That thought annoyed her to no end. And when she thought of how long she’d pined over Jordan, it irritated her even more.
Vicki returned to her worktable, picking up the stem cutters and attacking the stubborn stalks of the lilies that had just been delivered by one of her suppliers. But as Mason’s crying intensified, she walked to where Jordan stood struggling to get the baby to calm down. The minute she lifted him out of Jordan’s arms, Mason’s cries quieted. Vicki bounced him softly, running her hand up and down the baby’s back and whispering soothingly into his ear.
“I don’t know what’s going on with him today,” Jordan said. “I usually don’t have a problem getting him to calm down, but he’s been more agitated than usual.”
“Maybe he can sense that you’re—” she started, but then she stopped.
“I’m what?”
Vicki bit her bottom lip, but then she stopped that, too. The old Vicki would keep her mouth shut to spare his feelings. She was no longer listening to the old Vicki.
“Uptight,” she finished. “You’ve been rather uptight lately, and I think Mason can sense that.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “You’re probably right.”
The sheer exhaustion on his face quelled the ire that had risen within her just moments ago. Vicki couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Jordan cocked his head to the side and looked down at his son. “The problem is I can’t seem to unwind because he constantly has me on the go. I get agitated, and then he gets agitated. It’s a vicious cycle.”
“You need some rest, Jordan.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. But I don’t see rest anywhere in my immediate future, not with this little rascal who wants to get into everything these days,” he said, pinching the baby’s chubby leg through his cute corduroy pants.
Vicki took a moment to consider the suggestion she was about to make before she asked, “How about I watch Mason for you so you can get some rest?”
Jordan’s neck stiffened with shock. “Really?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
That was what his mouth said; the naked hope in his eyes, on the other hand, said that he was dying for a little help with the baby.
“It’s not as if it would be a hardship,” Vicki reasoned. “How could I pass up the opportunity to spend time with this little heartbreaker?” She kissed the baby’s chin. “And while I do, you can get some much-needed rest.”
Jordan’s shoulders sank with relief. “God, Vicki, that would be wonderful.”
“I’m happy to do it. Just not tonight,” she said.
“Yeah. You have a date,” Jordan said. He lifted Mason from her arms but remained standing there, his gaze trained on her.
“What?” Vicki asked. After several moments of his staring, her self-consciousness ramped up to skin-tingling levels.
He shook his head as if to clear it. “Nothing.” He gestured toward the staircase. “We’ll go up to Sandra’s.”
“Okay.” She leaned forward and gave Mason a little baby wave. “See you later.”
“When?”
Vicki’s head popped up at Jordan’s question. “Excuse me?”
“When will you see us?” He shook his head. “Him? Mason. To babysit?”
She hadn’t thought that far in advance, but it was obvious Jordan needed to rest as soon as possible. “What about tomorrow, maybe around seven?”
“Tomorrow is good. It’s great, actually.”
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you both tomorrow, then.”
“Good.” He gave her another of those tired, grateful smiles before he started up the stairs. After he’d climbed a couple of steps, he stopped and turned. “Vicki?”
“Yes?” She felt her face heat after being caught still staring at him.
“You really do look nice,” Jordan said. “I hope this guy you’re going out with tonight realizes how lucky he is.”
The instant warmth that traveled across her skin from his simple compliment was embarrassing to say the least.
“Thank you,” Vicki said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She fingered the wispy end of a lock of hair and grinned as she returned to her workstation. Her stylist would get a very nice tip after her next haircut. Even though she no longer cared whether or not Jordan Woolcott noticed her, apparently the pixie cut had gotten her just the result she’d initially hoped for.
*
“Anybody home?” Jordan called as he arrived on the second-floor landing of the huge Victorian where his sister’s dress shop was located.
Sandra turned from the glittery ball gown she was adjusting on a mannequin and smiled.
“Well, look who’s here.” She walked over to them and reached for Mason. “Give me my nephew.”
Jordan handed the baby off and plopped into an empty chair. The exhaustion of the past week had him on the verge of both mental and physical collapse.
“So what brings you two here?” Sandra asked, taking the chair opposite his and bouncing Mason on her lap.
Jordan shrugged. “Just thought we’d get out for a bit. He doesn’t understand that it’s too cold for the beach or the park, so I’ve been taking him other places. We just came from the dry cleaners.”
“Such party animals,” Sandra said with a snort. She snapped her fingers. “I know exactly where you should take him—the children’s museum in Dover. I saw something on TV about a special exhibit they have going on for the Christmas season.”
Sandra turned the huge computer monitor around to face her and grabbed the wireless keyboard from her desk. As his sister searched the web, Jordan pitched his head back and let his eyes fall shut. He tried to shake off the edginess that had his skin tingly. The weird vibe had settled over him after his exchange with Vicki, and hell if he knew what to make of it.
She had popped up in his head more than once this week, creeping into his thoughts and setting off memories of how shocked he’d been when he’d noticed her standing on the beach at Sandra’s wedding. The new haircut and that curve-hugging dress had been something to behold.
