by Sophia Lynn
***
As they drove down the long and winding road into town, Cord couldn't stop himself from taking small glimpses at Jordan. God, how in the world did a woman who looked like that end up a maid?
He knew how delectable her body looked naked, and he knew about the illicit thrill of pulling up her maid's uniform, but he had never thought about how beautiful she might be actually dressed up.
The lilac dress she wore made her look like a woman he might have met at a gala or performance in New York or LA. She had smoothed her pale golden hair back into a simple loose knot from which long tendrils escaped, framing her face with grace. Her eyes were so black he was sure that he would never see to the bottom of them, and every time he looked at her, Cord felt his heart beat a little faster.
What is it about this woman that has captured me like this? he wondered. It's as if there’s some kind of magnetic attraction that is pulling me in . . .
There was a part of him that wanted to pull over into one of the innumerable side avenues off the main road, stop the car, and claim her again. When she had left his bedroom earlier, heeding an urge that even Cord wasn't sure that he understood, he had lain down in bed for another moment to inhale her scent from the sheets. It was primally hers, and he craved it the way he had craved nothing else before.
It had occurred to him that they could have simply stayed at home, in bed and feasting on each other, but suddenly, it seemed as if the shadows of Waverly Manor were too much. There was too much pain and sorrow in the halls of the place he had grown up. He needed to get out, and he needed to take Jordan with him.
Seeing her in lilac, her black eyes sparking with pleasure, that was enough. That's what he needed to see, and he was suddenly very defensive about the idea of her being with anyone else and their having anything about her, even her time.
Cord hadn't been sure what they were going to do when he took her to town, but then a memory tugged, and he took a street he hadn't been down in a very long time.
"The Sam Huntington Aquarium?" she read off a sign, and Cord stiffened, wondering if she would laugh at his choice. He knew with a certain sinking feeling that even if Victoria hadn't laughed to his face, she might have laughed behind his back to a few hundred of her friends on social media.
"I've never been to an aquarium," she said, glancing at him almost shyly. "I always wanted to go, though."
Cord felt a warm surge inside his chest at her soft words. He reached over and placed a gentle hand on her thigh. It was soft and warm through her lilac dress, but there was more comfort in it than sensuality.
"Good," he said, and he meant it.
Chapter Eleven
Jordan might have told herself that she was allowed a break from her quest for vengeance, but there was really no need. The moment that Cord took her into the shadowy blue-tinted world of the aquarium, she felt utterly transported. She knew what aquariums were, of course, but she had never been permitted to go to one. There was never enough money growing up, and afterward, when she was on her own, it slipped her mind more often than not, and when she did think of it, it was always more of an idea for someday.
Well, apparently someday had come, because she walked into the aquarium on Cord's arm, looking around her with awe. She could barely believe that the aquarium staff had coaxed enormous groupings of coral to grow so far from the ocean or that the bright red octopus that slid along the bottom of the tank, its tentacles reaching out in all directions, was real. She knew that she must have been staring around herself like a rube, but she couldn't help it. With every tank that they walked by, she felt more in awe of the world around her, and she never realized that she was clinging to Cord's arm until some time later.
"I'm sorry," she said, letting go and feeling as guilty as an A student turning in her own late paper. "I'll try to be more careful."
"You can hold on as much as you like," Cord said with a smile. In the shimmering light of the aquarium, she wondered if she could sense a warmth to him, something sweet and compelling that wasn't present when he was at home at Waverly Manor.
Testing, trying to see if she could take him at his word, she took his arm again, and when he seemed to like it as much as anything else, she smiled with relief.
They made their way through the aquarium, ending up at the quiet touch tank at the rear. After they had sanitized their hands, they were allowed to reach into the shallow water and touch the animals cruising past. Jordan held her breath as one small ray floated up to her, demanding pets as clearly as any pet dog.
"This is amazing," she said with a sigh. "I can't believe they would let us touch them . . ."
"This is a relatively new exhibit," Cord said, looking around. "They certainly didn't have anything here when I was a kid. This area used to be for, hmm, sharks maybe? I don't recall."
"Was this a place that you went to very often?" she asked, looking up in surprise. "When you were a child, I mean?"
It seemed unlikely in some ways. She hadn't been able to go to the aquarium because her family was poor, but somehow, she’d had the idea that Cord's childhood was all boarding school and far more impressive events. This was a place where a moderately well-off family could spend some time, but she had a hard time imagining that Cord's family would come here so often.
It was almost as if a cloud had come over the sun. There was no shift in Cord's features, but there was a perceptible chill to the air. It was as if everything was a little darker, and with her hand half in the tank, Jordan felt as if she was suddenly very exposed and needed to be very careful.
"We came here a great deal when . . . we did come here. My mother left a small endowment to this place before she passed. It was special to us."
Oh, perhaps it carries sad memories for him because of that, she thought uneasily, but her instincts were telling her something else. Her instincts were telling her that where Cord Everett was concerned, this was very shaky ground and that she should be careful indeed.
