by Lisa Moreau
Jordan felt like she should offer to help, but she really was in a hurry, and besides Madame Butterfly still gave her the creeps.
*
Jordan slumped in a chair and rested her chin on her fist. This was the umpteenth outfit Bertha had tried on. This shopping extravaganza was getting old. Jordan looked at her watch, got up, and walked to the closed curtain of Rose’s Dress Shop.
“Are you almost done in there?” Jordan asked.
“I don’t know about this one. It’s cut awfully low,” Bertha said from behind the drape.
“Low enough to see your collarbone, cleavage, or bra?”
“Cleavage.”
“Sounds perfect. Now let’s see how you look.”
Bertha swished open the curtain. Wow. She looked amazing. Who knew Bertha had sexy curves behind all those loose, frilly aprons she wore?
“Whoa. You’re a babe. This is the one. For sure.” Jordan nodded enthusiastically.
Bertha stared into the mirror at the electric-blue dress, which hugged every inch of her body. “Are you sure this isn’t too suggestive?” She peered into the crevasse between her breasts.
Jordan stood behind Bertha, put her hands on her shoulders, and looked at her reflection. “Look at yourself and tell me you don’t look beautiful in this.”
A slow smile crept on Bertha’s face. “I do look sorta…gorgeous…don’t I?”
“If you were thirty years younger, and a lesbian, I’d be all over you.”
“Let’s plan that for the next life.” Bertha sounded completely serious, which brought a smile to Jordan’s lips.
“It’s a date. Now let’s get out of here or we’ll miss your hair appointment.”
After purchasing the dress, Jordan drove them to Tallon. No way was she letting Bertha go to her normal hairdresser and end up with another Aqua Net, teased rat’s nest. Jordan had even convinced her to get an updated style, so when Bertha was sitting in the salon chair the hairdresser didn’t have too much of a battle when she started cutting.
Jordan was flipping through a magazine in the waiting area when Bertha came out. She did a double take with her mouth agape. Bertha looked twenty years younger with a cute, sassy, casual cut. She seriously would not have recognized her.
“Oh. My. God. You look incredible. Do you like it?”
“No…I love it!” Bertha shook her head vigorously. “Look, I can do this, and it actually moves and still looks good afterward.”
Jordan stifled a giggle. “Bertha, I swear you’ll have the coach’s eyes popping out of his head.”
Bertha twisted around like a giddy schoolgirl. Seeing her so excited lightened Jordan’s heart. They drove back to Monarch in silence, apparently both drained from the day’s activities. She hadn’t expected it to take so long and was disappointed she didn’t get to see Sophie. Jordan wondered if she’d look needy and codependent if she offered to get together tonight. Maybe she could bribe her with some Chinese takeout. Sophie loved fortune cookies. When they stopped for a bathroom break at the Big Five Truck Stop, Jordan propped herself against the chip rack and sent Sophie a text.
Hi. How was your day?
There was a response in twenty seconds. Lonely.
Excellent news. Not because Jordan was mean, but because she knew she was a shoo-in.
Maybe I could help you rectify that.
I’m sure you could. Where are you?
Driving back from Tallon, but I could stop by with some Chinese, wine…and my lips.
Jordan mentally patted herself on the back. She was pretty good at this flirting stuff.
Reverse the order of that list and you’re on.
Jordan really needed to stop grinning so much. Burly truckers were beginning to stare.
It’s a date.
Jordan stared at her phone, anxiously awaiting a response. She waited…and waited…but nothing came. Maybe she’d gone too far with the date comment. They hadn’t actually verbalized that they were going out, but what else could it be? Dinner and sex constituted dating, didn’t it? Not that she expected to have sex again, but Sophie did indicate that there would be kissing. What else could you do with lips aside from that? Well, okay, lots of things, but Jordan was pretty sure Sophie was referring to kissing. She was probably just being paranoid. Maybe Sophie had something to do or was heading home. Excitement rippled through her body when her phone dinged.
Hurry.
Phew, relief washed over Jordan. Another message immediately popped up.
But drive safe! I don’t want anything crushing my fortune cookie.
