Chapter Four
Jordan
Jordan and her friend, Ayana, studied the outfits laid out on the bed. Ayana rubbed her chin in deep concentration, her bedecked wrist of bangles jingling merrily. “The pink and white skirt, for sure,” she said, pointing to the garment.
“Okay, but that leaves me with the fuchsia shell, the mint sweater, or the ivory lace tunic. Or this blouse. I really like this blouse.” Jordan held a soft pink eyelet and ribbon trimmed blouse up to her chest, smoothing it.
Ayana wrinkled her nose. “Too much pink. So tell me again why you’re meeting him there? Why isn’t he picking you up for this date?”
Darn good question. “Derek said it was easier to meet.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, knowing the excuse sounded as lame now as it did when Derek told her. Ayana took the news with a sniff and shake of her head, which set her gold multi-hooped earrings to swinging. Originally Ayana had been Derek’s fan and even facilitated them getting together. Somehow in the last few months, she’d found more faults and less praise. “It was sweet of him to get those reservations at The White Orchid.”
“Um hmm.” Ayana moved outfits around, studying colors and textures. “This could work nicely if you wear your ivory tasseled boots.”
Two days later Jordan parked in the lot of The White Orchid. Looking around, she didn’t see Derek’s car. Well, she was a little early. Grabbing her purse, she reapplied her lipstick—a soft pink shade she’d just picked up at the corner store—and headed for the door. The sweet grandmother met her inside, along with lulling smells of jasmine, mint, chamomile, and assorted bold and exotic spices. The soft strands of music added to the instant sensory overload.
“Welcome, dear. Do you have a reservation?”
“Yes. It’s under Copeland. Derek.”
Grandma’s mouth thinned, but she quickly put her smile back on. Her eyes sparkled as she moved out to escort Jordan. “Right this way, dear. How soon do you expect Mr. Copeland?”
“Any minute now.”
Grandma led her between tiny tables set intimately for two with flickering candlelight, lace tablecloths, and single red-stemmed roses in pretty vases. Potted Boston ferns hung from ceiling beams and tall palms peeked from the darker corners. Streamers of red, white, and pink hung like banners, suspended by balloons. Jordan smiled at the silky threads of violin and haunting melody of saxophone and trumpet. It sent shivers up her spine.
“Is this all right?” Grandma asked, stopping before a table with a window overlooking the bay. Boats bobbed under the winter sun.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Jordan slipped into the chair. Grandma handed her a laminated card with the day’s offerings. Left alone, she glanced at the card and wondered how long until Derek arrived.
Twenty minutes later, and still no Derek. A cute server guy strolled restlessly around, serving plates of food and drinks or busing tables. He glanced her way a few times, his dark brows knit into silent question marks. Finally, he approached her.
“Hi. I’m Will. Can I get you anything while you wait? Water. Tea.”
She gave a nervous little giggle and fidgeted with her hands on the lace. “Is it that obvious I’m waiting?” Well, didn’t that sound intelligent, Jordan. What else would you be doing here on Valentine’s?
He shrugged. “The ten times or so you checked your watch or every time you about gave yourself whiplash when the front door opened.” He softened his observation with a grin.
“Oh.” Way to go. Nothing like being obvious. She smoothed the lace cloth. “Yes, an ice water would be good, thank you.”
He nodded and spun around. She had to admit he looked as good leaving in his form-hugging jeans as he had looked sliding between the tables. His short dark hair and whiskey-colored eyes were easy to look at too. Who was he?
As she waited, she took her phone out and opened up the message screen. Selecting the recipient, she typed:
Derek, where are you? It’s almost two.
Will arrived and silently left a glass of water, so cold she felt the chill emitting from it. A fresh lemon wedge balanced on the rim. She sipped it, then tapped her phone screen, hoping for a response. It finally came, twenty minutes later.
I don’t think this is going to work out.
What wasn’t going to work out? Air escaped her lips as she struggled to understand Derek’s message. The meeting today? Her pulse skipped in uneven rhythm to her heartbeat.
