by K. C. Wells
Jordan held up his hands defensively. “Far be it from me to argue with your interpretation of the role. I happen to like sassy boyfriends.” He nodded toward the door to the bathroom. “Do you want to freshen up?”
Brady glanced down at his slim-fitting white shirt, open at the collar. “Will this do? Or should I change?”
Jordan thought he looked just perfect. “You’re fine. Let’s go meet the other guests.” It occurred to him that he had no idea how many people were going to be there that weekend.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Brady said with a smile.
That was when it hit Jordan. For all his new confidence, Brady was nervous.
“And I’ll be right here,” Jordan replied reassuringly. He didn’t miss the expression of relief on Brady’s face, and his initial reaction was to pull Brady into a hug, to hold him close and let him know it would all be fine. The last thing he wanted was for Brady to feel ill at ease.
The progression had been so gradual that Jordan had hardly noticed, but somehow during the last month, Brady had gone from being an efficient but forgettable PA to a warm, intelligent, funny guy who stirred something deep inside him.
A guy Jordan wanted to spend more time with. His only regret was that Brady was there as a favor to Jordan. This wasn’t real, as much as Jordan wanted it to be.
THERE were maybe seven or eight people in the living room, a fairly even mix of men and women. Drake was chatting with his guests as he mixed cocktails in a shaker and poured wine, and a boy and girl—both in their teens, by the look of it—were circulating, handing out canapés. Brady loved how the boy’s eyes lit up with genuine delight when he saw Jordan. Brady left Jordan talking eagerly with the kids and went to fetch him a drink.
Drake frowned. “Have we met? I have the strangest feeling I’ve seen you before.”
Brady smiled politely. “Nashville, Mr. Daniels. I was attending the convention with Jordan.”
Drake’s eyes widened, and then he nodded slowly. “I see. I’m sorry. I had no idea the two of you were—”
“We weren’t. Not then, at any rate. This is a fairly recent… development,” Brady said truthfully.
“I see.” Drake appeared lost for words.
Belinda appeared at Brady’s side. “Is there a reason why Brady is standing here without a drink?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
Drake arched his eyebrows but didn’t respond. “What can I get you, Brady?”
Brady glanced at the rows of bottles. “Two glasses of the rosé would be perfect.” He recalled Jordan’s choice of wine when they’d had dinner.
Belinda chuckled. “He still drinks rosé, huh? Nice to see some things don’t change.” When Brady gave her an inquiring glance, she smiled. “Any time we went out together in our final year at college, either to a party or a bar, Jordan had no interest in beer. He always preferred wine, especially rosé.” She waited until Drake handed him the two glasses, then accompanied him away from the drinks table.
“What was Jordan like in college?” Brady was trying to picture him, but what kept coming into his mind was Jordan in his tight jeans, the day he’d visited Brady. Jordan was still talking animatedly with the kids, his eyes bright.
“Focused.” Then she grinned. “Drake used to say he was too focused, so his way to get Jordan to loosen up a little was to throw a guy in his path.”
Brady laughed. “Did it work?”
Belinda smothered a loud chuckle. “Sometimes they’d date for all of three or four weeks; Jordan would decide his grades were slipping, and adios, boyfriend.” She studied Jordan for a moment. “He always knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to put in the hours of studying to make it happen. I just think that sometimes, what he really needed was….” That intense gaze didn’t falter.
Brady was intrigued. “What?”
Belinda sighed. “Someone to love. To be a goof with. To show him that studying wasn’t everything. That it was okay to share moments of… intimacy with someone.” She flushed. “By then, I already knew I wanted Drake in my life, so maybe that colored my thinking. But Jordan never let anyone get really close.” Belinda blinked. “I’ve known you all of five minutes, and yet here I am, sharing confidences with you.”
Brady had wondered about that himself. “Maybe I’ve just got one of those faces that inspires trust,” he suggested.
Belinda shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s the way you looked at each other when you were standing on my doorstep.” She smiled. “I was watching through the window. The two of you looked… good together. Like you fit. So maybe there’s hope yet.”
