Spring Into Love

by Chantel Rhondeau

  That is, if he didn’t turn her off with presumptuous text messages. Jake figured the risk was minimal. Jordan had a sense of humor, and besides, he wanted her to know that he wanted her. The sense of humor was reaffirmed when he read her simple, one-word reply.

  Yes.

  The hopeful anticipation of what might lie ahead prompted him to make a quick detour on the way. He arrived at her door fifteen minutes later, and she answered it wearing a sundress adorned with flowers and a matching pink flower in her hair, which cascaded to her shoulders.

  Jake held out the bouquet of fresh flowers. “I brought you these, though I’m not sure you need any more flowers.”

  “Nonsense. A girl can never have too many flowers.” Jordan smiled sheepishly. “Well, not this girl, anyway.” As she took them from him, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  She smelled like a mixture of vanilla and mint, and Jake wondered if it was soap, shampoo, or perfume. Either way, it bordered on intoxicating. Down, boy. “Don’t worry, I came with my appetite, too,” he said.

  Jordan chuckled. “Good to know.” She nodded in the direction of the patio off her living room. “I thought we could sit outside. Why don’t you go on out? Just let me put these in some water and I’ll join you.”

  Jake wasn’t sure about sitting outside in the hot summer sun, but if Jordan wanted to eat on her patio, he’d find a way to tolerate the heat. Surprisingly, when he opened the French doors and stepped outside, he found that it didn’t even feel that hot.

  A wooden fence lined one side of the patio, affording privacy from the adjacent unit, but the other sides were open. Jake looked around and quickly noticed that the pot he’d purchased for her a few weeks before was now filled with a cactus and sat in a corner of the patio. It pleased him seeing that she’d found a place for it already.

  The door opened again, and Jordan stepped outside carrying two tall glasses filled with what Jake now recognized as her signature drink. Club soda, with a twist of lemon. It wasn’t the most flavorful drink he’d ever had, but Jake was getting used to it. Besides, she was worth some sacrifices.

  Jordan set the drinks on the table and reached up to open the umbrella.

  “Here, let me.” Jake stepped over to help her. Once the umbrella was locked in place, he sat down and reached for one of the glasses. “I expected it to be hotter out here, but it doesn’t feel too bad.”

  “No.” Jordan sat down in the other chair. “The wonders of eastern exposure. I was on the waiting list for two months to get a unit here because I told my realtor I wanted nothing to do with a west facing patio.” She sipped her drink. “What’s the point of having a patio if it’s too hot to use it after two in the afternoon?”

  “Makes sense. This is nice.” Jake took a drink. “I see you’re using the pot. It looks great out here.”

  “I knew it’d match the decor,” Jordan said. “I like it a lot. Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome.” Jake smiled. “Happy to see it put to good use.”

  “How hungry are you? We can have the salad now, or just sit out here for a while. Dinner will keep for bit.”

  Most of the women Jake dated in the past weren’t the type who’d cook a meal for him, and he found himself unsure of the proper protocol. If he said he preferred to wait and just talk for a while, would she think he wasn’t looking forward to the meal she prepared? Likewise, if he said he was hungry and wanted to eat, did that imply he was just there for the food and didn’t really care about the company?

  “The salad sounds good,” he said after the slightest hesitation. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “None at all.” Jordan stood up. “I’ll get it.”

  “Do you need some help?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Just sit. I’ll be right back.”

  ***

  So far, so good, Jordan decided when she went back into the house to get the salad. Then again, it had only been ten minutes and they hadn’t eaten anything. The real test would come when Jake tried the meal. Since it marked the first time she’d ever cooked dinner for a man, Jordan figured some nerves were allowed.

  She carried a tray containing the salad and two small plates back to the patio. When she reached the door, Jake jumped up to open it for her. “Thanks.” She set the tray on the table. “For our first course tonight, we have a salad of spicy greens, cherries, prosciutto, and goat cheese,” Jordan said, trying to sound like a server in a fancy restaurant.

