Jordan lifted several strands of beads and stroked them with her thumb. “You are a very brave boy.”
Nathan giggled behind his hand. “No, mommy says I just like beads.” The smile lit up the boy’s whole face.
God, how did he do it? How did he live in the moment so fully? So filled with grace? She loved the way he humbly blew off his courage. What a neat kid. If she only had a thimble full of his courage.
She shook her head in wonder.
“All right, off with you. There’s an ice cream party in the common room. Go! You don’t want to miss all the fun toppings on the sundaes.”
“No, ma’am, I don’t. Sprinkles are my favorite.” He launched himself at Jordan and squeezed his arms tight around her neck.
The child smelled like powder and baby shampoo. Her heart lurched again in her chest as he pulled away.
“See you next month, J.D.” He waved and ran up the aisle. “I’ll have another bead for you,” he called over his shoulder.
Jordan stood and lifted her hand in a small wave.
The rest of the auditorium had emptied out.
Disappointment crashed through her when she looked at Josh’s empty seat. He hadn’t come through the line. Maybe he was done with her after their last flair up.
She tried to squelch the letdown feeling she experienced with a bright smile and animated thanks to the teens. “You guys were awesome today. Thank you for all your hard work on Sleeping Beauty. Amazing performance. We’ll meet on Tuesday, normal time, to decide together what play we’ll stage next. Have a great week.”
Jordan waited for the noise and chaos to die down as the teens grabbed their gear and headed out the theater doors before she turned to mount the stairs to gather her own purse and car keys backstage.
She pulled to an abrupt stop.
Josh sat on the stairs, blocking her access.
“Hey, Josh.” Her heart leapt into her throat, keeping her from saying anything else. She swallowed hard.
“You make a lovely fairy godmother.” His mouth twitched. “Wand and all.” He extended his long legs and leaned back on his elbows on the steps. “And for the record, you are tremendously brave.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. “You saw that?”
“Cute kid. And very wise.”
“Yes, out of the mouths of babes.” She straightened her dress. “He’s an amazing kid, really. He got every one of those beads because of all the treatments he’s had to have over the past two years.”
“You’re doing a wonderful thing here for these kids.”
“Thanks. I like doing it. And, if anyone needs the distraction, it’s them.”
Josh nodded slowly and sat forward, his forearms propped on his knees. “The dress suits you.”
His husky voice stroked her most secret places. And damn if her inner sexpot didn’t shimmy and shake all over at just the sound of his voice.
“Thanks. So what brings you to the PIC-U? I didn’t even think you’d figured out Main Street yet, let alone how to find a cancer hospital for kids nestled in the woods.”
“Tony needed to be here and I had a question for you.”
Again, her insides quivered at the possibilities.
“How can I help you?”
“You’re even better now than you were when you stopped acting. You do know that, right?” Josh’s praise made a flush of warmth flood her.
Something rustled at the back of the theater.
Jordan turned and shaded her eyes against the bright lights to see who was still in the shadows. She could just barely make out the dark outline of a seated figure at the back of the auditorium.
“It’s what I keep telling her, but she won’t listen to me. Isn’t that right, baby?” Jordan’s mother spoke from the still dark back seats of the auditorium.
Shit.
“Mother? What are you doing here?” Jordan twisted the wand in her hand, her eyes penetrating the dark to make out the slender figure of her mother as she stood and walked down the aisle toward them.
“You act like it’s a surprise for me to visit my daughters? My grandson is in a play. I can come see him, can’t I?”
“Grace told you.” It came out an accusation.
“No, silly, not Grace. She wouldn’t tell me anything. I have my ways of finding out.”
What? Other ways? Not cool.
Grace sometimes slipped and told their mother things that Jordan would rather she not know, because of their strained relationship.
That her mother even took an interest at all, should have pleased Jordan, because it wasn’t often that she took notice of anything but herself. However, Jordan knew her mother. And she suspected the worst, for good reason.
Helene had paid someone on the island to spy on her?
These were her friends. Her family.
Her relationship with her mother had always been difficult, even in the best of times. For as long as Jordan could remember her mother had used her to get what she wanted in life. She’d been a pawn in the world of acting, a pawn for her father’s affections, a pawn to leverage her own financial status.
If possible, it had gotten even worse when Jordan was granted her legal emancipation at sixteen. Since then, for the past ten years, Helene Drake had been grasping for control of Jordan’s non-existent career. Every opportunity she got, she’d goad Jordan, trying to push her back into acting. Trying to corner her like a trapped animal. Jordan wasn’t sure who was really desperate and who was trapped, but she hated being forced to do anything against her will. So she didn’t tell her mother. Anything. Jordan knew better. And she never told her mother about anything important to her—like her secret continued interest in acting—because her mother would only use it against her.
She’d dig in and keep digging and nagging until she’d hollowed out any desire that might be budding there.