Beautiful and witty. What a combo.
Chapter Twenty-five
Horror-Scopes
The great thing about living in a city of almost four million people is that you rarely run into someone you don’t want to see. In Monarch, not so much.
Jordan was standing at Yui’s Spicy Palace impatiently tapping the counter, waiting for her order and thinking about Sophie’s lips, when she heard a voice that sent shivers down her spine.
“I figured that was your Jag parked outside.” Nanci was wearing a gold blazer, navy shirt, black knit pants, and holding a leather binder with the name of her company, Chrysalis, engraved in gold. She was in full real-estate mode and all business.
“Oh, hey, Nanci.”
“I saw you and Sophie at the picnic but didn’t get a chance to say hi. You two looked cozy.”
Awkward. The last time Jordan saw Nanci she was giving her the green light to ask Sophie out. “Yeah, about that. We weren’t together when I said you could ask her out, but we seem to have hooked up New Year’s Eve.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I’m happy for you.”
Except Nanci didn’t sound happy. The sharp, curt tone in her voice, pursed lips, and twitch in her left eye tipped Jordan off.
Nanci opened the binder, slipped out a stack of stapled papers, and shoved it at Jordan. “Here’s the contract I promised you.” Jordan gaped at the documents. “The purchasing agreement to sell your land.”
“Oh, right, of course.” Jordan grabbed the contract and flipped through the pages. “It’s thick.”
“I’d suggest you read it over first and then get Mr. Simms to take a look. You or he can let me know if you have any questions. Also, I’d like to set up a meeting with the Kelstrom executives. What works for you?” Jordan was staring at the contract, not reading, just staring. “Jordan? When can you meet with Kelstrom?”
“What? Oh, let me check my calendar and get back to you.”
“You can’t keep them waiting too long,” Nanci said, in a scolding manner that left Jordan feeling like a five-year-old.
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, right.”
Nanci started to walk away before she turned and said, “Tell Sophie I said hi.” Her eye twitched erratically. She should probably get that looked at.
Jordan stood in Yui’s with the scent of spicy Kung Pao in the air and read the first paragraph of the contract. This was really going to happen. She was about to sell the sanctuary and be a millionaire. This was everything she wanted…so why wasn’t she more excited?
*
Jordan pulled up to Sophie’s cabin and stuffed the contract into her backpack, deep into her backpack. The last thing she needed was Sophie finding that particular piece of literature. They’d have to talk about things sooner or later, but Jordan was all for later. She still had a month left in Monarch to sort things out.
Jordan stood in the doorway, hypnotized, unable to do anything but stare. Sophie looked beautiful with clear blue eyes that resembled a perfect, cloudless day; glowing porcelain complexion; and a look of anticipation and joy. She was wearing the Venice Beach sweatshirt Jordan had given her when they drove back from Big Sur. It looked a hundred times better on her than it did on Jordan.
“Well, hello.” Sophie’s voice was low and sexy, almost a growl. She inhaled slowly and momentarily closed her eyes. “Mmm…that smells so good. Thanks for bringing dinner.” She rose on her tiptoes, kissed Jordan’s cheek, and lin
gered, which had Jordan’s pulse racing. “But it isn’t the Chinese food that smells so good. It’s you.”
Jordan gulped. “It’s vanilla spice. They were giving out samples at the salon.”
“My favorite combo.” Sophie nuzzled Jordan’s neck before placing another kiss on her cheek. “Get in here.” She pulled Jordan into the cabin and led her to the kitchen.
They opened cartons of steamed rice, noodles, spring rolls, and sweet-and-sour pork. Jordan eyed Sophie as she gathered two glasses and a bottle of red wine. “You look adorable in my sweatshirt.”
Sophie glanced down, as though she’d forgotten what she was wearing. “Hope you don’t mind. It’s quite comfy.”
Jordan took the wine out of Sophie’s hand, placed it on the table, and pulled her close. “Well, it is my favorite sweatshirt.”
“Do you want me to take it off?” Sophie asked with a smirk.
Heat crept up Jordan’s neck at the thought of Sophie in nothing but her bra. “What I want is for you to keep it and think about me when you wear it. And absolutely take it off later.”