Fingers shaking, she typed back.
I don’t understand. What isn’t working out? We can reschedule if it’s inconvenient.
She waited, heart hammering, for him to respond. Will came by, pausing, his brows still puckered into a question. She had no answer.
Derek, tell me, what should I do? It’s nearly two-thirty. Should I leave?
She felt silly for staying while other couples came in together, laughed and shared, and then left together. What was going on with Derek?
Her phone chimed and she nearly dropped it as she hurried to scoop it up. His words, typed in black, knocked the wind from her lungs.
Not my choice.
She turned her gaze back out to the boats in the bay, unable to stop the tears stinging her eyes as they gathered, then rolled down her cheeks.
Time lost meaning. Jordan stayed at her back corner table, numb, unable to process Derek’s messages and powerless to summon the strength to leave. Dumped. Had he really dumped her on Valentine’s, while making her think he was taking her to a nice tea party? What did he expect her to do here? Celebrate? She emitted a dry cackle at the thought. Was that why he insisted on driving separately?
“Here.” Will sat a tray down on the table and a tea kettle shaped yellow cake in front of her. Surprised, she sniffed, turning her eyes to him. He offered her a smile, slipped into the chair intended for Derek, and sat, folding his arms on the table. He waited.
“What’s this?”
“You came here for a tea party, right? Here’s your tea party.” He poured tea into the cups and lifted the sugar cubes, dark eyebrows raised in anticipation.
“Uh…yes, two.” She watched as he plunked two cubes into her cup. She shook her head at his offer of cream. Then she watched as he poured himself a cup and took a sip. Citrus and lemon balm wafted around them. She studied the tea kettle cake, decorated with marzipan flowers, handle, and lid, and displayed on a ten-inch plate. It was really cute. So was Will. She snapped her attention back to the thick buttercream frosting. She glanced at the other plates on the silver tray. One held cucumber finger sandwiches and the other was piled with dainty lace tea cookies. Her stomach rumbled.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, stirring the tea, inhaling the lemon balm.
“Because…” He blew out a breath and looked around. “Because I did, okay?”
She followed his gaze around the room. It had been fairly packed when she arrived. Now it was almost empty, Grandma shuffled about clearing the last tables, and out on the bay, the sun was sliding down to the water. Horror gripped her.
“Are you doing this out of pity? Or as a polite way to get me going out of here?” She buried her face in her hands, ready to bolt.
He must have anticipated her move and snaked out to snatch her arm. Warmth wrapped around her wrist as he took a gentle hold and waited until she faced him.
“No, I’m doing this because you seem like a nice person. Too nice to be…alone when she expected a date.” He modified his comment.
“Dumped?” she supplied humorlessly.
He gave a terse nod. “Not that I was eavesdropping or anything, but, yeah, it seems like that’s what happened. Am I wrong?”
He removed his hand and instantly her arm was cooler. She reached for the tea. “No, I think that’s what happened.”
“You think?”
She indicated the phone. “Derek’s texts are rather…vague.” And brief. “But he’s not here when he led me to believe he would be.”
Will held her eyes for a moment. “He�
��s a fool.” Then, as if startled by his own confession, he stuck out his hand. “Since we weren’t formally introduced, I’m Will Larkin.”
“Jordan Kelly.” They pumped hands, that warmth and a gentle strength returning to Jordan’s hand. “Larkin? Are you related to that sweet grandmother who runs this place?”
Will chuckled. “That’s Grams. I’m her grandson, temporarily home on leave between tours. And I get to help Grams and my mom out since Mom hurt her ankle recently.”
“You’re a soldier?”
“Just finished my second tour in Afghanistan. I’m a lieutenant in the Army.” His elbows returned to the table.
She picked up a tea cookie and sampled the almond nutty crunch. “How lucky for them that you were available to come help them.”
“I guess. It’s just another mission to me. When my orders arrive, I’ll ship out to the next place.”
