"Do you have any questions?" he asked after a long and very satisfying kiss.
"Probably." Jordyn wound her arms around Murphy's neck. "But not off the top of my head. I'll write them down as they come to me and get back to you."
"Sounds fair." Murphy paused. "Earlier, I had a question for you."
Jordyn didn't know what to think. They were lovers. But should they date? The idea was appealing. Everything about Murphy appealed to her. Except…
"Don't give me an answer now. When I get back from the road trip will be soon enough. Speaking of which, I have to go."
The impulse to tug Murphy back into bed with her was so strong, Jordyn gripped the sheet with both hands. Two weeks was hardly a lifetime. She would miss him, but the time apart would give her a chance to think. Something she had a tough time doing when her body was wrapped around his.
Head resting on her pulled-up knees, Jordyn watched as Murphy fastened his jeans. She might be confused about where they were headed, but one thing she knew without a doubt.
"If I say no, the reason has nothing to do with your past."
"Baseball, huh?"
Jordyn nodded.
"Are you opposed to the game in general? Or just the men who wear the uniforms?"
"Baseball is the Kraig family religion. Don't get me wrong, my parents raised us to believe in God. But from opening day until the last pitch of the season, Sunday meant hot dogs and scorecards, not bibles and pulpits."
Murphy chuckled. "Sounds good to me."
"We had a great time. I was crazy for the game. Devoted. I even played for a while."
"Really?" Murphy sounded intrigued. "Which position."
"Pitcher." When he raised a surprised eyebrow, Jordyn bristled the same way she did when anybody doubted her. "I was damn good, fella. Damn fastball was my undoing. But I had my out pitch. I bet I could get you to swing and miss at my slider."
"Just a second while I step over the metaphorical gauntlet you just threw at my feet." Murphy didn't step, he hopped toward the bed. "Challenge accepted."
With a firm pump, Jordyn shook his hand as her old competitive spirit kicked in.
"Good grip. Nice muscle tone." Murphy ran a hand over Jordyn's bicep. "You might get a ball by me." His voice dropped to a sexy growl. "Or, I might knock the cover off."
"You sure you want to find out?" Jordyn placed her hand on Murphy's flat stomach. Slowly, her eyes locked with his, her caress moved lower. "Are you sure your ego can handle the bruise when I blow one past you?"
The heat in Murphy's eyes made Jordyn wish they had more time to play. But she would take what she could get. And from the feel of him in her hand, she would get plenty.
"My ego doesn't bruise easily," Murphy assured her. "How about yours?"
With a shrug, Jordyn slowly unzipped his jeans.
"I'll make you a deal. However, our little encounter turns out? I'll kiss yours if you kiss mine."
Grinning, Murphy tumbled her onto the bed, her sheet and his jeans quickly melted away.
"You're on. But as any athlete knows, we really should get some practice in ahead of time."
"I thought you had to leave." Jordyn's laugh turned to a sigh as Murphy's lips found the side of her neck.
"I have time." Murphy leaned over her, his blue eyes the color of a molten sky. "You'll be amazed by what I can accomplish in five minutes."
"Only five?" The kiss Jordyn gave Murphy was a slow, sexy promise.
"I might be able to manage ten." Murphy groaned when she bit his earlobe. "Okay, fifteen. But thirty minutes is my absolute limit. By the way?"
"Never mind the conversation. Get hopping and pleasure me, Baldwin. You're on the clock."
"I can do both."
"Fine." Jordyn rolled her eyes, her sigh exaggerated. "By the way…?"
"You don't want to date a baseball player. But in case you forgot, my contract is only until the end of the season. After October, I won't be a baseball player anymore."
Jordyn's eyes widened. Murphy was right. She had forgotten.
"Well, well," she said.
Murphy grinned. "Have the dating scales tipped in my direction?"
