For the First Time (One Strike Away #$)

by Mary J. Williams

  The picture they presented was temporary. Tomorrow, Jordyn would be gone, taking the dog with her. And Murphy would return to his solitary existence—the way he preferred.

  But for now. For today. He would enjoy their company.

  Spotting him, Jordyn waved, a bright smile of welcome on her lips. Murphy felt a wave of wanting like a punch to his gut. Unexpectedly intense. He wouldn't push himself on her. If something happened beyond dinner and conversation, the first move would have to be hers.

  Returning her wave, Murphy smiled as he said a silent prayer.

  Please, please, please, Jordyn. Make your move. Because, honey. I'm a sure thing.

  ● ≈ ● ≈ ●

  JORDYN TOOK THE chicken and noodle casserole from the oven, setting the ceramic dish next to a plate of freshly baked cookies. She liked to cook but seldom had the time. When she had friends over, the meals she prepared ran from simple to elaborate—depending on her mood or the occasion.

  More often—since the idea of putting a meal together for one rarely held any appeal—Jordyn settled for dining at one of the small neighborhood restaurants dotting the street outside her townhouse.

  As a guest in Murphy's home, she wanted to pay him back with something home cooked. And since he lived alone and—if the contents of his freezer were any indication—survived on soup and steak, she made enough to enjoy one casserole tonight, and freeze the other for future consumption.

  "How long was I gone?" Murphy asked.

  "More than long enough for me to throw together a simple meal."

  "When I try to cook, every surface is a mess." He glanced at the gleaming kitchen. "I toil for hours. And, the results never smell this good."

  Jordyn smiled, drying her hands as Murphy leaned close to the still-warm cookies, breathing deeply.

  "Chocolate chip?"

  "My brother's favorite. I've made so many over the years, I know the recipe by heart."

  "I always buy them at the—"

  "Farmer's Market?" Jordyn finished for him.

  Murphy shrugged, a twinkle in his blue eyes.

  "They have everything I need. Besides, even if I knew how to bake, I didn't realize I had the stuff you needed. Did you conjure the ingredients out of thin air?"

  "Flour, sugar, butter, eggs. The basics. Though you really need to buy some fresh baking soda. The stuff you have worked, but the sell-by date expired around the turn of the century." Noticing the way Murphy eyed the cookies, she moved them out of his reach. "After dinner."

  "Big boys can have dessert anytime they want."

  And he was a very big boy indeed. She stood five feet nine in her stocking feet and had grown up in a household filled with men who easily topped six feet.

  However, Murphy—with his broad shoulders and muscled physique—stood at least six feet five. For the first time in her life, Jordyn felt almost delicate in comparison.

  "You don't want any of my mother's world-famous casserole?"

  "I think I can handle both." Murphy took a couple of plates from the cupboard.

  He moves with grace, Jordyn thought as she finished tossing a simple green salad. Without the awkwardness often associated with men his size. When the puppy tried her best to get underfoot, Murphy easily went to one knee, picked her up, and carried her around as he finished setting the table.

  Part gentle giant, part surly bear, part…? Jordyn didn't know Murphy well enough to fill in the blank. However, she was certain he was much more than he seemed on the surface.

  Jordyn didn't want to spend the short time they had grilling him with hundreds of questions. Perhaps he would answer. Or not. Murphy didn't seem particularly interested in her life story. However, if she started the ball rolling, he might feel obliged to make a few inquiries of his own.

  Secrets weren't a part of Jordyn's life. With a few—my love life is none of your business—exceptions, to those closest to her, she was an open book. Whatever Murphy might have to hide? Honestly, she didn't want to know.

  All Jordyn wanted was a bit of fun. An unforgettable memory made with an unforgettable man.

  "I have a confession to make."

  Oh, come on. Jordyn thought she and Murphy were on the same page. All of a sudden, he wanted to spill his guts? Thanks, but no thanks.

  "Find a priest."

  "Not that kind of confession," Murphy chuckled. "I don't have a phone—which is the truth. But in my basement is a CB radio."

  "I know."

  "You do?"

  Murphy looked confused—and cute as all get out.