“Well, until then, welcome home?” He smiled at her awkward comment. She indicated the lovely yellow buttercream cake. “I haven’t a clue how to cut this. It’s so lovely.”
Will picked up a serving knife. “Mom’s specialty. And I might know a trick or two on cutting. Allow me?”
She met his warm smile with a slow one of her own. Suddenly she was very glad he sat down with her.
Chapter Five
Will
“That was a nice thing you did for that poor girl.”
Will stopped at the kitchen’s threshold. His mom stood at the sink, hands buried in soapy water, and stacks of dishes around her. He gazed at the crutches propped against the counter.
“Are you supposed to be up like that?” Without waiting for her reply, he wrestled a plate from her hand, gently guided her toward a chair, and resumed her task as dishwasher. Why didn’t they put a dishwashing machine in?
“Grams told you?”
“Um hum. It’s just terrible. What a good thing you’re here. And you’re so sweet.”
Will shrugged, exchanging the clean plate for a dirty one. “You raised me right.” Well, she and Grams raised him. He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking when he took the tea party tray to Jordan. It was clear she’d just been dumped, by a coward named Copeland. He knew that name well enough. Grams began tsk-tsking under her breath, and the next thing he knew, he began loading up a party tray to take out to her.
And it felt good inside. A part of him that he’d previously thought was broken suddenly seemed repaired after those moments in Jordan’s company. Her shy smile and big, doe-brown eyes wove the broken pieces back together again. Her hesitant laugh made him remember he was not only a soldier, he was a man…who hadn’t been with a woman in two long years.
Even though she was confused and shocked by the unexpected behavior of her ball-less and gut-less boyfriend—a Copeland, go figure—she’d still managed to make sparks ignite off in him. He loved watching her brush back her wavy blonde hair, and each time it fell forward again, he wanted to reach out and push it aside for her.
He felt torn between wanting to go find that Copeland weasel and show him some positive correction on how to treat a lady, and taking Jordan into his arms and show her how a man treats a woman. Except he wasn’t sticking around long, so he did neither. How his buddies back in the unit would razz him if they only knew.
He dropped his nose to his sleeve and sniffed, hoping to pick up the scent of her soft floral and fruity perfume. Like roses and peaches.
“She seemed like a nice person.”
“Yes, Mom, she was.” Will bit back the sigh building up as he exchanged dishes again. “Hopefully she can find someone new who treats her right.”
He wished that would end any matchmaking ideas his mom might be sprouting, but he kind of doubted it. Oh well, she’d figure it out when he never saw Jordan again. And his throbbing groin would figure it out when he could slip away for a cold, cold shower.
Chapter Six
Jordan
“Wow, it’s like a fairytale. And then what happened?”
Jordan stroked Sultan, Ayana’s silky black cat. Sultan purred and Ayana’s glittering bangles clanked. Who needed a radio with this noise?
“Not much.” She shrugged. “Will and I ate the food. He seemed really sweet.” She paused, taking another bite of smooth milk chocolate heart-shaped candy. Ayana was generously sharing her gift basket. “I suspect he was upset at Derek. Then I left.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” She pushed Sultan away from the heart in her hand, then ran her fingertips along the cat’s arched back.
“Oh, my word! Girl!” Ayana’s hands shot up, scaring Sultan. “You had a totally hot guy sitting there with you.”
“Derek—”
Ayana’s hands slapped the chair, her bracelets sounding like keys. “Girlfriend! Derek left you high and dry.” She wagged a finger at Jordan. “You’d have never noticed hottie soldier boy if Derek had been there like he said he would…like a decent boyfriend would.” She huffed, dragging the cat to her lap. “Now, has Derek made any effort to contact you and explain himself?”
Weariness settled over Jordan like a heavy weight. She couldn’t bear to see the explosive anger in Ayana’s face. Looking down, she shook her head and sucked in a shallow breath. “No. And my calls today went to voicemail.”