Jordan couldn’t remember if he had ever once noticed what Vicki wore. Of course, he’d noticed her—no man could deny that Vicki was gorgeous in her own right. He just had never looked at her in that way.
She was just...just Vicki.
She was the quiet one; the one who, if Sandra or their other best friend, Janelle, ever got into trouble, would get them out of it. She was steady. Reserved. She wasn’t the type that normally produced the prickle of awareness that climbed up the back of his neck when he’d spotted her standing on the porch in sexy leopard-print heels.
“What do you think about that?” Sandra asked.
Jordan blinked. “Huh?”
His sister stabbed him with the most aggravated look. “Are you even listening to me? I just listed every special exhibit going on at the children’s museum in Dover. Or maybe there’s something in Portsmouth the two of you can do.”
“Maybe.” Jordan shrugged. “I need to find something to keep him occupied. It can get boring sitting around the house. Makes me wonder what Laurie does over there all day,” he said, speaking of his housekeeper.
Sandra started on the tirade Jordan knew was forthcoming. “Oh, let’s see. She takes care of your son, keeps the house impeccable and cooks dinner.”
“I meant besides all that,” Jordan said, his mouth tipped up in a smile.
He saw the moment that Sandra caught on to his teasing.
“You’re such an ass,” she said.
“Not true. You’re just an easy target,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I know exactly how indispensable Laurie is, especially now that she’s away on this extended Christmas vacation. I haven’t done the best job at keeping up the housework since, and when it comes to dinner Mason and I have tried just about every takeout place within twenty miles of Wintersage. He likes gyros. Wh
o’d have thought?”
Sandra shook her head, a pitiable look on her face. “I’m almost tempted to tell you to hire a temporary nanny to cover for Laurie while she’s away, but that won’t solve your problem.”
“I don’t have a problem,” he said.
“You most definitely do have a problem. You have no life. And yes, I know you’ve been taking care of Mason full-time since the election ended, but that’s not the life you’re used to living. Maybe you should just go back to work. Maybe you’d be less irritable.”
Hadn’t Vicki just accused him of the same thing?
“Why does everyone think I’m irritable?” Jordan asked. “I’m just tired. Besides, I can’t go back to the firm. I took an extended leave, remember? I thought I would be working on Oliver’s transition team right now.”
Sandra rolled her eyes. The election was a sore subject for everyone in his family, especially his sister.
When he spoke, Jordan kept his voice low. “Hey, Sandra? The fallout from the election, it hasn’t caused any friction, has it? You know, between you three?”
“What do you think, Jordan? You accused my best friend’s father of trying to steal an election. Do you think things would be all sunshine and roses around here? The three of us decided that when it comes to the election we’re Switzerland, but things are still a bit awkward.”
“Switzerland?” he asked.
“Completely neutral.”
“Oh. Well, I wish I had that luxury.”
“You do.” Sandra reached over and clamped a hand on his forearm. “The election is over. You can accept the results and move on.”
Jordan shook his head. “I can’t. I know something—”
She lifted her hand and held it up, stopping him. “Switzerland. I don’t want to know.”
“That’s too bad,” Jordan said. “I’m pulling the ‘sibling in need of an ear’ card, because I need to talk this out with someone.”
Sandra blew out an aggravated breath. “What is it?”
“I heard from the election commissioner this morning. According to Massachusetts’s election laws, only the candidate can officially file for a recount, so they can’t go forward unless Oliver requests it.”
“Oliver has already conceded.”
“I know. I told him he was making a mistake, but he refused to listen to me. I just don’t understand how he can sit back and do nothing.”
“Maybe he wants to be gracious in his defeat and move on with his life,” Sandra said. “Just as you should move on.”
Jordan shut his eyes and pitched his head back again.
“I wish I could,” he said. He straightened in the chair and looked at Sandra. “Something fishy happened with that election. My polling data was solid.”
“Well, if the commissioner’s office refuses to go forward with a recount, none of that matters, does it? You need to just put this election behind you.”
Jordan pressed his palms together and tapped his fingers against his lips. “I hired my own investigators,” he finally admitted.
Sandra groaned. “Okay, Jordan, I’m just going to say it. This election has driven you right off the deep end.”
“I’m only doing what I think is right,” he said. “If I just rolled over and played dead the way Oliver has, then it’s like admitting that my polling was wrong, and I know it wasn’t.” He put both hands up. “If I don’t find anything before Darren takes office in January, then I’ll drop it. But until then, I’m going to search for the proof I know is out there.”
“Can we please stop talking about this election? You’re giving me a headache.”
“Fine,” Jordan said. He picked up what he could only assume was some kind of dressmaking thing from a nearby desk and twirled it around his finger. “Are you and Isaiah planning to hang around until after the Kwanzaa celebration?”
“Of course,” Sandra answered, balancing Mason on her lap while he bounced up and down. “This is Isaiah’s first Christmas in Wintersage in years. He wants to experience it all again—the big extravaganza and Christmas parade, and our family’s annual Kwanzaa celebration. We’ll likely spend Christmas Day shuttling between Mom and Dad’s and his parents’ place.” She glanced over at him. “What about you guys?”
