gotta keep in character, right?
Corbin smothered a snicker. “What gave it away?” He grinned. “I get to say that—I’m her supervisor. And after this, she is going to owe me, big-time.” He gave Brady a warm smile. “Again, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to tread on anybody’s toes. From the look of things, you got the best sibling.”
Brady glanced across at Jordan and smiled. “I did, didn’t I?” Jordan’s brief, startled blink was adorable, but Brady had to remind himself not to bury himself in the part.
Fiona bustled into the room. “This looks cozy. What would you all like to drink?”
“She makes a mean margarita,” Jordan said with a smile. Brady liked that he was being pleasant to his sister, brat or not. Then Jordan’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “So… you brought your boss, huh?”
Fiona glared at Corbin. “Thanks for that.”
Corbin gazed back at her, keeping his face straight.
Brady had a feeling Jordan was correct—it was going to be a very entertaining evening.
“DINNER was great.” Jordan relaxed against the seat cushions with Brady next to him.
“I’m sorry about the barbecue idea.” Dad peered toward the french windows. “Your mother is right, however. I think we’re in for a downpour.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? We have room for all of you.”
“Thanks, Mom, but that won’t be necessary.” Jordan didn’t want to put Brady in an awkward situation. He’d been wonderful so far, playing the part to perfection.
After dinner, Fiona had taken Jordan aside and apologized for the scheme. Then she’d chastised him for not telling them all about Brady.
“He’s awesome,” she exclaimed. “He’s funny, intelligent, and he obviously adores you. And if I’d known about him, I wouldn’t have twisted Corbin’s arm into coming here tonight.”
Jordan had his own theory about that. He’d caught several glances in Fiona’s direction when Corbin clearly thought no one was looking. “Are you sure he’s gay?”
Fiona stilled for a moment. “As a matter of fact, he’s not—he’s bi. The only other gay guy in the office is married. Corbin was sort of a last-minute idea.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Fiona stared at him. “What?”
Jordan smiled. “Nothing.”
Brady tugged on his arm, pulling him back into the present. “Earth to Jordan. Your dad just asked if you wanted more coffee.”
Jordan shook his head. “I’m fine.” He watched as Brady chatted with his parents, relaxed and content. Fiona’s words still rang in his head, however.
He obviously adores you.
If Jordan hadn’t known better, he’d have said her assumption was correct. Brady looked for all the world like he belonged at Jordan’s side. He’d known a ton of guys who’d been less attentive in the short span of their relationships than Brady had been all evening.
A rumble of thunder broke the peaceful setting, and when lightning jagged across the sky, illuminating the trees, his mom shivered. “Jordan, you can’t travel in this weather. Please, reconsider. I’ve already made up the bed in the room that used to be yours.”
Brady gave him a startled glance, and Jordan knew exactly what had just gone through his mind. “Er, Mom, that’s really kind of you, but….” Brady hadn’t signed up to share a bed for the night, and there was no way Jordan was about to put him on the spot.
Thankfully his mother was quick on the uptake. “Brady can have the room next to yours, if that’s okay.”
There was no mistaking the relief in Brady’s expression, and for one illogical moment, Jordan was dismayed. Well, I guess that makes it obvious how he really feels about me, if the prospect of sleeping in the same bed is so abhorrent. He had no clue why such a thought would send waves of disappointment through him.
“Is that all right with you?” Jordan asked.
Brady nodded. “I think she has a point. It’s getting really bad out there.” Right on cue, another rumble of thunder, this one much louder, rattled the windows, and he shivered, his eyes wide, edging closer to Jordan.
It took a moment for his actions to sink in. Brady—his wonderful, fearless assistant, capable and organized—was afraid of thunder and lightning.
Jordan reached for his hand and squeezed it. “We’re safe in here. And somehow I don’t think the house is about to get struck by lightning.”
Brady gave him a grateful smile. “Good to know.”
“Corbin, you’ll stay, won’t you?” his mom asked.