However, when she looked into Cord's face, the instinct that arose was not fear or anxiety. Instead, she felt as if she wanted to shield this man who had everything, to protect him from whatever had reached out of the past to hurt him.
"Let's get out of here," she said at last, taking a towel from one of the nearby dispensers to wipe her hands.
Cord looked surprised, but she thought she detected something grateful in his eyes.
"As my lady commands," he said, and she smiled.
"I'm hungry, and as a matter of fact, I do have a command," she said.
Well, at the very least, I'll take your mind off this, she thought, and maybe that would be enough.
***
Ever after, Jordan wondered if everything she had gone through would be worth it for the look on Cord Everett's face as she introduced him to walking tacos.
The gas station clerk behind his thick pane of bulletproof glass didn't even seem to notice them as Jordan carefully created the snack that an old friend had shown her. Cord watched her with eyes that were getting more disbelieving with every moment, but he didn't stop her. Perhaps he was too stunned to do so.
"All right, first you get a bag of corn chips of some kind. Some people like to get something really spicy, but I don't care for that much heat, so just plain does well for me. Then you smush it around like this to break up the chips. Then you open it like this across the top and head to the hot bar."
She paused, glancing up at Cord. At least he no longer looked like he had when they were at the aquarium.
"I mean, I know that you've probably never eaten lunch at a gas station before . . ."
"That would be correct, yes."
"But trust me, this is good."
He opened his mouth as if to challenge her statement, but then he closed it again, choosing instead to watch her as she continued.
"Okay, at the hot bar, usually there's some kind of chili being served. I really wouldn't eat it by itself—it's mostly grease and salt—but this makes it pretty tolerable."<
br />
She scooped a healthy amount of the chili directly into the open bag of chips in her hand, and then she grabbed a plastic fork to mix the concoction up thoroughly. She kept her face utterly serene, but inside, she wasn't sure that she would ever stop giggling.
"All right. Eat up while it's still hot. It's pretty awful cold."
Cord took the bag from her, looking askance at the food inside.
"I am not sure that any amount of heat could make this acceptable," he said, and for a moment, she was certain that he would refuse to eat it. Then to her surprise, Cord shrugged and took a bite, chewing as carefully and thoughtfully as she imagined he would at a five-star restaurant.
She couldn't help herself. Jordan pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture, making him look up and glare.
"And what was that for?"
"All for me," she said with a smile. "Whenever I need a laugh, I am going to pull it up and remind myself that I got you to eat walking tacos,"
"I’d better not see that on a tabloid, or I'm going to make sure that you don't sit down for a week," he said half-heartedly.
"I can't help noticing that you are still eating," Jordan pointed out, her tone dripping honey, and he nodded, a great deal of reluctance in his gesture.
"It's terrible," he admitted. "It is terrible and it is made of terrible things, but there's something ridiculously addictive about it. I'm afraid that walking tacos are the source of all nightmares, but now that I’m actually eating this, I see why people do it."
Jordan grinned, creating another for herself.
"Yeah, it's pretty hard to be sad while you've got a walking taco in your hand, isn't it?"
She missed the startled look on his face as she scooped chili into her own bag, and that was when the attendant finally looked up enough to notice what they were doing.
"Hey, you have to pay for that!" he shouted, and Jordan knew that she would always be sad that she had missed snapping the look of outrage on the face of a man worth millions who had just been accused of stealing some three dollars’ worth of food.
***
"Well, that was entertaining," Cord said as they wended their way down the road.
"Which part, the part where you ate some of the junkiest food known to mankind, or where you threatened to buy the gas station and rewrite policy?"
"Well, I figure that it was all entertaining for you," he said with a sour look her way. “Who in the world taught you to be such a troublemaker, anyway?"
It took her a moment to realize that it wasn't a rhetorical question. He looked at her with curiosity, and she realized that she had to come up with an answer. A dozen false stories flickered through her mind, but for some reason, the idea of lying to Cord made her feel ill. She had to be very careful about what she did say, however, and she sat up a little straighter in the passenger side seat.
"I guess if anyone taught me to be a troublemaker, it was my mother," Jordan said. "I remember when a man started screaming at us in the parking lot. I was just five, and I guess I had tripped. I ran into his fancy car, and he started shouting at me and at her, saying that we had scratched it. He scared me a great deal, telling me that we were going to jail if we didn't pay him off. My mom just listened to him calmly, and then she said something about how he must be so protective of his car because a big car meant a small . . . well, you know."
Cord chuckled in surprise at her response, and Jordan laughed a little too. She could still remember the warmth of that afternoon and the mingled feelings of terror and relief as her mother had stood between her and the bellowing stranger. God, she had been terrified, but her mother had stood as calmly as a trained soldier.
"Yeah, everyone else laughed too, and the guy slinked off like a hound with his tail between his legs. We got home, and I realized that she was shaking some. She was as scared as I had been, but she still protected me."
Jordan shook her head, trying to blink back the tears that welled up in her eyes.
