“Don’t let go,” I pleaded. “Don’t ever let me go.”
“Never,” he promised, holding tighter.
Jordan’s voice was low in my ear as he set me on my feet. I lifted my head, bewildered when I realized we were on my porch.
“What…”
Jordan shook his head. “You have no shoes on, Sandy. Go inside and change into dry clothes.”
I clutched at his hand, feeling frantic. He wasn’t going to forgive me. “Don’t…please. I’m sorry. Please…you said you’d listen!”
He shook his head, cupping my face between his strong hands. “I have to move my car, my darling. Then I’ll come right back, and we’ll talk. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
He looked past me with a chuckle. “If it’s still there. I left it running in the middle of the street.”
I pushed him. “Go. Quickly.”
He opened the porch door, frowning at the squeak. “I need to fix this for you.”
“No. That was the sound that woke me. It brought me out to the porch.”
“All right, then. It stays.”
He hurried down the steps, and despite his assurances, I went to the door and watched as he ran down the street, got in his car, and reversed back into a spot close to the house. He shut off the car and strode back, his steps determined and swift.
I backed up as he came inside.
“Sandy, you’re soaking wet and shivering. You need dry clothes.” He stroked my cheek. “I’m right here.”
“Okay.”
Inside, I headed to my room, yanking off the wet clothes and tossing them in the hamper. I pulled on a warm sweater and a pair of yoga pants, then dried my wet hair, pinning it up once I was done. I felt much warmer after I slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks.
I found Jordan in the kitchen, brewing a pot of tea. He eyed me tenderly, holding out his hand. “That’s better.”
I went to him, letting him draw me close, shutting my eyes as another wave of emotion flooded me. I felt safe with him here. No longer worried or upset, just safe.
And loved.
“Shall we go sit down?” he asked. “We need to talk.”
“Yes.”
We sat on the sofa. Jordan bent down and picked up my headphones, lifting his eyebrow in a silent question.
“Noise-canceling headphones. I haven’t been sleeping well and I was so tired I thought a nap would help. I put them on to stop hearing the thunder. I must have rolled, and they fell off.”
“Then you heard the door squeak?”
I took a sip of my tea. “Not exactly.” As simply as I could, I explained my strange dream to Jordan. He listened, not interrupting, then rubbed his face.
“You really think Max was telling you I was here? To go to me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I heard the knocking in my sleep and somehow manifested it into the dream.” I shrugged.
He shook his head slowly. “But you think Max was here?”
“I’ve dreamed of him before,” I admitted. I extended my hand, clasping his. “You were right, Jordan. I was being a coward.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. I was upset.” He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my fingers. “You’re one of the bravest people I know.”
“No, I was scared. I felt so much for you and it worried me. I felt disloyal to Max and the years we spent together. As if they meant so little, I could move on and fall in love with someone else so fast. And the thought of loving you—maybe losing you one day—was too much too handle.”
Tears formed in my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. “I thought if I stopped it now, then the pain wouldn’t be too bad. I didn’t think you could mean as much to me as you did. But I was wrong. You were already there in my heart, and it hurt so much.”
I lifted my eyes to his, shocked to see tears glimmering in the depths of his green gaze. “You love me, Sandy?”
“Yes.”
He moved closer, cupping my cheek. “Good. Because I love you right back.”
He leaned his forehead to mine. “I can’t tell you the future, my darling. I can only say this. I’m fifty-nine, in good health, and I plan on being around for the next thirty or, god willing, forty years. And I want to spend those with you. If all we had were five days, five weeks, or five months, I would take it.”
“Jordan,” I sobbed.
“Don’t think about the amount of time we have—none of us knows that—think about how we can live it. We can build a life together. A good one. And dream or ghost, Max was right. This is our story now and how we choose to write it. Write it with me, Sandy. Let’s fill the pages with memories. Our memories.”
I flung my arms around his neck. “Yes.”