  "Before I started dinner, I took a walk. That way." She nodded west. "Imagine my surprise when I checked and found I had cell service."

  "Ah."

  "Ah, indeed." Jordyn raised an enquiring eyebrow, though her next words were a statement, not a question. "You knew."

  "Yes," Murphy said, guilt written all over his face.

  Deciding to let him squirm a bit longer, Jordyn kept a stern expression.

  "The first thing I did was call my parents." She couldn't resist digging the metaphorical dagger in a bit further. "Mom and Dad tend to worry when they can't get in touch."

  "Jordyn—"

  "Then, I called the garage. Imagine my surprise when Mick informed me he already knew about my accident. And, the tow truck will be out to pick up my SUV in the morning."

  "I—"

  "Naturally," Jordyn interrupted Murphy again. She was having too much fun to let him off the hook. "I asked how he could know. You led me to believe we couldn't get in touch with anybody. You know what Mick told me?"

  "I have a fairly innovative idea," Murphy muttered.

  "Your neighbor—Zeke Townsend—called Mick hours ago. On his phone. After you asked him to." Jordyn paused for dramatic effect. "On your CB radio. Shall we eat before our dinner gets cold?"

  Murphy surprised her by holding out her chair at the dining room table. She thought only the men in her family still performed such gentlemanly gestures.

  "I'm surprised you came back," Murphy said as he took his seat.

  "I might have kept walking. Or asked General Townsend to drive me into town."

  "You spoke with Zeke?"

  "Surprised?"

  "A little. Though at this point I shouldn't be." Obviously bemused, Murphy met her gaze. "You’re a very resourceful woman. Smart. Sharp as a freaking tack."

  Jordyn felt a warm glow that had nothing to do with sexual awareness or desire. Murphy's words meant more than any flowery compliment he might use to praise her physical attributes. Resourceful. Smart. Sharp. She'd liked him before. Now. Wow. Simply wow.

  "I already knew Mick. He gave you a thumb's up. Told me your neighbor is the real deal. A true American hero. General Townsend called you his friend. Said you're trustworthy."

  "What else did Zeke tell you?" Murphy asked cautiously.

  Jordyn took a bite of salad, chewing thoughtfully. Murphy didn't seem worried—exactly. Obviously, General Townsend knew something, and her host wanted to know how many beans his friend been spilled.

  "His exact words were, 'I would trust Murphy with my daughter's life.' Quite the endorsement. So, I turned back. Made a batch of cookies. Threw together dinner. And still had time to lounge by the lake with our sweet-faced doggy friend."

  "Zeke said that? He'd trust me with his daughter's life?"

  Surprise was the first emotion Jordyn saw flash across Murphy's face. Pride? Pleasure? And a flush of…? Discomfort? Interesting. Just as she thought. Waters ran deep under all that hair and buff muscles.

  "He did." Murphy cleaned his plate, the last bite hardly in his mouth before he loaded up on a second helping. A move that gave Jordyn a burst of pleasure. "Why did you want to keep me here?"

  "I felt like some company. No." Murphy set down his fork, focusing his undivided attention on her. "Not some company. Your company. I like talking to you, Jordyn." He grinned—slowly. "I like looking at you. Why did you c
ome back?"

  "You have a comfortable home. Much better than a night in a random hotel. I was assured—by two sources—that you're trustworthy. I like talking to you."

  "And…?"

  "Didn't your mother ever teach not to fish for compliments?" Jordyn teased.

  "My mother—good woman that she is—tried her best to teach me many things. To her sorrow—and my detriment—I proceeded to ignore her for the first thirty-odd years of my life." His smile gone, Murphy stood. "For the last two, I've tried to do better."

  Jordyn almost broke her earlier vow not to pry into Murphy's past. But she sensed he wouldn't appreciate any questions. When he reached for her plate, she placed her hand over his.

  "I like to look at you, too. With your clothes. And without."

  Just as Jordyn hoped, her mention of Murphy naked brought back his smile. A nice smile. Sigh inducing. Like the rest of him, mouth watering as hell.

  "Ready for dessert?" Murphy asked, biting into a cookie.