"She was . . . she was pretty amazing. After my dad died, I was kind of her world, I guess."
She hadn't realized how it would affect her to talk about her mother. There was a sense of exhaustion there, but there was a sense of relief as well. She had never talked about her mother before, not even in as minor a way that she had. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off her, and it felt strange and new. Good.
"And your father?"
Damn, damn, damn, she hadn't meant to mention her father. She felt herself go still. Jordan risked a quick glance at Cord, but he didn't seem as if he was watching her or doing anything more than trying to get to know her. Jordan knew that she had to proceed cautiously, but there was a part of her that wanted this, that needed it. She knew that she could not be honest with this man, of all the men in the world, but she wanted to be honest with someone about something . . .
"My father was a broken man," she said slowly. She listened to herself say the words, judging them as she turned them over and over in her mind.
"Before I was born, he was different, or so my mother told me. She said that he was always on the go, always looking to make a deal and get ahead. I guess he was good at it. I have pictures of the house where he lived with my mother back then. It was pretty. Not big, but close to a lake and gorgeous in the summertime.
"I guess . . . I guess he had a deal that was going to make him as a real estate investor. He had a lock on beachfront property that was going up for sale . . ."
Jordan paused, slightly horrified by how much she had revealed. Her father had gone to Lance Everett, telling him that he would reveal the property if he were allowed to buy in as well. Lance had agreed, allowing her father to make the preliminary agreements, to invest his own money as a surety. Then he had held back, ignoring her father's pleas until he had lost the money after the good faith term had expired.
Lance swept in, buying the property at a much lower rate, and today, beachfront property worth millions sat on what had been unused land. Lance retired rich, and her father drank himself into an early grave.
She sneaked another look at Cord, but he continued to drive, listening, but without anything to indicate he knew his father's own role in this sad play.
"You don't have to talk about this if it is painful for you."
"I think we could save this for another day, if that is all right with you," Jordan said finally. She had no idea how much she would reveal if she kept talking. Once she had opened up, it was almost addictive, something that startled her. She was supposed to be on her guard with Cord, but she couldn't seem to remember that.
"You know," she said with a slight smile. "Wait until we both really want to feel bad."
Cord choked on a startled laugh, and this time, he did glance at her.
"God, you're a strange one," he said, and she found a smile for him, a real one.
"Really? Is that good?"
"Very," he said softly. "I think it all contributes to how beautiful you are as well . . ."
As they drove deeper into the countryside, a part of Jordan wished that they could freeze time. They could simply stay in the car, driving to some unknown destination forever. He had said it was a surprise, and she was content to wait in quiet anticipation like this, warm and happy and talking with Cord.
Chapter Twelve
The bed and breakfast was a gorgeous little gem in the middle of the forest. It was at least a hundred years old, but the owners took good care of it. The vivid orange, purple, and sage green paint looked like it could have been applied the day before, and the setting sun gave the enormous house a warm appearance, like it was a place that had been well-loved and cared for.
The owners, a tall, silent man and a round, bubbly woman with a fall of curly dark hair, came out to greet them in the long driveway.
"Oh good, we were wondering if you were going to make it before sundown," said the woman. "We left some food on the stove for you. The only place that delivers is a really rotten pizza place, and I wouldn't let the coyotes have
that."
"Thank you," Cord said as Jordan looked around in confusion. "We really appreciate it. Is there anything else we should know?"
"Not at all," the woman said. "Keys are on the kitchen table. You have the run of the place as you requested, and now the hubby and I are off to the tables in Atlantic City for the next few days."
The owners of the bed and breakfast got into their car, an improbable little roadster that roared off with an impressively loud engine, and Jordan looked after them with surprise.
"So . . . what was that?"
"Oh, Jim and Marie Tallcorn," Cord said, leading her up the stairs to the door. "They've owned this place for years. Turned out it was available for a few days, so I thought that I would kidnap you for a bit and see how you liked hanging around a place you didn't have to keep so clean."
Jordan bit her lip worriedly. Jordan the maid was hectoring her from the back of her mind, but that didn't mean the little pest was wrong.
"But . . . I have to work," she said hesitantly. "I just have today off."
Cord shot her lazy smile, and there was something about that look that made her heart beat faster. Cord was a man used to control, and she could tell that he was not going to let her take it from him.
"I think you remember who signs your checks, right? We're on direct deposit these days, but it's still me."
"Just like that?" she asked, still hovering outside the door.
There was something about the house that almost frightened her. It was beautiful and warm and obviously well-loved, but it was simply so different from the hovels where she had grown up and the icy splendor of Waverly Manor. If she stepped inside, everything would change, and she had no idea if she would be able to do what she had come to Cord Everett's house to do. She had no idea how he would look to her or how she would look to him after this was all over, and that thought was perhaps the most terrifying of all.
"Just like that," he said from inside the house. Jordan could see him silhouetted in the warm light while she stood cold on the porch, shivering a little. He turned toward her, and she saw him, really saw him.