"Maybe. Probably. I'll tell you in two weeks." Absolutely, Jordyn added silently. But she still had a lot to consider. "Now, shut up and kiss me. The clock is ticking."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
● ≈ ● ≈ ●
CUSTOMERS CROWDED THE store with an enthusiastic attitude. From the moment the doors opened, the carefully designed space had been filled with a non-stop flow of bodies. Through marketing and word of mouth, they came to check out what the newly opened downtown Periwinkle had to offer. Even better, they came to buy.
"Congratulations. I'd say you have another success on your hands."
Claire Thornton clicked her glass of complimentary champagne against Jordyn's. Dressed in a summery light-pink silk sheath, her blond hair flowed down her back in a simple ponytail. Claire looked like what she was. Beautiful. Blissfully happy. And one of the most successful young business women in the city.
Jordyn straightened the neckline of her cream-colored blouse. The knee-length skirt in a complementary shade of teal was chic as well as practical. Perfect for greeting customers, rummaging around the storage room, and guaranteed to look almost as crisp and fresh as when she'd left home at the crack of dawn.
"We keep restocking your shelves. I don't know if we have enough to last the day," Jordyn said with pride.
"Music to my ears," Claire said with a bright laugh. "I have two growing children to feed and clothe. Not to mention a soon to be out-of-work husband to support."
Jordyn almost spewed her wine across the room.
"What did you say?" She pulled Claire aside and into her office, away from eavesdropping customers. "Logan Price is going to retire from football? The Logan Price?"
"You say his name as if he were some kind of otherworldly being instead of the man who, just last week, you sat across from at dinner."
"When I visit your house, Logan is just a man. A good friend. However," Jordyn shrugged. "When I think about what he means to Seattle football. To the entire NFL. I can't imagine the game without him."
With a wry grimace, Claire held a finger to her lips. "I'm not supposed to say anything. Nobody knows. Yet. If Logan asks, I'll blame the champagne. He knows I'm a lightweight drinker. Evidence? Baby boy number two."
Head spinning, Jordyn sank onto the small sofa. She pulled Claire down beside her.
"Nobody knows? Not even Riley?"
Riley Preston, their mutual friend, and owner of the Seattle Knights football team knew everything. Literally. At least in Jordyn's opinion. In her early thirties and a woman to boot, she had to be sharper than anybody else to survive in what was still an older, male-dominated industry.
"After Logan injured his knee during his rookie season, he thought his career was over. His second chance was unexpected." A smile curved Claire's lips. "Borrowed time. His words, not mine. Now, he wants to go out on his terms. Not because he lost a step or his body gave out. Simply because he's ready."
As she listened to Claire, Jordyn had a sudden realization. For her entire adult life, she'd known with rock-solid certainty she didn't want to date an athlete. Yet somehow, the women closest to her—including her best friend—were either married or engaged to men who made their living playing professional sports.
Jordyn didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Either way, the irony wasn't lost on her.
"I know I can trust you not to tell anybody," Claire said, unaware of Jordyn's musings.
"My lips are sealed." Jordyn hesitated. "Claire. Are you ever sorry you married a football player?"
"I understand what you mean, Jordyn." Claire patted her hand. "But I can tell you how I feel."
"Okay."
"I would have married Logan if he dug ditches. Or sang opera. In other words, I married the man, not the football player. Understan
d?"
"So, the whole thing boils down to love."
Jordyn hadn't meant to sneer. But love was such a mystifying concept. Especially for a woman who thought she might be close to the emotion but wasn't sure if she was ready—or even wanted—to fall.
"Wrong."
"What?" Jordyn wasn't sure she heard correctly.
Claire laughed, but the sympathy in her eyes softened her reaction.
"Love is supposedly the be all and end all." Claire dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. "You can love somebody who isn't good for you. Happens all the time. In my experience, relationships based solely on what the heart wants, rarely last. Look at fairy tales. Ten years down the road, how many of those couples do you think still lived happily ever after?"
"How did you get so smart?" Jordyn asked, amazed and impressed.
"Time. Experience. Good friends. And an even better man."
"Murphy is a good man. But…"
"Murphy Baldwin." Claire looked almost smug. "I figured all your questions were because of him."
"I'll never get where you are."