  Jordyn watched as he licked a crumb from his bottom lip. Chocolate chips as foreplay. Oh, boy. Mentally, she fanned herself. She had a good idea how they would end the evening. But a little chocolate chip cookie foreplay?

  "Sounds good to me."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ● ≈ ● ≈ ●

  STRETCHED OUT IN his favorite chair, legs reaching towards the roaring fire, Murphy rested his head on the soft upholstery, eyes closed. The puppy—tummy full, bladder empty—was content to lie on her back, her sharp baby teeth gnawing at the end of his thick sock.

  "Watch the toes, little one."

  "You need to give her a name."

  Murphy opened one eye. He'd insisted on taking care of the dishes, but when he finished, Jordyn had pushed him out of the kitchen, intent on making the counters shine. Apparently satisfied with her efforts, she joined him in the living room, taking a seat on the sofa.

  The dark, glossy hair Jordyn had piled on top of her head sat off center, messy wisps falling around her face. Without a trace of makeup. Dressed in a baggy long-sleeved t-shirt, faded jeans, and a pair of his gray work socks. At the moment, she wasn't exactly cover girl ready.

  But the perfection of a cover girl was mostly smoke, mirrors, and expert photoshopping.

  Jordyn didn't need hours of primping and pampering. She glowed. Her clear, creamy skin. Her dark green eyes. The way one corner of her lips curved into a half smile before the rest of her mouth followed.

  In his wilder days, Murphy knew a lot of women. Many, many. Casually and intimately. Ones who were hailed as the great beauties of their day. The first time he'd seen Jordyn, he thought she would fit right in with the best of the best.

  However, at this moment? Those other women couldn't begin to hold a candle to her.

  The puppy chose that moment to bite his big toe.

  "You're pretty cute, too." Murphy laughed, lifting her onto his lap.

  "Well?" Jordyn asked. "What are you going to call her?"

  "Why me? You found her."

  "We both know she'd be better off here with you. All this land for her to run around? Puppy heaven. All I can offer is a walk to the park once a day."

  Murphy scratched the puppy's tummy as he considered Jordyn's words. Despite how well she fit in around here, she had sophisticated city girl written all over her. She didn't belong in the mountains, far away from civilization.

  Realizing where his thoughts were headed, Murphy put on the brakes. He and Jordyn barely knew each other. They didn't share a past. They would never have a future.

  Live in the here and now, Murphy.

  "I suppose you're right." Murphy chuckled when he noticed the dog was already asleep, her little legs sticking straight up in the air. "Even if somebody shows up to claim her, thinking of something to call her other than 'the puppy' won't hurt."

  "Good." Jordyn stood. "I think I'll take a shower."

  "Need any help?"

  Murphy waited. He gave an opening. Would she jump through, or slam the door in his face?

  Jordyn paused, her green gaze enigmatic.

  "I think I can handle the job alone."

  "There are extra towels in the cupboard outside the bathroom," he called out as Jordyn jogged up the stairs.

  Need any help? Murphy rolled his eyes. Smooth line. For a second, he thought Jordyn might laugh in his face. He wasn't sure he would have blamed her.

  He could sit and fantasize about what Jordyn was up to in his guest room. Or, he could stop acting like a hormone-riddled teenager and do something productive.

  Murphy tucked the sleeping puppy in the crook of his arm, heading for the garage where he found a small cardboard box. He added a fluffy towel before settling the dog inside. She blinked once and yawned, before dropping back to sleep.

  "You can sleep in my room for tonight. But not on my bed. Understand?"

  The puppy let out a soft snort.

  "I'm serious. If you're going to stay, we need to set some rules. I don't have an exact list. But number one? You have your bed, I have mine."

  Murphy set the box just inside his bathroom door, a bowl of water nearby, then tiptoed away, into the hall.

  "Is she asleep?" Jordyn asked as she walked from her room wearing a thick terrycloth robe. Her hair was hidden from his view by a turban-style twisted towel.

  "For now. Though I don't know how long she'll stay that way. Puppies don't like to be alone—from what I understand."

  "Here." Jordyn held out her phone. "Put this on something out of her reach."

