Colton's Amnesia Target (The Coltons of Kansas)

by Kimberly van Meter - A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)

  Jordana grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest. Had she made a mistake? Had she pushed away the one she would’ve happily grown old with? How was she to know that she hadn’t taken a gamble on the wrong flip of the coin? The military taught her to never second-guess her instincts, but she wasn’t so sure that she’d been listening to her instincts but rather fear.

  Fear of ultimately losing a part of herself if and when Clint realized he couldn’t make a life work as her partner. Fear of putting in the work to only discover they were truly incompatible. Fear of looking like a fool when she didn’t fit in with his circle of wealthy friends.

  Jordana exhaled on a groan, her mind spinning in circles. “No sense in looking backward when you know you’re not going that way,” she murmured to herself as she tossed the pillow, restless.

  She glanced at her phone. It works both ways. She hadn’t called him but he hadn’t called her, either. Was he even missing her? Had he washed his hands of everything they’d been to each other? Yes, it was unfair for her to criticize his methods of closure, but she didn’t care. If there was one lesson that’d been hammered home from the time she was young, it was that life wasn’t fair.

  Just once, she would’ve liked the pendulum to swing her way.

  Enough with the pity party, she admonished, rising. Her gaze roamed her tiny house. There had to be something that needed cleaning or reorganizing. Maybe she would start that tile project, after all. She’d always wanted granite countertops.

  No time like the present. Especially when her brain wouldn’t let her rest, her heart ached like a bitch and guilt dogged her every step for not being able to close this case.

  Adulting was hard.

  Right now, she wanted to crawl under her blanket fort and block out everything and everyone.

  Seeing as that wasn’t an option...tile project, it is!

  * * *

  Clint walked with purpose into the office, his plan set in his mind, his feet ready to put the plan into action. He asked Jeana to join him in his office and to shut the door behind her.

  Perplexed, Jeana followed his instruction, awaiting his disposition. “Have I done something wrong, sir?” she asked, concerned.

  “I’d say so,” he answered, steeling his fingers. “I did a little digging into your personnel file and discovered you have a degree in business management with a minor in robotic tech. Tell me...why are you my assistant and not on my development team?”

  She blushed when she realized he was paying her a compliment. “I applied for a management position when I first came on board with Broadlocke but Mr. Locke thought I should spend some time as your assistant to learn how Broadlocke operates. I was lucky to land a position with Broadlocke and I was grateful for the opportunity to prove myself.”

  “That was five years ago. How long were you supposed to ‘learn’ the ropes?” Clint asked, confused. “Alex never mentioned your qualifications. If I’d known I would’ve rectified that oversight way before now.”

  “At first, I was a little disappointed that I wasn’t headed straight into management as I’d hoped but there was some wisdom in Mr. Locke’s direction. I did learn the ins and outs of Broadlocke in ways that gave me a particular insight.”

  Clint could see the value, but he didn’t like that Alex had been a little sexist by throwing a highly capable female employee in the assistant role. Well, that was about to end. “Here’s the thing, I can’t do anything about the past but I’m looking toward the future and I need someone here who can help keep Broadlocke running smoothly when I’m not around. Someone I trust.”

  “Sir?” Jeana blinked, cocking her head to the side in question. “Are you hiring someone new? Should I contact the headhunting agency?”

  “Nope. I did my headhunting, but as I turns out, I didn’t have to hunt all that far.”

  “Oh. Okay?”

  “You, Jeana, I want you to operate the Chicago office and not as my assistant.”

  Jeana’s lip trembled as she swallowed. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” he answered solemnly. “Look, you’re already the engine that makes sure that this office is a tight ship but what I didn’t realize was that you weren’t being used to your best potential. If you’re willing to take a lead role in the management side, it will come with a substantial raise, some perks, as you know, and a lot more work. Are you up for that?”

  She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes. Oh, yes!”

  He nodded, pleased. “Good. Then you need to start headhunting for your replacement because you’re going to need a ‘you’ by your side as you move into more responsibilities.”

  Jeana, beaming, took a moment to contain her happiness, then asked, “May I assume you will be opening a Braxville location?”

  “You assume correct. A two-hour flight is nothing if I’m needed here. It’s time I start creating a solution to my problem instead of just staring at it.”

  “Seems like a sensible course of action, sir.”

  “And another thing, no more ‘sir,’” he admonished. “As soon as you sign your paperwork for HR, you’re on my level. From now on, it’s Clint. With Alex gone, I’ll be needing a new partner. Understand?”

  She smiled, nodding. “I do.”

  “Excellent. Glad that’s settled. Now, if you wouldn’t mind me asking you a tiny favor...could you book me a flight to Braxville on the next available plane? I’ve got a woman to woo and I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

  Jeana’s smile grew. “I would be delighted to book you a flight. Consider it done.”

  Jeana spun on her heel and left his office with a little more spring in her step and it did Clint’s heart good to make a positive difference in someone’s life. Especially someone who deserved good things.