"Sure, you will." Claire hugged her close. "If not with Murphy, then with someone else. Blue will tell you. Though she still has a lot to learn. Better you should ask Riley. She and Sean were the longest of longshots. But their relationship is stronger than ever."
The proof was all around Jordyn. Love. Respect. Determination. If two people were willing to work together—toward the same goal—they could find lasting happiness. Even egocentric male athletes. And strong-willed women.
"You're smiling," Claire said. "Something I said must have helped."
"Yes. In fact—"
"Jordyn." Raina Patel leaned into the office. "You're needed out front. Right away."
Jordyn didn't hesitate. She couldn't spend a lot of time at her stores. But when she was there, she had a rigid set of rules. Number one. Her business, her problem. And if the volume of excited chatter was any indication, something was definitely up.
"How serious?" Jordyn asked as she followed Raina. She crossed her fingers and said a silent prayer nobody was hurt.
Raina pointed toward the front door. "You tell me."
Near the front of the store, surrounded by women and looking pleased with the prospect, stood Murphy. All ease and charm, he tirelessly signed autographs.
"The man himself," Claire said. "Interesting how such a large man can look so right in such a feminine environment. The sharp suit and tie don't hurt."
"I'll say." Rayna sighed with obvious admiration. "He's so much yummier in person."
Jordyn didn't blame Rayna one bit. She was right. Murphy exuded a confident sex appeal. Yummy, indeed. And if the way they swarmed around him like bees to honey were any indication, every woman in the store, young and old, seemed to agree.
"Do you think you should intervene?" Claire asked.
"Are you kidding?" Jordyn shook her head, her grin as wide as Murphy's. "He doesn't need my help. Besides, once word of his visit gets out, every man and boy in the Pacific Northwest will want to buy our products so they can be like the Cyclones' catcher."
Rayna rubbed her hands together. "Thank you, Murphy."
Murphy looked up, and with laser precision, he found Jordyn. No one else could have known, but Jordyn easily read the question in his gaze. Yes, or no?
Whatever doubts remained in Jordyn's mind didn't magically vanish. But when she looked into his deep-blue eyes and nodded, his smile was all she needed to know she'd made the right decision.
What had Claire told her? A lasting relationship took time. Whatever questions remained—his, and hers—Jordyn and Murphy would look for the answers. Together.
● ≈ ● ≈ ●
JORDYN RARELY MEASURED her life by years. Who she was, how she treated others, the love of her family, and what she had accomplished during her time on earth were her touchstones. Not how many candles she blew out on each birthday cake.
Yet, as she walked up the path to her parents' house, something age wise crossed her mind. In all her twenty-seven years, she had never brought a man home for Sunday dinner. Until today.
Murphy had picked her up after the game—which the Cyclones won in a blowout. Since dinner at her parents was always a laidback, casual affair, he'd changed into jeans and a cotton shirt. Jordyn opted for a loose, summery dress and flat sandals. She'd caught a glimpse of them in the hall mirror as they left her brownstone. And she had to admit, they looked damn fine together.
"You look a little green around the gills," Jordyn said. She shouldn't have laughed at his plight, but honestly, she couldn't help herself.
"I promised your father I would never see you again."
"Why? And when?"
"The day he picked you up at my cabin."
Jordyn still believed her father should have told her who Murphy was. But she understood.
"We don't have any secrets. Right?"
"Right." Murphy's nod was emphatic.
"Then what's the problem?"
"Well," Murphy cleared his throat. "He didn't ask. But I think he suspected what we'd been up to."
"Oh. You mean the sex," Jordyn whispered.
Behind them, Casey zipped around the fenced lawn. One second, the growing puppy tried her best to catch every bug that crossed her path. The next, she studiously tinkled on every bush to mark her new territory.
Murphy's gaze darted toward the house. "Yes, I mean the sex," he hissed.
"Don't worry," Jordyn assured him. "At your cabin, Dad could only speculate. Now, he knows."
"Great." Murphy tossed his hands in the air. "So much better."