“You know what I would do?” Ayana tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I’d go back to The White Orchid, find soldier boy, and thank him for a nice afternoon.”
Jordan had thought about it. And discounted it as looking like she was trying to pick him up. “He’s only here temporarily.”
“So? He’s here now.”
Jordan didn’t know why she allowed Ayana to talk her into such things, but here she was. The massive Victorian came into view and she drew a deep breath as she parked in the lot. Maybe he wouldn’t be around. Or too busy to talk.
Exiting the car, she heard a steady pounding around the corner of the house. She followed the flower-dotted path that flowed along with the endless porch and stopped short. Will, shirtless and clad in tight jeans, knelt on his knees, hammering the wood planks. The sight was…yummy. His muscles, tanned and corded, rippled and flowed like rivulets of water as he swung the hammer. His butt, covered in form-fitting denim, made her itch to cup it and give his cheeks a squeeze. Concentration lined his handsome face, giving her an undisturbed moment to study his profile. A sigh escaped her. Delectable. Her tongue escaped to lick her lips. Yummmm.
Never mind it was February and most everyone wore shirts in February. He looked just fine without one. How’d he get so tanned this time of year? Oh, my. Heat fanned from her center, spreading over her like summer sunshine.
Then, concerned others might be nearby and aware of her gawking, she cleared her throat loudly. “Hi.”
His arm froze in mid-swing as he turned to her. Surprise stole over his face, then a smile. He released the hammer. “Hello yourself. I didn’t expect to see you back here.”
She shifted, reaching out to rest a hand on the railing for balance. “I wanted to stop by and say thank you for rescuing me yesterday. It was very nice of you.”
Color crept into his tanned cheeks. She liked the look on him. Then he shrugged. “You already thanked me…before you raced away. Besides, I enjoyed our little…party as well.”
“True, but I…ah, wanted to come back and thank you…again.”
He nodded, as if unsure as her about what to say. There were only so many times one could say thank you. An awkward silence filtered between them. Jordan shifted from foot to foot, mesmerized by Will’s solid physique as he stood up, muscles rippling like a prized stallion.
Unexpected heat poured over her from inside out and she stepped back a pace. He jammed his hands into his pockets and she wondered how he managed to fit them in when his jeans looked painted on.
“Well, I should go. You’re busy.” She retreated another step, aware of her thudding heart and wondered if he noticed. His whiskey gaze seemed to penetrate her eyes and go deep into her very soul.
It had an unnerving effect. Her lips parted as her pulse skipped and he took another step toward her. For one fantastic moment, she fantasized him kissing her. How would he taste? Salty with sweat? Sweet? She ached to find out.
The ring of her cell phone, down in her pocket, made her jump. Blushing, she fished it out and tapped the answer button without looking at the caller, her mind and gaze too focused on Will.
“Jordan. Where are you?”
Derek. Her speeding heart rate instantly stalled. Her face warmed. “I’m at The White Orchid.”
“What for?”
She heard the irritation in his voice. “I came to thank Mr. Larkin for keeping me company yesterday.” When you dumped me. Will must have been able to hear both sides, because his head tilted to one side like a hound sniffing for a scent. She swallowed, turning her back to Will.
“Who is that?”
“The owner’s grandson. He’s very nice.” She stepped a few feet away, acutely aware of Will’s stare. He made no secret he was eavesdropping. “You left me without many choices.”
“That’s not true. You misunderstood.”
A new heat surged through Jordan—anger. She gripped the phone tighter. “What is to misunderstand? You had the reservations, then you never showed up. And your few brief texts were ambiguous.”
Derek sighed as if the conversation was exhausting him. “Jordan. I was busy and didn’t have time for long conversations.”
“And what about now?”
“I’m too busy to deal with this sort of thing now. You clearly misrepresented the situation to this Larkin guy. Perhaps you should just stay away from that café. We can discuss this later.”
Craving Forbidden (Craving Series Book 8) Page 8