  With the decision made, he no longer felt any reservations. He’d never give much thought to where he would raise a family if he were to have one, but he knew now that Chicago wasn’t where he wanted his roots to grow. He wanted for his kids what Jordana had had growing up—stability and a firm understanding of where they came from.

  He wanted to complain about small-town life, such as a neighbor with a noisy rooster, or a pig that’d escaped the farmer’s pen to root around in his vegetable garden. Hell, he wanted to learn how to grow vegetables and plant fruit trees.

  He wanted to attend Friday night football games for the local high school and get to know the townspeople on a real level. The kind of life that entails knowing people by name and being able to chat with them in the supermarket aisles. And he wanted it all with that stubborn, hot-as-hell detective who haunted his dreams and made him realize what he’d been missing all those years. He wanted the white picket fence, the DIY projects, the PTA meetings and corny office Christmas parties.

  As long as Jordana was by his side, he’d do it all.

  Now, time to problem-solve the biggest obstacle to that promised land: Jordana.

  Well, he had a two-hour plane ride to figure something out. Good thing he’d always been light on his feet. And he didn’t plan to leave Braxville until he’d convinced Jordana she was The One.

  Even if it took a lifetime.

  Chapter 35

  “You look like someone just ran over your dog,” Reese commented, prompting a sour look from Jordana. “Case in point. What’s eating you, Gilbert Grape?”

  She hadn’t slept well. She might’ve dipped her toe into insanity last night, admitting, “I demoed my kitchen around ten o’clock last night.”

  “What?”

  “And accidentally broke a water pipe,” she answered, wincing at the nightmare her kitchen had become. “I managed to get the water main shut off but now I need a plumber to come and take a look to repair it.”

  “Your dad’s in construction—can’t he do it for you?”

  “I don’t dare ask my dad for anything right n
ow,” she said, shuddering at the thought. “I’d rather pay the money for someone else to take care of the problem.”

  “You don’t think your dad would put aside petty grievances to help you out?”

  “You haven’t met my dad, have you? And no, I’m already on thin ice because of the investigation.”

  Reese seemed to understand. “You’re doing everything you can. We’re going to get a lead soon. Something will pop up. They always do.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ear,” she quipped, hoping it was true. She needed a win at some point or else her relationship with her dad might be forever ruined. Difficult personality aside, she still loved the man.

  For her sake, Reese moved on. “Okay, my next question is fairly obvious...why in God’s name are you starting a demo project in the middle of the week at ten at night? Are you doing crack? Cooking meth? Should I be worried? You know they drug test here.”

  “I’m not doing crack or meth, you idiot,” Jordana said, rolling her eyes, but the motion gave her a headache. She rubbed at her temples. “I think drugs would be easier to explain. I kinda went a little nuts last night. I wasn’t planning to start the demo for the countertops but I wasn’t able to sleep, and one thing lead to another and before I knew it I was swinging a mallet like a crazy person.”

  “Which is how you burst a pipe,” Reese guessed, to which she confirmed with a nod. “Okay, so maybe some therapy instead of wrecking your home before you know what you’re doing?”

  “Thanks for stating the obvious. I already told you that I kinda went crazy, but to be fair, I’ve been under a lot of pressure. Eventually, the top is going to pop.”

  “Most people do normal things to let off steam, like garden or watch true-crime documentaries on serial killers.”

  She leveled a sardonic look at Reese. “That’s only you. Nobody else does that.”

  He countered, “I’m fairly certain they don’t go full-on wrecking crew late at night completely sober. At least tell me there was alcohol involved with your poor judgment.”

  She sighed. “Sober. Not even a glass of wine.”

  Reese chuckled, shaking his head. “Do you have a countertop replacement picked out?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you have a project budget?”

  “Nope.”

  “So you basically got a wild hair up your butt and started swinging?”

  “Yep.”

  He exhaled a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he implored, “Jesus, Jordana. Just call the guy already.”

  Jordana stared, wishing she wasn’t so transparent. Also wishing she hadn’t lost her cool and raged at her poor kitchen without an actual plan as to how to finish the project. Now she had a nonfunctioning kitchen, water damage and no idea how she was going to put it all back together again. If that wasn’t a metaphor for her life, she didn’t know what was. She glanced away, finally saying, “I can’t call him.”

  Reese sighed. “And why is that?”

  “Because you don’t get closure by repeatedly opening a wound. He needs time to heal, too. I wouldn’t disrespect his privacy by badgering him for no discernible purpose.”

  “You make a lot of excuses for a woman who is normally pretty straightforward about things.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do. Look, I’m your partner. Trust is an essential component of our relationship. I wouldn’t lie to you. So you can trust me when I say, you’re better with him than without. And you’re driving everyone crazy with your dour Eeyore routine. It’s a bit of a drag.”

  Jordana glared Reese’s way, not because he wasn’t right but because she hated that she was that person. “Getting over Clint is turning out to be harder than I thought it would be,” she admitted. “I just need more time.”

  “Maybe you can’t get over him because you’re not supposed to get over him. I don’t think anyone would accuse me of being overly romantic but, you know, you and Clint seem pretty well-matched.”