"My entire family knows when you're in town, you stay at my place. You see Spencer every day. What does he say?"
"Spencer and I have an unspoken agreement. We play baseball. We hang out. We do not talk about my relationship with you."
"You're such guys," Jordyn said, amazed that men and women could exist in the same universe, let alone enjoy each other's company outside of the bedroom. "If you had a sister, I wouldn't hesitate to talk about you."
"Women are different."
"No kidding."
Before Jordyn could put a foot on the front steps, Murphy pulled her around the side of the house and behind the arbor covered by her mother's prized climbing roses. Casey, happy to play a new game, chased after them. When Murphy stopped without warning, the puppy crashed into his legs, took a tumble, then popped right up and started exploring. As long as her humans were around, she was happy and blissfully unaware of their drama.
Murphy chuckled over Casey's antics, but he wouldn't be swayed from his point.
"Your father only has one little girl," he explained.
"And what? If I were his third or fourth daughter, you could do whatever crazy, perverted thing you wanted and Dad wouldn't object?"
Disgruntled that she purposefully chose to misunderstand, Murphy crossed his arms and frowned.
"You like crazy. I don't do perverted. And…" He shot her an accusing look. "You're laughing at me."
"I usually laugh at the ridiculous."
"Jordyn."
Murphy was so serious, so somber, Jordyn couldn't help teasing him. However, because she understood the reason for his anxiety—and because he was just so damn cute—she relented.
"All you have to remember is one thing. If I'm happy, Dad is happy."
"And are you?" Murphy asked as he twirled a strand of her long, loose hair around his finger. Without protest, Jordyn let him pull her close until their bodies brushed.
Jordyn had to tip her head to look him in the eye. The man was so wonderfully tall, she thought with a satisfied sigh. She placed her hands on his trim waist and leaned closer.
"Am I happy?"
Eyes an intense blue, Murphy nodded.
"Yes." More than she'd thought possible. "You make me very happy, Murphy."
Murphy seemed to relax. A bit.
"Good to know." He nodded as he kissed her once—a mere brush of his lips across hers. Twice—longer, more intense. "FYI? I've never been happier."
The third kiss made Jordyn's toes curl. She sank into the pleasure, familiar yet infinitely new.
"Hey, you two. Mom's garden is not make-out central."
"Go away, Rick." Jordyn didn't need to turn to know the location of her brother. The back porch had a perfect view of the rose arbor. She smiled up at Murphy and winked. "We're busy."
"You can get busy later. Mom needs you in the kitchen. And Murphy?"
"Yes?"
"Dad wants to talk to you. Now."
The screen door swung shut. However, Rick's raucous laughter could still be heard.
"Great," Murphy muttered. "What did I tell you?"
"Dad isn't going to bite your head off."
"My head isn't the part of my body I'm worried about."
Jordyn walked Murphy up the porch steps and into the house, the puppy right behind them. All she had to offer was a conciliatory kiss which he accepted before they broke ranks. She, toward the kitchen. He, with much less enthusiasm, toward the living room.
Murphy took a deep, bracing breath. "If I don't see you again. Thank you for the best ten weeks of my life."
The rush of emotion his words engendered both surprised and thrilled Jordyn. However, now wasn't the time to fall into a pile of mushy emotions. Later. Maybe. When she had time to figure out what exactly Murphy had done to her once impregnable heart.
"Shut up and go." Jordyn gave his beard a playful tug. "You big baby."
When Murphy was out of sight, Jordyn entered the kitchen.
"What is Dad up to?" she asked her mother.
"Hello to you, too." Dorothy Kraig hugged her. Soft and familiar, Jordyn's mother smelled like vanilla and home.
"About Dad."
"How's the new store doing? Your Aunt Didi hasn't stopped raving since we stopped in for the opening." Pleasant and rosy cheeked, Dorothy could shift the subject without blinking an eye. She didn't believe in waging war. She used her upbeat personality to get her way. "Did you notice how many bags my sister left with?"
For the First Time (One Strike Away #$) Page 15