It wasn’t because Helene was like normal moms and wanted her daughter to pursue her dream and get back to acting. No, it was to boost Helene’s own career. She never did better in her career than when Jordan was at the height of hers. She’d joined Jordan on several movies. A two-for-one deal. Any opportunity Helene got to leverage her career on the back of Jordan, she did it. Hell, Jordan was surprised her mother hadn’t outed her with a Where Are They Now TV special for a quick paycheck.
She was tired of being the Bank of Jordan, a virtual piggy bank.
Tired of the recriminations.
Tired of never measuring up.
She’d done everything she could to limit her mother’s ability to hurt her financially. But now, Jordan was independent. Had been for a long time. And, yet, her mother had the power to hurt her emotionally. Even though she was a grown woman. For that, she had no armor, no real protection, other than trying to limit her contact with Helene.
“Did you enjoy the performance?” Jordan twisted the wand again.
“Admirable effort, considering the talent pool.”
Typical comment.
“Gee. Thanks, Mom.” She turned halfway toward the stairs. “I need to go gather my things and change.”
“Yes, please do. That hideous dress does nothing for you. Have you put on a few extra pounds since I’ve seen you?”
Jordan just looked at her mother. Really? This was the first comment out of her mouth? After, what a year? She really shouldn’t be surprised. Why did this have to hurt so bad every single time she encountered her mother?
Josh stood up behind her, slipping his big hand around her waist. “I think she looks fabulous.” He kissed her temple. “She’s perfect and beautiful.”
Jordan glanced up, giving him a grateful smile.
“No. I’m actually the same weight, Mother. But I’ve started yoga, so there’s actually more lean muscle m
ass now.”
“Mmmm.” Her mother purred. Her attention had been diverted, as it always had been, from Jordan to the nearest hot male in the room. “Who’s your friend, Jordie?”
Jordan hated her mother’s pet name.
Her mother offered her hand to Josh in such a way that allowed him to kiss her ring, if he so desired.
Thank God he didn’t.
Josh squeezed her fingers gently then dropped her hand.
A look of disappointment flashed across Helene’s face.
“This is Josh. Josh, this is my mother, Helene Drake.”
Her mother stumbled and feigned shock. “You’re actually claiming me as your mother in public. Oh, dear. The world is coming to an end. Or this fellow is special.”
Jordan gave a fierce little shake of her head and squeezed Josh’s right hand that still held her around the waist. “Nope. He’s just a friend.”
She knew exactly what happened to men in her life who her mom thought were special to her.
Josh took the signal. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Drake.”
“Please, call me Helene.” She cocked her head and studied his face. “You’ve got beautiful bone structure. You could be an actor.”
Josh laughed. “Thank you, but I think I have enough on my plate right now.”
“What is it you do?” Helene asked.
He paused. He must have seen the barracuda in her mom, because he didn’t tell her the full truth. “Right now I’m doing a little construction work on a studio for a new resident.”
“Ahh. A man who’s good with his hands.”
Ewww, gross, Mom! Jordan rolled her eyes and huffed in disgust. Out loud, she said, “We need to get out of here. There’s a presentation by a local conservation group in half an hour.”
Jordan didn’t want to continue this tête-à-tête here, or anywhere for that matter. But, hell, it was her mother. This wasn’t over yet.
“I’ll see you back— Will you be at the café? Or the house?” Helene asked. “We’d better meet at that despicable café. I have to catch the five o’clock ferry. I’m staying in Wilmington. I’ve got a part in a Soderberg film for the next few days. Taping starts in the morning.” She hitched the handle of the small purse she carried into the crook of her arm, readying to go as well. “I’d have thought you’d’ve sold that dinosaur of a café by now. Or have you stopped trying again?” Helene rubbed her temples as if trying to ward off a headache.
Jordan knew the gesture well. Her mother’s annoyance was never far from the surface—always there ready to bubble out like the scalding lava of an active volcano.
“Nope, haven’t stopped trying.” She wasn’t about to let her mom know she had three-hundred-thousand dollars sitting in her bank account right now. Apparently, her island Intel hadn’t shared that bit of information with her. Or maybe the informant had and she was on a fishing expedition to find out how much she’d gotten for it.
“I still think you’re listing it at too low a price.”
Always the critic. Nothing was ever enough. “So you sell real estate now, too?” Jordan couldn’t help the sarcasm. Her mother had pushed too far.
“I know things,” her mother said simply.
“Yes, you do.” Jordan escaped Josh’s firm grip and started up the stairs. “I’ll see you at the café in a bit, Mother. Tony should be there. Have him get you a glass of iced tea.”
“Only if you have blueberry syrup.”
Jordan glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, of course. I carry it just for you, Mom.”
And it was true. It’s why she’d started carrying the unusual flavored syrup for drinks. Her mother loved blueberry flavored iced tea. So she carried a case of the syrup, just in case her mother dropped in. From California.
How pathetic? Always trying to please her.
Even after all this time.