Hours later, I was still curled by his side, his arm holding me close. We talked, cleared the air, both of us expressing our fears and our hopes.
“I would prefer not to have Max popping into the rooms as we talk,” he admitted dryly. “That rather freaks me out.”
I had to laugh. “It’s only the occasional dream.” I sighed. “I somehow think he won’t be back.”
“No?” he asked, grazing my forehead with his lips.
“I think he knows his job is done. He can rest, knowing I’m happy. He always wanted me to be happy.”
“I’ll do my best.”
I rested my head back on his shoulder, peering up at him. “You do make me happy.”
“Good.”
“Sandy…” His voice trailed off.
“What?”
“As soon as you’re ready, I want you to sell this house and come live with me in the condo.”
I sat up, shocked. “That’s moving a bit fast, isn’t it?”
I shrugged. “Well, as you pointed out earlier, we aren’t getting any younger. In the meantime, we can furnish it together, making it ours. When you’re ready, you can move in.” He winked. “Hopefully, if I do my job right, soon.”
“How would your kids feel about that?”
He pursed his lips. “I think they would want me to be happy. Gina and Warren are coming soon for a week to help me sort some things and take what they want from the house and what’s in the warehouse. You can meet them, and we’ll take it from there.”
“Have it all planned out, do you?”
He grinned. “That’s my job, you know. I organize and facilitate. Bentley calls me an expert.”
“Yes, he does.”
“Think about it, Sandy. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, you’ll think about it, or yes, you’ll move in?”
“Both? I just need a little time, Jordan.”
He kissed me. Slowly and sweetly—I felt his adoration and love in that kiss.
“I love you,” he murmured.
It felt so good to hear those words, and to say them back.
“I love you too, Jordan.”
He was smiling as he kissed me again.
Sandy
The music swelled, and everyone chuckled as Van left his spot at the altar, walked down the aisle, and met Liv partway. He kissed her and they walked up the aisle together, with him holding her daughter Samantha—or Mouse, as Van called her—close, and holding Liv’s hand.
Their vows were simple, the ceremony short, no doubt in order to make sure Mouse didn’t get bored and wander off. Van had already bribed her with new sparkly shoes once to get her up the aisle.
I smiled through my tears. They were happy ones, not sad. My smile became wider as a handkerchief was tucked into my hand and Jordan drew me closer. I dabbed at my eyes and dared to glance at him. He was extraordinarily fond of Van and thought of him much like a son. They were good friends, and I knew how excited he was that Van had found a woman as wonderful as Liv. She was perfect for him. Van adored Sammy, and she returned his feelings tenfold. They made a lovely little family.
Jordan was smiling, despite his glistening eyes. I loved the fact that he showed and shared his emotions. He turned his head, meeting my gaze. He lifted his hand a
nd traced one finger down my cheek with an indulgent smile and tilted his head slightly toward the altar. Our eyes held a silent conversation.
That is going to be us—soon.
Slow your roll, Jordan.
Can’t, woman. No time to waste.
I tried not to laugh. As I was discovering, although he had the patience of a saint at work and was known for his meticulous ways, in his personal life, he tended to be more—impatient.
Since he’d shown up at my door on Saturday, I had lost count of the number of “dates” we had actually had. Aside from the office, and our nights, we were together. Lunches were shared in the park daily. Stolen kisses in the kitchen at the office. Flowers, chocolates, and my favorite pastries appeared by my keyboard. Sweet texts arrived at different moments of the day, always making me smile. Every evening, he appeared at my desk.
“Ready to go, my darling?” he would murmur. I would take his hand, and our evening would begin.
A couple of nights, I went to his house, helping him pack and sort. Anna obviously had exquisite taste, and I helped Jordan pick some pieces to go to his new place. A few nights, he came to my place and we cooked dinner, working well together in the kitchen. He was a great cook, especially his seafood pasta—which I loved so much, I made him promise to make me every week.