  Murphy frowned when he heard the sound of a clock. Then—as he caught on—he grinned.

  "The ticking acts as a simulation of her mother's heartbeat."

  "Exactly." Jordyn nodded.

  "Thanks." Murphy gently closed the door after he'd deposited the phone near the puppy.

  "There's an app for everything these days."

  Murphy hadn't downloaded as much as his electricity bill in the past two years. He wasn't exactly off the grid. However, he'd happily left behind the internet plus the craziness attached.

  "How about a little quid pro quo?" Jordyn looked at him over her shoulder as she started down the stairs.

  "What did you have in mind?" Murphy asked. The gleam in her eyes stirred his hope. And a certain part of his anatomy.

  Jordyn stopped, her back to the fire. Reaching up, she removed the towel, her hair falling past her shoulders. Red highlights glistened, popping from the slightly damp tresses.

  "I have a major phobia about ticks," she explained. "After my walk through the woods, I won't sleep a wink unless I check every inch of my body. Unfortunately, some places are a bit difficult for me to reach."

  Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound of Murphy's heart when he realized Jordyn wanted to play a little game. Winners all around.

  "Where would you like me to start?"

  As Jordyn lightly rubbed her chin with the pad of her thumb, she pointed to his chair.

  "I'll sit in front of you. You can run your fingers through my hair. In case I missed something."

  Lips twitching, Murphy took her hand, lowering her to the floor. Of all the hundreds of times he'd sat in his favorite chair. Enjoying the fire. Or the view out his windows, tonight—with Jordyn settled between his legs, his fingers touching her impossibly soft hair—made those other times pale in comparison.

  Murphy touched her scalp, his fingertips light but thorough. Jordyn sighed, her head falling back.

  "Wonderful."

  "You smell like a spring garden," Murphy said as his lips brushed her ear.

  "All natural is always best. I'll leave behind the shampoo and conditioner."

  The last thing Murphy wanted was for Jordyn to remind him that tomorrow, she'd be gone. So, he pushed the thought out of his head, breathing deeply. To remember.

  "The scent of flowers and manly men don't mix," he teased. Her gentle laugh, his reward.

  "Men are at their m
anliest when they aren't afraid to embrace their feminine side. However, I agree. You aren't the roses and lavender type. Luckily, I always carry several options. Citrus I think. Unless you're opposed to smelling like a lemon."

  At the moment, she could have doused him with Chanel No. 5, and he wouldn't have blinked. He was too busy taking his first taste of Jordyn. The curve of her ear. The side of her neck.

  "Take off your robe."

  Just saying the words made the breath catch in his throat. When Jordyn rose to her knees, her hands going to the tie around her waist, Murphy waited, his mouth suddenly dry.

  One arm came free, then the other.

  The dancing fire caught the twinkle in Jordyn's deep-green eyes as she lay on the deep-pile rug that ran between Murphy and the stone hearth. Face down, the robe dipped to the small of her back—no lower.

  "My back is the hardest spot for me to check on my own."

  Murphy breathed deeply. In. Out. In. Out. Jordyn sent him a provocative, knowing smile. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, her head turned his way, cheek pillowed on her arms.

  All evening, Murphy had waited—his patience tested mightily—for Jordyn to make the first move. If she wanted to seduce him with a slow, torturous tease, he didn't mind. However, she needed to realize he could give as good as he got.

  "Give me a second." Standing, Murphy pulled his shirt over his head. "Kind of hot in here."

  Biting her lower lip, Jordyn watched as he continued to disrobe until all that remained were his low-riding jeans. When he took a step toward her, her smile invited him even closer.

  "And getting hotter by the second," she whispered.

  "So soft." Murphy touched Jordyn's shoulder, his mouth following their path. "Warm. Sweet."

  Jordyn arched her back, her sighs of pleasure spurring on his every move. All pretense of where they were headed evaporated the second Murphy slid his fingers under her robe, caressing the gentle swell of her butt. He moved the garment lower, revealing every inch of her ivory skin to his gaze.

  Murphy kissed the backs of her long shapely legs, down to her feet. He smiled when, as he licked her calf, Jordyn's toes curled—a sure signal she wanted more.