“All right, dear. I’ll see you there.” Helene’s heels clicked all the way up the auditorium aisle, until she disappeared out the main theater entrance.
The heavy door hissed shut. The welcomed silence was deafening after the scene with her mother.
Jordan felt a flood of relief.
It was a good day. She’d survived another encounter with her high-maintenance mother. She heard footsteps behind her and glanced up. Josh had followed her back stage.
“Can I talk to you a second?” he asked.
She rounded on him ready to sink her teeth into something.
“What?” Her tone was shorter than it should have been, considering he’d offered moral support and tried to deflect her mother a short few minutes ago.
Josh took a step back and raised his hands. “Put your guns away, Annie. I just need the name of a good contractor. I swear.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Then she huffed out an exasperated breath. “My mother drives me nuts.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t tell.” He grinned at her. His blue eyes sparkled. “Families can be complicated.”
Jordan couldn’t help liking him. And whether he knew it or not, she was sure Josh couldn’t stop the natural charm that flowed from him.
“Do you always rescue damsels in distress?”
He chuckled. Hands in the pockets of his jeans, he rocked back on his heels. “No. I only come to the rescue of fairies in distress. And only when the wicked witch pounces.”
He gave her a wickedly sexy wink.
Jordan smiled, despite herself, and the icy defense she’d erected upon seeing her mother melted just a little.
She looked down at her costume. She still held the glittery wand. “Why am I even fighting you? You’re always this charming, aren’t you?” She lifted her hands and let them drop to her sides. “I just need to give in, don’t I?”
“Yes. I am. And, yes, you do.” He stepped closer and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His warm fingers brushed her skin, sending a jolt of desire to her core. “Except when I’m being an asshole, which I hear is a bit off-putting.”
She laughed. “Yes, point taken. I can vouch for that one.” She sobered and considered him. He was a seriously complicated man. She wanted to know the real Josh Cohen-Matthews a.k.a. Josh Nicodemus. Was that even possible? Did he ever let anyone in? She doubted it. Which was a shame, because she thought she might really like him if she got acquainted with him. The real man behind the rock star persona.
“I need to retrieve my clothes.” She pointed behind him to the chair in the corner.
He stepped back, giving her room to breathe. She snatched the jeans and T-shirt, which she’d draped over a tall wooden-backed chair. She grabbed the hem of the sheath dress and scrunched it up her thighs to her hips. Then she crossed her arms and yanked over her head, pulling it free.
At Josh’s gasp, she looked up startled, then glanced down at herself.
“Oh. Sorry.” She stood in her bra and panties. Light pink lace. “I forget not everyone is as nonchalant about dressing in front of others as I am. Years of practice with quick wardrobe changes.”
“Don’t mind me.” Josh’s voice sounded scratchy, but she could see the visible evidence of his growing desire. It was there. In the flare of his nostrils. The dilation of his pupils. The increasing bulge behind his zipper.
“I won’t. Mind you, that is.” She grinned at him, her hand trailed to her abdomen, where she splayed her hand.
He licked his lower lip and then bit the corner.
She wanted to latch onto the same flesh and suck it into her mouth. Instead, she stepped into her jeans and buttoned and zipped them.
“There is nothing sexier than a woman in jeans and a lace bra.”
“Really? Nothing?”
“Okay, well, maybe there is . . . a woman wearing nothing at all.”
“Somehow I knew
you’d say that.” She laughed at him. “What did you need, Josh?”
“Pardon?” He stilled.
Wrong question. They both knew what they needed. A closed room, a bed, and few hours of unbridled passion with each other. None of which they were likely to get any time soon. Nor would it be best for either of them.
Although Jordan was certainly weakening on that point. Only because she thought it might be good, very good between them. If even just for a little while.
“You said you needed a name?” Her voice was muffled in the fabric of her T-shirt as she pulled it over her head. She smoothed the cotton over her hips.
“Ah—” Josh dragged his eyes back to her face and stared blankly for a moment. Then he seemed to snap out of it. “Yes. I need the name of a good contractor. As I mentioned to your mother, I’m building a professional studio in the old café party room. Anyone good on the island?”
“Yes. Hank Yost. He’s at the corner of Stede Bonnet Wynd and Cape Fear Trail. You can’t miss his shop. It’s called We Nail It.”
Josh laughed. “For real?”
She grinned. “Yes, Hank’s got a sense of humor and he’s cute. He plays on both to get business.”
Josh looked sullen. “Great. More competition.”
“It’s a contest?” She lifted her brows.
“Always.” He stepped toward her. “And with you involved, most definitely.”
“The great Nicodemus is not used to competition, is he?” She watched him advance. He stood no more than an inch from her, and she could smell the crisp, clean scent of his cologne.
“On the contrary, I am used to winning every competition I enter. What do you think makes me such a great rock star?”
“Modest much?” She quirked a brow at him.
Every Heart Sings (Serenity Island Series) Page 16