“Hope?”
Belinda looked across at Jordan. “That he’s found someone who completes him. Heaven knows, it needed to happen.” Then she drew herself up. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t comment on your relationship.”
Brady smiled, though inwardly his heart skipped a beat. A relationship with Jordan. What wouldn’t he give for that? Not that he was under any illusions. Such a liaison would only lead to complications neither of them needed.
That didn’t stop him from wanting more, however. The heart was not a logical organ.
He had no clue what madness seized him, but he couldn’t stop the words from escaping.
“Jordan is… amazing. I’ve gotten to see what lies beneath the surface, and there’s so much more to him than I imagined. And the more time I spend with him, the more I see.”
Belinda glanced over his shoulder, and then Jordan was there, his warm, spicy cologne announcing his arrival long before Brady felt Jordan’s hand at his back.
“I thought I’d better get over here, seeing as my drink never made its way to me.”
Brady chuckled and handed him the glass. “And you’re clearly dying of thirst.”
“That would be my fault,” Belinda said with an apologetic glance. “I kept him talking.”
“Should my ears be burning?” Jordan’s eyes sparkled.
Brady’s gaze met Belinda’s, and they both smiled.
Belinda patted Jordan on the arm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go make sure everyone has a drink.” She walked off toward a couple standing by the window, looking out at the yard.
Jordan leaned in close. “You okay?”
Brady slowly turned his head to look Jordan in the eye. “I’m good. And I like Belinda. Drake, on the other hand, seemed a little surprised to see me.”
Jordan sighed. “Which means at some point this evening, he’ll corner me, dying to know more.” His hand was still resting against Brady’s back, and the intimacy of his stance set up a fluttering in Brady’s belly.
Before he could give himself time to change his mind, Brady shifted even closer and whispered, “Want to really give him something to talk about?” He cupped Jordan’s cheek and moved in for a kiss.
Jordan stilled for a moment but then seemed to melt under his touch, and he realized with a shock that Jordan was returning the kiss.
Oh my God.
Chapter Fourteen
JORDAN hadn’t seen the kiss coming, but God, it felt good. Awkward, with a glass in one hand, but so damn good. Feeling Brady’s warmth through the thin shirt, his hand, so gentle on Jordan’s cheek, his lips, soft as silk against Jordan’s…. It was an intoxicating moment, one he didn’t want to stop.
What surprised him was the thought that flitted through his brain.
Please, don’t let this be just for Drake’s benefit.
Because that would really suck. What was even more of a surprise was how badly Jordan wanted it to be more than just an act.
But like all good things, it had to end sometime. When they parted, Brady’s eyes were huge. “Wow.”
Jordan scanned his face, searching for some sign that this was real. “I like the way you kiss.”
Brady smiled, his cheeks flushed. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing.” He cleared his throat and stepped back with a glance around them. “Sorry. I’m not usually into public displays.”
“Don’t apologize on my account.” Jordan grinned. “I have no complaints whatsoever.” It wasn’t like anyone was staring at them, thank God. He sipped his wine, then sighed. “Good choice, by the way.” What he really wanted to say was “Why did you kiss me?” Only, he was afraid he wouldn’t like the answer.
“Uncle Jordan, who is this?” Dawn appeared at Jordan’s elbow, gazing directly at Brady, her eyes bright. Marty joined her.
Jordan shook his head. “We really need to work on your tact. And this is Brady. He’s my… boyfriend.” The word tasted strange on his lips, yet not unpleasant. He turned to Brady. “This is Dawn and Marty. They’re both pests, so you’ve been warned.”
“Hey!” Dawn hit him on the arm.
“And that will be quite enough of that, young lady.” Belinda appeared behind her. “What did I say?”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “If we don’t behave, we have to go to our rooms.”
Jordan loved the typical teenage reaction.
“What’s so bad about that?” Marty whispered as Belinda walked away from them. “At least I can play my games there.” He glanced around. “It’s just old people in here.”
Jordan gave him a mock glare. “Well, thanks for that.” Beside him, Brady was chuckling.