But when the evening was over, we separated. I knew Jordan wasn’t comfortable in Max’s house, and I didn’t want to share a bed in the same room he’d shared with Anna. I had no problem cuddling on the sofa, sharing long, passionate kisses in my kitchen, but there was a line there neither of us wanted to cross.
Which was why, Jordan informed me yesterday, he had booked us a hotel room for the night.
“There is no way I can hold you close, dance with you, then drop you off at home,” he informed me when I asked why. “I’ve been patient, my darling. You can only ask a man to take so much.”
I had held in my amusement, because frankly, I was feeling the same way.
This afternoon when he picked me up, he had stood back, sweeping his gaze over me head to toe in a long, lazy glance. Then he shook his head.
“Thank god.”
“I’m sorry?” I asked.
“Thank god I booked that hotel room. You look like a million bucks.” He ran a hand over his face. “I hope there is dancing. I want to see you move in that sexy number.”
I tried not to blush but failed. Jordan had that effect on me. I had bought another new dress—this one in a deep emerald-green color, with layers of beads that reminded me of a flapper dress from the twenties. It was held up with slender straps on my shoulders and barely skimmed my knees. It shimmered and danced when I moved, the beads almost musical as they bounced and swayed. I had my hair up, showing off my neck and shoulders, which, thank god, were still firm, the skin taut. I carried the lovely shawl Jordan had bought me in Boston.
From the look on Jordan’s face and the force of his kiss, I had a feeling he was looking forward to seeing the dress on the floor of the hotel room.
After the dancing.
He’d been close all afternoon, tucking me to his side, running his fingers over my bare shoulder, dropping a kiss to my skin on occasion. We laughed and enjoyed the outpouring of love that surrounded the event.
I danced with all my boys, each of them trying to outdo the other. Maddox was his usual suave, graceful self on the dance floor. Aiden spun me around to a fast number, gyrating his hips and making me laugh as Cami shook her head at his antics. Van and Halton were both solicitous partners. Reid made my heart ache with his awkward, sweet, fumbling attempt at a waltz. He kept apologizing, and he seemed grateful when Bentley stepped in, tapping him on the shoulder firmly.
“My turn—before you injure her.”
I smiled as we moved, Bentley’s footwork perfect, his leading confident. He was an excellent dancer. He peered down at me. “You’re happy.”
It was a statement, not a question.
“Very.”
“Jordan can’t keep his eyes off of you.”
I glanced over his shoulder, looking at Jordan. He sat with the family I had created, at ease and smiling. He was talking to Reid, leaning forward, his arms resting on his thighs. He was nodding and listening to whatever Reid was saying, but his gaze was focused on me. Intent and dark with longing. His lips curled into a smile when he saw me watching him, and he threw me a subtle wink.
I felt my blush creep up my neck, and I cursed under my breath. “Damn that man, he does this to me all the time.”
Bentley grinned, swinging me around. “It’s good to see.”
I met his blue gaze. He was relaxed and happy—a changed man from the one I had worried would never allow himself to feel for another person.
“I’ve fallen in love with him, Bentley,” I confessed.
He cocked his head. “I can see that.”
“How do you feel about that?” I asked.
He twirled me again. “I think the question is, how do you feel about it?”
“I feel good.”
“It shows.” His grip on my waist tightened. “That’s all I—we—want for you, Sandy. For you to be happy.”
“I spoke to Aaron this week. He called me.”
“And he said…?” Bentley let the question trail away, watching me closely. He knew I was close with Max’s son. Our friendship had been strong all through my relationship with his father.
I smiled, recalling Aaron’s words.
“Colin tells me you’re seeing someone.”
“Oh, ah, yes, I am,” I replied, the worry evident in my voice.
“Why did I hear it from him, Sandy?”
“I wasn’t sure how to tell you. How you would react,” I confessed.
He chuckled. “You dating again? I’m thrilled. You should be living and enjoying, Sandy.” His voice became teasing. “Is he younger? Finally got your boy toy?”