  “It looks delicious.” Jake spooned some of the salad onto a plate. “And so far the service is top notch, too.” He winked at Jordan. “Keep this up and you can expect a nice tip.”

  Jordan felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she filled her own plate, wondering if she could blame it on the early August Texas heat and not the gorgeous man sitting less than two feet away from her. Probably not. “Lest you think the only thing I know how to make is salads, I promise you we do have a main course.”

  Jake nodded and finished swallowing a bite. “I wasn’t worried. Something smelled absolutely delicious when I walked in, and as good as this salad is, I know it wasn’t this.”

  “No,” Jordan said. “Eat up, and you’ll soon find out what that wonderful aroma was.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Jake laughed and took a bigger bite of salad.

  A few minutes later, Jordan served her attempt at a masterpiece. It wasn’t burned, and hopefully wouldn’t require any trips to the emergency room later for a bad case of food poisoning. “For the piece de resistance, veal piccata, served with sides of garlic brie mashed potatoes and fresh, steamed asparagus.”

  Jake’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Wow. If it’s really true that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, then I think you just captured mine.”

  He was smooth, very smooth, and Jordan found herself blushing again. “Maybe you should taste it first, before you offer me your heart forever,” she teased, then proceeded to hold her breath while he sampled first the veal, then the mashed potatoes.

  “Mmm.” A contented sigh escaped his throat. “Yep, I do believe I am yours forever.” Jake took a swallow of club soda. “Damn, Jordan, you continue to amaze me. Where’d you learn to cook like this? Did you take a class or something?”

  “No class, no,” Jordan said as she filled her own plate. “And I’ve never tried this recipe before.” She tasted a bit of the veal and decided that it was, indeed, pretty darn good, if perhaps not as impressive as Jake made it out to be. “It called for a dry white wine,” she explained. “I just used extra lemon juice and chicken stock instead.”

  “I wouldn’t have known the difference if you wouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, probably not.” So many recipes called for the inclusion of wine, though, and she had to be careful. “I got the recipe from a friend who cooks with wine a lot, so I had to make some modifications. I’ll have to tell her this works fine without it.”

  “Better than fine,” Jake praised, taking another bite. “Does she live here? Your friend?”

  Jordan shook her head. “New Hampshire, actually. The partner of one of my former law school classmates,” she said.

  “And you share recipes from two thousand miles away?” Jake laughed softly. “I’m gonna guess that’s a girl thing.”

  “I guess.” Jordan shrugged. “The short version, since the long version is pretty embarrassing, is that I wasn’t in a very good place when I left California and came back here for my class reunion.”

  “Right. You mentioned that.” Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Go on.”

  Did she want to go on? “I had some amends to make as part of my recovery process. I hoped the reunion might clarify things for me, and in some ways it did, but it was also difficult.” Jordan took a drink of water, enjoying the crispness of the fresh lemon on the glass. That she no longer wished it was wine, or something stronger, was a major victory. “I almost relapsed.”

  Jake exhaled
. “Jeez, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring up bad subjects.”

  “No, it’s okay.” Jordan waved her hand. “It was okay then, too, because I found myself blessed with good friends that I maybe didn’t deserve, but who were willing to help me. Since I’d left my job in L.A. and I wasn’t sure what to do next with my life, I ended up going to New Hampshire and spending a month with Sarah and her family.” She was still grateful for the helping hand.

  “And you learned how to cook,” Jake concluded, reaching for another helping of mashed potatoes. “Very well, apparently.”

  Jordan took another bite of the veal. It really did taste good. “Kelsey’s a schoolteacher, and it was summer, so she was off work. She introduced me to cooking, and we tried out a lot of recipes. It kept me sane and kept me from craving a drink.”

  “Then I owe my thanks,” Jake said. “For helping you and for this fabulous recipe.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Jordan said. She stood up to clear the dishes, wanting something to do besides talk about an almost-relapse. “Are you ready for dessert?”