Jordan placed a lingering kiss on Sophie’s lips. They both released a contented sigh when they broke apart.
“I missed those lips, that tongue, those eyes, that skin.” Jordan ran her hands up and down Sophie’s arms. They held each other’s gaze until Sophie averted her eyes downward.
“It’s scary how much I missed you,” Sophie whispered.
Jordan lifted Sophie’s chin. “Why scary?”
“Just…you know.”
Unfortunately, Jordan did know. Just because they hadn’t discussed the fate of the sanctuary didn’t mean it wasn’t always there, between them, like a pink, polka-dot elephant in the room they tiptoed around.
“Let’s just take one day at a time, okay?” Jordan kissed the tip of Sophie’s nose. Feeling the need to lighten the mood, she said, “I have a present for you. Do you want it now or later?”
Sophie’s face lit up. “Are you kidding? Now, woman.”
“Don’t move.” Jordan ran into the living room, grabbed an envelope stuffed in the pocket of her jacket, and returned to the kitchen.
“What is it?” Sophie took the envelope.
“You have to open it, silly.”
Sophie ripped open the envelope, never taking her eyes off Jordan. She unfolded the paper, looked at it, and tilted her head to one side. “What’s the Friends of Elk Mountain Reservation?” Sophie looked at Jordan with a half-smile.
“Well, you know Ophelia. She runs a charity that specializes in different causes, and I persuaded her to include the Native American reservation in her next event. They raise a lot of money, and to start things off I donated a thousand dollars in your name.”
Sophie placed a hand over her heart. “Oh my God. You did that?”
“They really need it, and…I dunno…everyone was so nice, and the kids were so freaking cute.”
“I think I might cry. This is so generous and thoughtful. Thank you.” Sophie wrapped her arms around Jordan.
“You’re welcome. It’s a belated Christmas present.”
Sophie released Jordan and looked into her eyes. “It’s the best thing you could have ever given me.”
Jordan smiled and gave Sophie a quick kiss. “I’m glad you love it. Now how about let’s eat? I’m starving.”
They sat close together, each grabbing bites with chopsticks out of the containers. After Sophie poured the wine, they clinked glasses before taking a sip.
“So how was makeover day?” Sophie asked.
Jordan pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket. “Take a look at this.” She displayed a photo of Bertha with her newly styled hairdo.
“Oh my God. She looks ten years younger!”
Jordan’s lips curled into a smile. “She wanted me to take a shot to show you. And you should see the dress she got. She looks hot.”
“You’re so sweet to help her out.” Sophie looked at Jordan, adoringly. “What’s so funny?” she asked, when Jordan chuckled.
“I don’t think anyone has ever called me sweet before. I can be a ruthless businesswoman, you know. A real hard-ass when I need to be.”
“I know you’re very successful, but you have a good heart. That’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”
Jordan froze with a spring roll balanced between chopsticks in midair. The room felt suddenly thick and humid, like New Orleans in July, and so quiet she could practically hear Mr. Limpet swish through the water in the next room.
“Did I just say that out loud?” Sophie looked like she’d just stuck her finger in a mousetrap.
It was now or never, the moment of truth. What Jordan said in the next few moments would dictate their future. She could run away as she was accustomed to doing, or she could open her heart to someone for the first time in her life. Gazing at the Disney Princess, Jordan knew which path she’d take. She lowered the spring roll and laid her palm over Sophie’s tightly clenched fist.
“I think…no, I know, I’ve been in love with you from the first moment we met,” Jordan said. “Sophie Opal Sanders, you’re the love of my life, my one and only soul mate.”
Sophie’s eyes immediately filled with tears as she threw her arms around Jordan’s neck. When they broke apart, they were both giggling, probably to release nervous tension.
Sophie dabbed her eyes with a napkin. “I’d hoped so much that you felt the same way, but I wasn’t sure,” she said through a stuffy nose.
Jordan cupped Sophie’s chin. “You’re the reason I started SOS. If I couldn’t be with my soul mate, I wanted to help others find theirs. In the past ten years, no other woman has come close to comparing to you…and no one ever will.”