“No, my age.” I swallowed. “It’s Jordan Hayes from the office.”
“Ah, great guy. Dad liked him.”
“Yes. I—I like him as well.”
“I figured.” Then he paused dramatically. “Jeez—I’m not gonna have to call him Dad, am I? It was hard enough to explain a stepmom my age, never mind if I have to face that too,” he teased.
I laughed with him. “I think Jordan will do.”
“Whew. I’m coming down in a few weeks to meet him. Give him the gears.”
“I’ll warn him.”
“You do that.”
“He was fine. He’s coming to meet Jordan. ‘Give him the gears,’ I think he said.”
“Jordan’s up to the task. I have no worries.” Bentley smirked, leading me in a twirl.
“I think so too. Jordan looks forward to meeting him.”
Bentley winked. “Then things are progressing well. I’m pleased.”
A hand appeared, tapping Bentley on the shoulder. “Sorry to cut in, Bentley, but all you boys have stolen my woman long enough,” Jordan stated.
Bentley chuckled, good-natured. “I supposed we have had her long enough. We have to share.”
The meaning behind his words was obvious. Jordan smiled. “Yeah, you have. I’ve got it from here.”
Bentley leaned down and kissed my cheek. He placed my hand in Jordan’s and clapped him on the shoulder. “Yes, I think you do.”
The hotel room was spacious and comfortable. We barely made it in the door before Jordan had me in his arms, heading for the bed. I laughed as I clung to his shoulders. He made me feel special—safe and protected.
He set me beside the bed, turning me around and unzipping my dress. He followed the path of the zipper with his lips, kissing down my spine.
“Jesus, you’re naked under here,” he groaned and spun me around, hooking the thin straps down my arms. “Shimmy for me one more time tonight, Sandy.”
I did as he requested, the sparkling dress glittering at my feet.
My grin matched his. “Lose the suit.”
In seconds, he was nak
ed, his well-tailored clothes tossed behind him.
“I want to have you with those shoes on, my darling,” he breathed out.
“You can have me any way you want me.”
He groaned and sank to his knees. He tugged off one shoe, then the other, both of them added to the pile behind him, carelessly discarded. “Later,” he promised, kissing his way up my leg.
I shivered as he stroked his hands up, smoothing them over the backs of my thighs, pulling me flush to his mouth, kissing my center. “Right now, I need you. All of you.”
He cupped my ass, stroking and kneading. “I hope you don’t expect to get much sleep tonight.”
Peering down, I smiled. “No.”
He stood, tossing me on the bed as if I weighed nothing. He crawled up the mattress, hovering over me. “Good.”
I pulled him down to my mouth. “Yes, it is.”
With a low groan, he kissed me.
And I was lost.
I sighed in contentment, curled up against Jordan’s shoulder. He brushed his hand up and down my arm in long, gentle passes. I felt his breath stir my hair, the warmth of his skin under my cheek, and the strength of his muscles under my fingers.
“All right, my darling?”
I peeked up at him. “More than all right.”
“You were wonderful.”
I chuckled, running my fingers over his chest. “You were rather spectacular yourself.”
I felt his smile against my head. “We’re spectacular together.”
I hummed in agreement. The room was quiet for a few moments, both of us basking in the warmth of the moment.
“Your feet still sore?”
I wiggled my toes. “A little. I danced a lot, and those heels were high.”
“Those heels were sexy. So was that damn dress. They were made for you to dance in.” He chuckled low in his chest. “And for me to look at you while you did.”
“I’m glad you liked them.”
He pulled me closer. “I like how you feel in my arms, Sandy. We should go dancing more. There are a couple of clubs with special dance nights for waltzing and the like. Would you like to go?”
The thought of dancing with Jordan thrilled me. He was an excellent dancer—as confident as Bentley, but with more experience. He had proved to be an excellent partner tonight, surprising me with his moves.
Sandy: Vested Interest #7 Page 15