  “Maybe in a little bit,” Jake said. “How about we take a walk first?”

  ***

  Jake figured out there were some things Jordan still felt uneasy about discussing, so he didn’t press the issue, instead being content to stroll through the complex holding her hand. “This looks nice,” he said when they paused by the zero-entry pool, with its crisp blue water and a finish that resembled white sand. “Do you use it often?”

  “As often as possible. Why?”

  “No reason.” I was just trying to conjure up a mental image of you in a bikini, sunning yourself by this amazing pool. Who needed Kate Hudson and Saint Lucia, Jake wondered. At the moment, everything he wanted was right here. “So how come nobody’s ever snatched you up?” he asked.

  “What?” Was it his imagination, or did she tense when he asked? After a second, she shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m too high maintenance and I scared them all away.”

  More likely you never let anyone get close enough to scare away.

  “What about you?” she asked, changing the subject. “Handsome, charming leading man like you. How come nobody’s ever snared you? Have you ever gotten close to walking down the aisle?”

  Jake thought about Macy. She hadn’t been making any more noise for a few days, and he hoped she’d finally got the hint. “No, never.” Now it his turn to try to deflect to a more comfortable subject. “Why don’t we go back and have that dessert now?”

  They walked back to her condo and Jordan made him wait on the patio while she got the dessert out of the refrigerator. “Close your eyes,” she called out as she got to the door.

  Jake did as he was told, not even sneaking a peak until she said he could open them again. When he did, his gaze immediately drifted to table where she’d set her latest masterpiece, which resembled nothing Jake had ever seen before. On each plate was a slice of cake with a chocolate layer on the bottom and a yellow layer on top, with sauce that looked like caramel poured on top and drizzling down the sides. “And what do you call this mouth-watering delight?” he asked.

  “Flan de chocolate,” she said, affecting a Spanish accent.

  “What de chocolate?”

  “Flan.” Jordan laughed. “It’s a Mexican delicacy, and part of a very interesting local lore.”

  “What’s that?”

  “According to the locals, when a girl makes chocolate flan for a man, it’s a sign that she hopes to entice him to her bed.”

  “Oh?” Jake tried to keep his tone casual even as the mere mention of the custom caused a stirring in his groin. “Is that what you’re doing?”

  Jordan licked her lips. “How am I doing?”

  Chapter 14

  Time seemed to stand still as Jordan waited for an answer. After what seemed like an eternity, Jake closed the distance between them and touched his hand to her chin. He lowered his head and brushed his lips softly over hers.

  Jordan parted her lips, inviting further exploration, and his tongue proved willing, darting inside and beginning its dance with hers. He pulled her closer, and she relaxed against his torso, grateful for his strong arms around her to combat her weakening knees.

  “So far, so good,” Jake whispered as he pulled away, giving her bottom lip one last nibble that left her breathless. “I think I need to try that dessert, though, to really make up my mind.”

  He was a cruel man, Jordan decided, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve, too, even if she’d never tried this particular method of seduction before. She touched her finger to the plate, coating it in the cajeta, then held it up. “Ready for a taste?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Jake took her hand and raised her finger to his mouth.

  As his tongue flicked over her finger, savoring the rich sweetness of the caramel sauce, Jordan quivered in anticipation of the things his tongue could do to the rest of her body.

  “Mmm,” Jake murmured. “That’s not the regular caramel I’m used to pouring on ice cream.”

  “No. Mexican cajeta, made with goat’s milk,” Jordan explained, glad she’d decided to get the real thing. “You haven’t had the best part yet.” With a fork, she cut a piece of the delicacy, making sure it included the chocolate layer and the custard layer, as well as the sauce. She held the heaping forkful out, inviting him to taste.

  He took it all in one bite, and his eyes widened as he chewed, then swallowed. “Damn.”

