Shivering now from the cold, Kaylee ducked her head against a particularly biting burst of wind and pressed forward the last few steps to the truck. Dancing from one foot to the other to ward off the chill seeping beneath the folds of her coat, she clicked the button on the thingy on Jordan's key ring to unlock the door and opened the one on the passenger side to climb in, her thoughts still caught by the unsettling realization that she might be falling in love again.
How could such a thing have happened without her being aware of what was going on? There would have been clues. Hints to warn her things between her and Jordan were slipping into a territory she wasn't ready to re-explore. Maybe the signs had been there all along but she'd been enjoying herself so much she'd simply refused to let herself see?
Lost in thought, she jumped when the driver side door popped open and Jordan slid in behind the wheel, rapidly rubbing his bare hands together to ward off the cold.
Both hands on her chest now, she swung her head to stare at him wide-eyed. “Good grief, you startled me!”
“Sorry, it's frigid in here!” He continued to rub at his hands while his gaze flitted from the empty ignition switch, to the dash, and then to the seat before finally rising to settle on her, his brow wrinkled by a slight frown of confusion. “I gave you the keys, didn't I?”
“What? I—yes, you did. Sorry. I was preoccupied.”
She handed over the keys and he started the engine, then cranked up the heat. “It's getting colder out there. Hank said it looks like their might be snow.”
At the mention of snow, her thoughts drifted to the beautiful snow globe she'd bought at Seville's the day she'd first met him, and she thought of the house inside, her mind suddenly making clear to her the definition of the word home.
Home meant comfort and security.
Home meant freedom to be who you were—the real you—and still find acceptance.
Home meant a never-ending supply of concern and understanding and sensitivity.
And home meant special memories—the kind that either grounded you or sent your spirits soaring.
In a word, home was not a place at all, but rather, a feeling—the word, in fact, embodied the highest emotion of all. Home, Kaylee realized at last, meant “anywhere you feel loved.”
Just as she had suspected, it had nothing to do with the structure in which one lived but everything to do with the people who resided inside and the certain knowledge was almost terrifying. But worse than having come to a full understanding of what home truly meant to her was the uncomfortable yet undeniable truth which followed: Jordan had become home for her.
Wherever he was, as long as she was at his side, she felt completely at ease and at home—and that frightened her.
“I'm sorry I had to cancel our trip.” Jordan said, glancing over while backing carefully out of the parking space. “I was really looking forward to showing you the city. Kind of like repaying the favor you've granted me—helping me get familiar with the sights and sounds of Hawthorne Grove.”
“It's not a problem,” she absently assured him, her entire being still reeling from reaction to her discovery. “In fact, it's probably for the best that we didn't go.”
There was a little quaver in her voice there at the end. Closing her eyes, she turned quickly away toward the window, hoping he hadn't noticed the betraying little catch of sound that heralded an imminent onset of tears, but when she cast a quick glance over at him she saw a confused frown knitting his brow yet again.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Not trusting her voice to not crack if she spoke, Kaylee nodded instead in answer to his question. But the truth was, she wasn't sure. Was she okay? Or had she let this thing with Jordan go too far? The recent realizations she had made clearly said she had—if her intention was to protect her heart from danger of breaking. “I'm fine, but I think I'd rather you drop me back at Sam's, if you don't mind.”
He cast her another quick glance as he maneuvered off the little side road onto the highway. This time, his eyes were filled with more than confusion, but Kaylee could not seem to make herself hold his gaze long enough to sort through the myriad questions she saw there. She'd already dealt with more emotion than she cared to today. Right now, all she wanted to do was get back to her apartment where she could figure out how to deal with the startling revelation she had uncovered.
“Alright. It's probably a good idea that you don't meet Stacy yet, anyway. She can be a bit … difficult at times.”
Kaylee felt her brow pull downward, just now realizing there was a decided significance in the way he said the name, one she didn't yet understand, but had a feeling she should. Her head swung round, her gaze flying up to meet his. “Stacy?”