Corbin nodded, his eyes meeting Fiona’s for the briefest moment. Jordan chuckled to himself when the merest hint of a blush stole over her cheeks. Aha. Fi wasn’t as oblivious as he’d supposed.
The rest of the evening was a pleasant surprise. Dad got out board games that Jordan hadn’t seen for years: Clue, Headache, Trouble…. Jordan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a fun time. He, Brady, Fiona, and Corbin sat around the square coffee table, playing Clue, while their parents watched, Mom working on her cross-stitch and Dad reading. Outside, the storm worsened, and it was noticeable how Brady didn’t move from Jordan’s side. When the lights flickered and Dad made noises about going to check the generator, Brady held on tight to Jordan’s hand.
“I know it’s illogical,” Brady said quietly, “but I’ve always hated thunder and lightning, ever since I was a kid. Mom says I used to hide under my bed, clutching a blanket.”
Right then the power died, and gasps rang out from everyone.
“Don’t worry, the backup generator will kick in soon.” Mom sounded her usual calm self. “In the meantime, Fiona and I will go into the kitchen and find the candles, in case this continues. Jordan, you stay here with Brady. Corbin, could you go down to the basement and see if my husband needs any help getting the generator going? It can be a little temperamental.”
“Sure.”
When it was just him and Brady left alone in the drawing room, Jordan took his hand. “You doing okay?”
To his surprise Brady rested his head on Jordan’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine.” The ominous roll of a thunderclap pulled a gasp from him, and he shivered again.
Jordan couldn’t help his response. He put his arm around Brady and held him close. “It’s all right. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Brady turned his face up toward him, and for one brief, illogical moment, Jordan was overwhelmed by the urge to kiss that soft-looking mouth. Brady seemed to be holding his breath, his eyes locked on Jordan’s, the round disks of his glasses reflecting the lightning that lit up the sky beyond the window.
“Jordan,” he whispered.
“There, that’s better.” Mom came into the room, carrying a candelabra loaded with three candles. Fiona followed her with another.
Brady jumped as if burned and pulled away, and Jordan was once more beset with disappointment. Holding Brady had felt… good, but there was suddenly distance between them, and Jordan regretted the loss of intimacy.
The l
ights came on, and Mom beamed. “I knew they could get that old beast to work. Now perhaps he’ll listen to me when I say it’s time to get a new one.”
Brady wasn’t meeting Jordan’s gaze.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Fiona’s eyes twinkled. “I think there’s something to be said for candlelight. Very romantic, don’t you think, Jordan?” Her gaze flickered toward Brady.
“This calls for hot chocolate,” Mom said decisively. “Nothing like it when there’s a storm raging. Don’t you agree, Brady?”
He smiled. “Hot chocolate is always good, in my opinion.”
Jordan didn’t want to talk about hot chocolate. He wanted Brady back in his arms, just the two of them.
What the hell just happened?
BRADY stiffened as the bedroom door opened and Jordan entered. He was still ashamed of his behavior earlier, acting like some scared little wussy kid. What must he think of me? Brady couldn’t get over how it had felt to be held like he was something precious, and all he’d wanted was Jordan’s lips on his, to lose himself in the kiss he’d dreamed about for so long.
He still couldn’t decide whether Lynne’s entrance at that moment had been good timing, or the worst ever.
I wanted him. And what if I had kissed him? What then?
Such actions would have consequences.
“Do you have everything you need?” Jordan asked. “There are more blankets in the closet if you get cold in the night. And I’ll be right next door.”
“Does that mean I can climb into your bed and hide from the storm?” Brady kept his tone lighthearted. When Jordan blinked, he chuckled. “Yeah, like I’d do that.” Except he would, in a heartbeat. “Listen, I didn’t think you’d be okay with us sharing a bed, not under your parents’ roof and all.”
Jordan nodded. “My mom may act like she’s this liberal-minded, twenty-first century mother, but when it comes down to her son sleeping with this guy she’s only just heard about? I think even she might balk at that.”