Jordan shrugged. “We’ll be at Mom and Dad’s.”
“What about spending Christmas with his mom?” She nodded toward Mason. “Have you heard from Allison at all?”
“No,” Jordan said. “Subject closed.”
“Jordan—”
“Subject closed,” he repeated. He ran his hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to talk about Allison.”
“After I just had to listen to all that election crap?”
“Do you really want to use your ‘sibling in need of an ear’ card on talk about Allison?”
“Whatever,” Sandra said. “Why did you come over here in the first place if you don’t want to talk about anything but that election?”
“Maybe I wanted you to spend time with your nephew, but if you don’t want to we can leave.” Jordan made as if he was about to get up. His sister shot him an evil look.
“Sit down,” she said.
He grinned, knowing that would get under her skin. He took his seat, picked up the shiny tool again and resumed twirling it around his finger.
“Would you put down my eyelash curler?”
“Your what?”
She gestured to her eyes. “Eyelash curler. You know, to extend my lashes.”
Jordan tossed the thing on the desk as though it had suddenly caught fire. He blew out another weary breath and stretched his legs out in front of him.
Folding his hands over his stomach, he said, “I saw Vicki downstairs. She looks nice today.”
“She has a date.”
“Yeah, that’s what she told me. She offered to babysit Mason so I can get some rest.”
“I hope you took her up on her offer. You can use it. You look like a reject from The Walking Dead.”
“You do know how to flatter a guy,” Jordan said with a snort.
She sent him a saccharine smile. “I try.”
“So,” Jordan asked, picking up a pencil from Sandra’s desk and tapping it against his thigh. “Do you know the guy she’s going out with tonight?”
The moment the question left his mouth Jordan wanted to take it back. Why had he just asked that? Especially of Sandra.
His sister’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t met him,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
“Forget it.”
Her brow arched. “No, why don’t you tell me, Jordan? Why the sudden interest in Vicki’s dating life?”
Just as he was about to tell Sandra to drop it, Mason threw his head back and started to wail. Not since his first moments of life in the delivery room had Jordan been so grateful to hear his baby boy cry.
*
“I hope your mother appreciates these,” Vicki said as she handed Samson Cornwell his credit card. “It’s sweet of you to buy her a dozen roses just because.”
“I thought it would be nice to brighten her day,” Samson said. “And you do such an amazing job, Vicki. These roses are just amazing.”
“I can’t really take the credit. I just arranged them. Mother Nature did the hard work.”
His roaring laugh echoed against the walls. The effort it took for Vicki not to roll her eyes was downright admirable.
“Did you have this sense of humor back in high school?” Samson asked, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Who knew you were so funny?”
Vicki hunched her shoulders in a “who knew?” gesture. She pushed the vase filled with blush-colored Antique Silk roses and baby’s breath toward him, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. He didn’t.
Sam rested an elbow on the counter and leaned in close. “When did you get interested in flowers?” he asked. “You know, I read somewhere that there are over twenty different species of roses. That’s amazing, isn’t it?”
; “Try nearly two hundred,” Vicki said.
His eyes went wide. “Really? Two hundred? That’s amazing.”
She wondered if he would be offended if she threw a thesaurus in with his dozen roses. That was the fifth amazing since he’d walked through the door.
The phone rang. Vicki decided then and there to give whoever was on the other end of the line a free centerpiece for their holiday dinner table.
“I have to get this, Samson. Thanks again for utilizing Petals for your floral needs. I hope your mother enjoys her roses.”
“Oh, I know she will,” he said. He winked at her.
It took everything Vicki had in her not to groan. She answered the phone. “Petals.”
It was Declan. As she listened to his apology and explanations for canceling their date tonight, her spirits deflated. Well, there went her big plans. Maybe she should run outside and stop Samson before he drove away.
The door swung open and Samson rushed back in. She immediately regretted the thought she’d just had. She so was not going out with Samson Cornwell. She didn’t care how amazing a date with him would be.
“My wallet,” Samson said, retrieving it from where he’d left it on the counter.
Vicki walked him to the door, then turned and spotted Sandra, Jordan and Mason marching down the stairs.
Sandra pointed to the door as she reached the landing. “Let me guess, another new male customer who suddenly has a penchant for flowers?”
“Samson Cornwell,” Vicki said. “You remember him?”
Sandra pulled a face. “That fool who nearly blew up the chemistry lab at Wintersage Academy?”
“The very one.”
“Don’t tell me he asked you out.”
“I didn’t give him the chance,” Vicki said.
Jordan stood there with Mason, his gaze volleying back and forth between her to Sandra.
“The men of Wintersage have developed an amazing interest in flowers this week,” Sandra explained to him.
Vicki groaned. “Please don’t say the word amazing.” Sandra’s forehead dipped in question. “Don’t ask,” Vicki added.
“Anyway,” her friend said, turning once again to Jordan, “one came in yesterday and bought a bouquet for his dentist. His dentist. It’s ridiculous.”
A Mistletoe Affair (Mills & Boon Kimani) (Wintersage Weddings - Book 3) Page 3