  “You have a little caramel left on your lip,” Jordan said, leaning in to lick it off. She quickly deemed the dessert worth the fuss to prepare, at least if it had the desired result. So far, so good on that front, as she cast a sly glance at the growing bulge in Jake’s pants. “I guess you like it,” she said with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, but I see one potential problem with this local custom you mentioned.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “If the dessert’s this good, what if what follows can’t compare?” Jake grinned.

  Jordan cocked her head to one side. “Are you doubting me, or yourself?”

  “Never you,” Jake said. “And you’ve always brought out the best in me, so I think we’ll do okay.”

  “Good answer,” Jordan said. “And we seem to be off to a promising start.” She rubbed her hand over his crotch and felt him stiffen even more. “Maybe we should take it inside, though, rather than give my neighbors a show.”

  The chocolate flan was quickly forgotten, but it had served its purpose, anyway. Jordan led Jake to her bedroom, then closed the door behind them, banishing the cat from the room.

  “Now that you have me where you want me, what do you plan on doing with me?” Jake asked, a wicked grin forming on his face.

  “What do you think?” Jordan sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him close to her as she worked the buttons on his shirt. She ran her hands across his muscled torso, but it wasn’t where her interest lay and her hand soon gravitated lower. Jordan wasted no time, unbuttoning his pants and lowering his zipper. She knew what Jake liked, she’d been there before. “I figured things might be getting a little tight in there. Let me fix that for you.” She pushed his pants down his legs, then his boxers, finally freeing him.

  She put her hand on his cock and guided it closer. She danced her tongue around the head, tasting a drop of the pre-cum liquid that already spurted from it.

  Jake let out a soft moan. “Christ, Jordan, you could kill a man.”

  “I don’t want to kill you, just drive you wild.” To prove her point, Jordan closed her mouth around his shaft.

  Jake ran his hands through her hair, but instead of pulling her closer and pushing himself in deeper, he withdrew, causing Jordan to freeze.

  “What are you doing? Did I do something wrong?” Immediately, she hated how pathetic she sounded.

  “Oh, God, no. You did everything right, babe. You always do.” Jake put his hand to her chin and lifted it, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I may be half out of my mind, but this
time I want to make love to you the right way.”

  The words were so unlike any Jordan was used to hearing that she found herself at a loss how to respond. Usually men took what they wanted from her—and she knew bore some responsibility for giving it so willingly—with little regard for own pleasure. Yet here was Jake, rumored Hollywood playboy with whom she’d already shared some wild and reckless nights, insisting on pleasing her first, even if he did seem to be getting a little frustrated with her dress.

  “There’s a zipper,” she said.

  “Right. Zipper.” Jake made quick work of it, finally pulling the dress over her head. His eyes widened as he saw her breasts were bare underneath. “Oh, I do like the way you think,” he said, closing his mouth on one.

  Jordan’s body quivered with anticipation as Jake’s fingers and tongue explored every inch of it, touching her, tasting her, loving her like no one ever had before. There was no selfishness to his touch, and even as the urgency built, Jake never rushed, so unlike Carl or Matt or anyone else. Jordan closed her eyes, wanting to savor every second as if it were her first time. In so many ways, it felt like it was, even as memories resurfaced of the magic Jake could work with his tongue.

  Jake reached the pleasure point between her legs, teasing her with it before probing inside, taking her to the brink. He could send her over the edge this way, she didn’t doubt that, but this time, Jordan realized she, too, wanted more. She wanted him, all of him.

  “Love me, Jake, please,” she cried when she wasn’t sure she could take it any longer.

  “Oh, babe, there’s nothing I want more.” Jake moved off of her, grabbing his pants from the floor. “Just hold on.” He quickly sheathed himself with a condom. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect,” he said as entered her with both urgency and gentleness at the same time.

  Jordan arched her back and lifted her hips to welcome him deeper so they could become one. Nothing before had ever felt this right or this perfect, and Jordan knew why. As they moved together, quickly finding a matching rhythm, she knew she was home.