“I love you so much, Jordan. You’re my heart.” Sophie leaned over and kissed Jordan tenderly. When they parted, she stayed close and looked into Jordan’s eyes. “Do you know what I want to do right now?”
“Hmmm…watch The Incredible Mr. Limpet?”
Sophie smirked and shook her head.
“Talk to the butterflies?”
She shook her head again.
“I know! You want to open fortune cookies.”
Sophie started to shake her head, but then stopped and looked at the cookies on the table. “Well, actually I do. But after that I want to take you into my bedroom and show you how much you mean to me.”
Waves of warmth cascaded from Jordan’s chest down to her toes. She grabbed the fortune cookies and let Sophie pick which one she wanted. Sophie tore into the package, cracked open the treat, and read the fortune. She frowned and cocked her head.
“Not good?” Jordan asked.
“Well. Weird. It says the fortune you seek is in another cookie.”
Jordan snickered and handed Sophie the other package.
“But that’s yours.”
“I’ll live. And besides, this one belongs to you.”
Sophie ripped the plastic and pulled out the white slip of paper. She drew her eyebrows together and clenched her jaw. The sour look on her face made Jordan suddenly uneasy.
“What’s it say, Soph?”
“Some fortune cookies contain no fortune.”
“Huh. Well, you can’t trust something in a cookie. It’s not like it’s a psychic prediction.”
“No. But my horoscope is.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was eerily disturbing this morning.”
“Read it to me. Is that the newspaper?” Jordan stretched and grabbed the Monarch Messenger off the kitchen counter.
Sophie pushed the paper aside. “Let’s forget about it.”
Jordan squinted, her curiosity rising by the minute. She snatched the paper and flipped to the horoscopes as Sophie winced.
Jordan read, “A high-intensity relationship will take a turn for the worse, dear Pisces. Passions and emotions will be strong as a power struggle ensues. This could lead to profound healing or a complete disintegration of the relationship.” Jordan paused and re
ad it again, silently. “This isn’t us, you know.”
“I know,” Sophie said, much too quickly. “I don’t live by my horoscope, but Madame Butterfly is rarely wrong.” She got up, carried their glasses to the sink, and rinsed them out.
Jordan rose and stood close behind, wrapping her arms around Sophie’s waist. She rested her chin on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Do you believe that love conquers all?”
Sophie paused before she turned to face Jordan. “I’m not sure. Do you?”
Jordan nodded. “I do. All that matters is that we love each other.”
Sophie relaxed. “You’re right. As long as we have love, trust, and honesty, we can handle anything that’s thrown our way.”
Inwardly, Jordan grimaced at the thought of the contract in her backpack. She considered telling Sophie about her plans but quickly pushed that notion aside. Instead, she took Sophie’s hand and led her to the bedroom. Making love that night felt different than the first time they were together. The passion burned as strong as before, but peace replaced the nervousness. There was a moment―when they were as physically and emotionally close as two people can possibly get―when Jordan felt such love and affection that it literally took her breath away. It was the moment when Sophie looked into her eyes and whispered, “I love you. With all my heart, I love you.” Jordan’s eyes stung with tears, not of sorrow, but from indescribable joy.
After hours of pleasuring each other, Jordan lay awake with Sophie in her arms. She wasn’t the praying type, but that night she recited a silent prayer. It was a desperate plea from the heart that what she’d told Sophie was true―that love did indeed conquer all.
Chapter Twenty-six
Dinner at Seven
How could one look at Jordan make Sophie’s heart skip a beat? She was all jittery inside, nervous and excited at the same time. She spotted Jordan walking down the sidewalk, talking on her cell phone. They were meeting at Bertha’s for a Saturday lunch, but mostly to get the scoop on her hot date with the coach. Sophie rested a shoulder against a light pole and admired the view. Jordan wore fitted black yoga pants and a neon-green jacket. Even from this distance, Sophie could see that her shirt swooped low, revealing beautiful smooth skin. Jordan was probably discussing work, considering her purposeful stride and serious expression. When she spotted Sophie, she broke out in a wide smile.