Jordan's shoulder rose and fell in a halfhearted, nonchalant shrug. “My ex. Apparently, she's camped out on my doorstep and I need to find out why.”
His ex? Ex-girlfriend? Or ex-wife?
In either case, Kaylee's reaction was decidedly not good and she expected any attempts at an explanation he might make would only produce more of the same breathless fear of impending destruction. Clutching her hands in her lap, she quietly reminded herself to breathe while dread poured over her in icy sheets, chilling the blood in her veins. “Camped out?”
His gaze focused on the road, Jordan nodded. “Yep. Sam said it looked like she planned to stay for a while.”
He offered the words so calmly it frightened her. But when he didn't deny that she would, indeed, be spending some time with him, Kaylee squeezed her eyes closed, fighting against the blindingly obvious demonstration of his betrayal, a swiftly rising sense of panic, and the terribly familiar crushing weight of inexplicably harrowing pain.
She could feel the color leeching from her as surely as she felt the sting of bile rising in her throat. Turning toward the window again, she put her hands over her face this time, hoping that maybe he wouldn't notice she'd gone pale.
How could this be happening to her—again?
Eyes burning with the sting of unshed tears and her throat tight against the thick swell of emotions pouring through her, Kaylee slid one hand toward the button to lower her window. Her fingers trembled and she seriously needed some air. The glass lowered and she turned her face into the frigid wind, sucking in several quick, deep breaths.
“Kaylee? Are you sure you're okay? You've been so quiet today—”
She could hear his voice. She understood his question. She even recognized the genuine sound of concern in his voice, but at the moment, her very newly mended heart was breaking again and none of it mattered. Somehow she managed to shake her head yes, to deter both his questions and his concern, but her stomach still rolled.
Turning away to stare out the window again, she squeezed her fists into tight balls in her lap, willing away the nausea in her gut. If they could just make it back to Sammy's, everything would be alright. She could get into her own car and drive back to the sanctuary of her apartment and think. But they were still driving and Sammy's felt a world away, and … and she was pretty sure she'd fallen head over heels in love with Jordan H. Parker.
Oh, no. I think I'm going to be sick.
Chapter 13
Jordan thought he should have felt something when he saw Stacy again for the first time since their breakup, but other than an eagerness to see the last of her once he found out why she had come, there was nothing.
“Hello, Jordan. It's been a while,” she said, a hesitant smile touching her lips. “How have you been?”
Jordan motioned for Sarge to jump down then closed the truck door and, crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back against the fender and eyed her suspiciously. “Better than when I left the city. How about yourself? What are you doing here, Stacy? Sam said you arrived with luggage.”
His words seemed to spark a reminder. “Oh, that! Yes, I did. Was that him in the black Durango? I thought it was you, that I'd just missed you.”
Walking to her car, she opened the back and reached inside.
“I was digging in my bags for this.”
The door closed again and she walked up to him, holding out a package with wrinkled wrapping paper on the outside. “It's a little worse for wear, but—this is for you. Open it.”
Warily, he did. Inside was a letter box. He lifted the lid. There was a folded note lying in the bottom. He flicked it open with one finger. A single word was written on the paper inside. It said, “Sorry.”
“Okay. What does this mean, Stacy? You know I don't like games.”
“No game.” She was shaking her head. “It's a sincere apology. One I needed to make before I said thank you—for throwing me out of your life and making me see the light.”
“I'm seeing someone,” he said quickly, before she could launch into some spiel about how she missed him and wanted to be with him again, but she surprised him by laughing instead.
“Me, too! His name is Weston McKinley, and we are getting married.” Leaning close, she whispered, “I'm marrying someone else, Jordan, so you can relax.”
His expression must have revealed just how stunned he was by her announcement because she laughed. “That's why I came—to invite you to the wedding. Well, firstly to apologize, and then to issue the invitation, but—you will come, won't you?”
“Married.” Jordan dropped the word like a rock and shook his head to clear it, totally ignoring the half-hopeful, half-doubtful look in her eyes for the moment. Stacy Blaut was getting married. “Do you love him? Does he love you?”