  She snorted. “Not hardly.”

  “Forget all the surface stuff—I’m talking about the way you act with one another. He brings out the best in you, which is how it’s supposed to work. At least, if rumors are to be believed, of course. Anyway, all I know is that you’re making a big mistake by holding a line you drew in the sand over something colossally stupid.”

  “Did you just call me stupid?”

  “Pretty much.” Reese shrugged, giving zero “effs” as they would say. “I call it like I see it.”

  “You should mind your own business,” Jordana told him.

  “Sorry, can’t. You’re my partner so I’m forced to deal with you and whatever nonsense you manifest, both good and bad.”

  “Is there such a thing as good nonsense?” she asked, mildly amused.

  “Sure, like your near-baffling belief that The Wizard of Oz is one of the best films ever made. That’s bull that, although inherently wrong, is harmless, which is good. Get it?”

  “Your logic is dizzying and you’re wrong—The Wizard of Oz is a classic in film history. Anyone with a brain would agree.”

  “My point being, I’m willing to deal with all of it because I’m your partner and I’m tired of seeing you sad all the time. Even when you’re pretending to be happy, I know you’re not.”

  Jordana’s eyes welled unexpectedly. Don’t do this here. Her throat closed up and she couldn’t manage a comeback. “I—”

  “The Wizard of Oz is a classic,” a voice with authority said behind her, choking her words in midsentence. She jumped from her chair to see Clint standing there, a half grin on his face, that adorable dimple popping out. “If we’re throwing around facts, that is.”

  “What are you doing here?” she found her voice to rasp, but she was so happy to see him that all she could do was stare. “I mean... Chicago...why?”

  He started to walk toward her, and her gaze never left his. The station seemed to disappear around them. Her soul stared with hunger at the man she wanted above all others. Reasons for why it wouldn’t work, logical arguments against being together, all the things she had clung to in his absence, dissolved like mist in sunshine. He was here. Standing in front of her. Like the answer to an unspoken prayer.

  And she couldn’t say a thing.

  Clint seemed to understand and reached for her hands to hold in his grasp, his stare never leaving hers. She was mesmerized by those eyes, drinking in his presence like a woman dying of thirst.

  “Well, this is awkward,” Reese broke in. “But I’m going to stay because I need to know how this turns out. Carry on.”

  That break was the catalyst to cause her to blink and come to her senses. After shooting Reese a look, she asked Clint again, “What are you doing here?”

  “Coming to convince the love of my life to stop pushing me away so we can start our lives together.”

  Her heart stuttered. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’m looking to put down roots with you. Right here in Braxville.”

  “You can’t do that,” she protested, flushing with distress. “I told you that was a bad idea.”

  “Well, I gave it some thought and I realized you were partly right.”

  “She was?” Reese asked, surprised.

  Jordana whirled on Reese. “I swear to God, if you don’t shut up I’ll shoot you.”

  Reese held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. So touchy.”

  Returning to Clint, she tried to understand what he was saying. Impatience colored her voice as she said, “Please clarify.”

  “You said if either of us moved permanently for the other, it would cause resentment. I couldn’t deny that could be true. Then I realized I’m not giving up Chicago. I can live wherever I want and telecommute or hop a plane if need be, and be at the Chicago office in two hours. That’s hardly giving up Chicago.” />
  Jordana’s heart sped up at the implication of his solution. Was it possible that she and Clint could make this work? She didn’t want to get her hopes up but...the possibility filled her with elation. “But what about your Chicago office? Who will run it with Alex gone?”

  “Turns out Jeana is the most qualified. I leave Chicago in highly capable hands. Probably even better than before. I’m excited to see what she can do. Powerful women are sexy as hell.”

  She trembled as the full import of what he was saying hit her. “So you’re saying...”

  He pulled her to him, and she immediately softened. When Clint wrapped his arms around her, she felt home. “What I’m saying, Miss Colton,” Clint said in a low rumble, “is that I want to make a life with you here. In Braxville. What do you say to that?”

  She felt the tension in the room as everyone seemed to wait for her answer. There wasn’t time to be embarrassed at being the center of attention. Her future happiness depended on her answer.

  To say yes would be to throw caution to the wind and embrace the now, regardless of the potential outcome.

  To say no would be to condemn herself to knowing she’d pushed away the man of her dreams out of fear of the unknown.

  She wasn’t a coward. She needed to stop allowing fear to dictate her actions.

  Jordana slowly looped her arms around Clint’s neck, smiling as her heart fluttered with joy, saying, “I say...how good are you at kitchen demo?”

  “I’m pretty good at writing a check,” he answered with a grin. “But if it’s something you want to do together... I’ll figure it out.”

  That was exactly the right answer. As she lifted her mouth to his, the station erupted into applause. The loudest being Reese, the cheeky bastard. Partners were a pain in the ass but Reese was a good one.

  “Take her home,” Reese called out. “She needs a good...well, I think you can figure it out.”

  Clint hoisted her up on his hips and carried her out of the station amid the laughter as he called out over his shoulder, “I know exactly what she needs!”