He didn't know why he was asking, but he felt like he should.
This time when she smiled, her eyes lit in a way he had not seen them do in a long, long time. “Yes! Yes, I do. We do! Isn't it crazy?”
Spinning about on her toes, she raised her hands to the sky and declared, “He loves me! Weston Jade McKinley loves me, and he wants me to be his bride!”
Settling down somewhat though the smile curving her ever-glossed lips stayed firmly in place, she said, “And that's why I want you to be there, Jordan. I—I want you to give me away. Will you? Please?”
If he thought he'd been shocked before, now even stunned wouldn't cover his reaction. “Me? I can't give you away, Stacy. Your family...”
“Father is the only member of my family I would have wanted to do the honors, Jordan, but he isn't with us anymore. He would have liked Wes. Don't you think he would have? Oh, wait, you haven't met him yet!”
Her quick, short burst of a laugh was his only indication the subject of who would give her away at her impending wedding was a touchy one for her. “I haven't, true, so I couldn't say, Stace, but what about Nathaniel and Eric? Won't your brothers expect to be the ones to...”
“Eric is standing with Wes as his best man. And you know Nate. He's rarely home and when he is, he doesn't much care what the rest of us are up to.”
Her gaze fell. She studied her nails and Jordan fought back the teensiest twinge of guilt for denying her. But, damn it, she was the one who had made things impossible between the two of them. Not that he regretted their split. If anything, seeing her today made him even more grateful that he'd ended things when he had. But even he wasn't so callous he couldn't see this whole wedding thing was important to her. That, in itself, was a revelation to how much she'd changed.
“What about Stanley? I'm sure he'd—”
“Didn't you hear? Uncle Stanley had a heart attack, Jordan. A month after you sent me packing, I got the call. He died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.”
Now he really felt like a douche. “I'm sorry. I hadn't heard.”
“Say you'll do it, Jordan. I know you still—still have bad feelings toward me because of our past, but—I really need you to do this. Not because of how we were or what we hoped we might become, but because you're the only person who's ever really made a difference in my life since Father died.”
Jordan snorted at her skewed sense of logic. “I kicked you out of our apartment. How is that classified as making a difference?”
“I don't know how to explain it, Jordan, but it did.” She shrugged. “Really.”
She cocked her head to the side and stood staring up at the big Hawthorne tree in his yard in silence for a moment. “It was like, until the day you asked me to leave, I was blind, you know? Maybe it sounds silly, but even though I knew we were together, that I was as much an adult as you and just as responsible and capable of doing my part to make things work between us, I couldn't really see that I wasn't.
“Your decision to end things between us was a gift, Jordan. Like sight to a blind man. For the first time in my life, I realized it was time I stopped relying on others for my happiness and to go out and make my own.”
Her eyes, when she looked at him again, were shiny with a fine misting of tears. “And I did it. I took responsibility for my own life, for my own happiness, and that is when I found Wes. Or, more accurately, that is when Wes found me.”
Two steps put her squarely in front of him. She looked up with a smile and said, “I'm happy now, Jordan. Really, truly happy for the first time in my life, and I have you to thank for it.”
Jordan knew when he was beaten, and now was a perfect example of it. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “Fine, I'll do it. Unless Nate steps up, and he might, Stacy.”
“You will? Oh, thank you!” Squealing her happiness, Stacy stood on her toes and hugged him. “This is wonderful, Jordan! You're the best!”
“Unless Nate decides to do the right thing, as your oldest brother. And you have to promise me if he does, you will let him. Deal?”
She grinned and reached out a hand to shake on it. “Deal.”
Across town, Kaylee grabbed a spoon for her yogurt from the kitchen and headed to the small, afghan covered sofa that nestled beneath the one big window in her living room. Tucking her feet beneath her, she ducked her head over the yogurt cup and dug in, ignoring the piercing look her sister slanted her way.
“Did you even bother to ask him?” Jo asked. “I think if things had gone far enough between Michael and I for me to agree to go away for the weekend with him, I'd have asked if he was married the minute he mentioned an ex.”
“Of course I didn't, Jo. Why would I? He said she was waiting for him. He said she was going to stay. I didn't see any reason to ask questions, since the answers were obviously none of my business.”
Jo shot a glance heavenward and rolled her eyes. “No, there you're wrong. You've spent the past several weeks with him under the impression he was available. If he gave the wrong impression, you have a right to know. Call him. I know he's been calling you.”
“How do you know that?” Kaylee asked around the tip of her spoon.
Jo snorted. “You look at your phone every time it vibrates. If it were Mom, or Min, or any one of a dozen other people you'd have answered it by now, if only to avoid talking to me. So it's Jordan. Six times now, if my count isn't off. See what he wants, Kaylee. Return his call.”
She held Kaylee's phone out to her but Kaylee shook her head, ignoring the offering. “I can't.”
“Why not? Look, either something happened between you and Jordan today or something should have. Which is it?”
“He asked me to go away with him for the weekend.”
“We've already established that, Kaylee. And you told him you would go. But now you're here, sucking down yogurt as if there won't be any tomorrow and I can tell you've been crying. So his ex showed up. So she planned to stay. That doesn't mean Jordan is going to let her.”
“Maybe,” Kaylee mumbled around another mouthful of yogurt. “But maybe I just don't care, okay?”
Jo's eyes widened. “Don't care? Oh, don't even try to go there with me, Kaylee Dean. I know better. And I think you've assessed the situation wrongly this time. Jordan likes you. A lot. He may even love you. In fact, I am pretty darn sure he does love you. And I don't think he's going to let this ex, whoever she is, spoil the good thing he's had going with you now that she's here.”
Still holding Kay
lee's cell phone, she stepped across her sister's feet and plopped down on the sofa beside her. “Have a little faith, won't you? Sometime or another you've got to realize every man in the world is not Daniel and it might as well be now.”
The peal of her doorbell roused Jo from her seat. Making a face at Kaylee as she passed, she pulled open the door without bothering to ask who was on the other side—and turned back to her sister with a snarky expression and a teasing little smile twisting her lips. “Well, speak of the devil and the devil appears. Kaylee, it's Jordan. Should I let him in?”
Kaylee nodded and Jo stepped aside to allow her unexpected visitor access to the apartment. “Mr. Parker. What are you doing here? I thought you had company.”
“I came to see you, Miss Dean, and I thought we were well past the formal use of last names only.”
Jo snorted. “She just wants to know if you're married—or if you've been married. Are you? Have you? Nosy older sisters want to know.”
“No, and no, but why would you think I was married?”
“Your company.”
“That's enough, Jo. I think I can speak for myself.”
“Now that I've broken the ice anyway.” She shrugged. “Michael is expecting me. He texted me at Huntingdon's and I told him I'd come to check on Kaylee but that I'd be home soon. Y'all have fun now, ya hear?”
Kaylee glared while she shouldered her purse and let herself out, then turned to Jordan. “She's such a pest.”
Jordan cocked a brow. “If you were curious about my visitor, Kaylee, why didn't you just ask me?”
“I didn't think I had a right to dig into your personal life.”
Both brows rose. “My—I don't have a personal life, Kaylee. Not yet. No, at the moment, my one relationship is very, very public.”
Kaylee's narrowed eyes held his. “Are you talking about me, Jordan? About us? Because that's really what I need to know. If there even is an us...”
Jordan held up a hand, then dug into his coat pocket to extract three cases. Movie rentals. All romantic comedy—one specifically the movie she had seen with him when they'd first met. “I hope there is an us, because watching these movies certainly won't be done by me if I have to do it alone. I tried to call, but when you didn't answer, I decided to take a chance and just drop by.” His gaze roamed around her combination living/dining/kitchen and he nodded. “Nice. You decorate this yourself?”
Something Magical (Witches of Hawthorne Grove Book 1) Page 10