Marty’s eyes widened. “Not you, Uncle Jordan.” He gave Jordan a shy smile. “It’s great to see you.” He gazed at Brady. “So, how long have you been dating? One of my friends at school, his older brother just got married to a guy. I think it’s cool.”
Brady appeared utterly charmed by the kids. “Not long.” He took Jordan’s hand in his. “I’m glad Jordan asked me along for the weekend.”
Jordan was getting used to the little touches, the intimate gestures. He squeezed Brady’s hand, holding on to it, and Brady’s eyes shone, his lips parting slightly.
Jordan’s heartbeat sped up at the unexpected reaction. That was real. That was for him.
Dawn disappeared for a moment, then reappeared clutching a large tray. “Here, try some of these.” She leaned closer. “I’d avoid the chicken wings if I were you. They’re sticky. But the hogs in a blanket are great. The sausage is spicy. I helped make the crab cakes and dip too.”
“Which is a good reason to avoid them too,” Marty said with a gleam in his eye. “Unless you really want a trip to the emergency room.”
Dawn glared at her brother. “Hush, you, or I’ll tell Mom why we only have twenty miniburgers instead of twenty-five.”
Marty responded with a glare of equal force. “You wouldn’t.”
Dawn gave a sweet smile that didn’t fool Jordan for an instant. “Wanna bet?”
Brady laughed. “And to think I missed out on all this by being an only child.” He helped himself to a cheese-and-bacon crostini and a miniburger. “Thanks.”
“Those crostini look delicious,” Jordan commented.
“Here, find out for yourself.” Brady held the canapé up to Jordan’s lips, smiling. “Excuse the fingers.”
Jordan took the morsel in one bite, and Brady’s fingers encountered his lips. Brady’s eyes grew wide, and Jordan suddenly wished they weren’t in a room full of people.
Belinda was back, and Brady hastily retrieved his fingers. “Dawn, you need to make sure everyone gets served. Marty, can you go into the kitchen and pick up the other tray, please?”
Marty nodded and left the room.
“Is this everyone?” Jordan asked, gesturing to the other guests. He didn’t recognize anyone.
Belinda shook her head. “There are more coming tomorrow night for the party.” She smiled. “You two are the only ones staying here. Everyone else is staying at the Mill House Inn or the Baker House. Mara couldn’t make it tonight. Something came up, so she’s flying in tomorrow.”
“Mara?”
“Mara Stewart. She’s on the board of a lot of the charities I work with.”
Jordan blinked. “Wow. I didn’t realize you moved in such exalted social circles. I’m impressed.” He turned to Brady. “Mara’s husband is—”
“Tate Stewart,” Brady interjected. “He’s a billionaire, right? I see him in the financial headlines all the time.”
Belinda nodded. “Except lately he’s more likely to be seen in the gossip columns. They’re in the middle of a divorce, and it isn’t pretty. I’ve gotten to know Mara really well, and I thought she needed a break from all that. When I invited her, she jumped at the chance.” Belinda’s smile slipped. “She’s had a rough ride.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’d better see to our guests.” She smiled at Brady before heading over to talk to a guy standing with Drake.
Brady watched her. “I really do like her. And those kids… they’re great.”
Jordan nodded. “I don’t get to see them all that often, but I’ve known them since they were born.” He sighed. “Real life gets in the way, I guess. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen Drake and Belinda in the past ten years or so. Considering how close we were in college, that’s pretty bad.”
Brady touched his arm lightly. “You just said it. Real life gets in the way. And think about what you’ve accomplished since you left college. That company. How many people out there have a job because of you? Not just in New York but in other cities across the country. At least you’re here. I’m sure they’re delighted you came.”
Jordan gave him a grateful smile. “And I’m delighted you said yes. I’m glad you’re here.” When the impulse seized him, he almost denied it, but then he recalled Brady’s kiss. Two can play at that game. Jordan leaned in and kissed Brady on the mouth, not missing the soft exhale that slipped from Brady’s lips.
Kissing him felt… right. Jordan knew he wasn’t doing it for appearances’ sake—he was doing it because, God, he really wanted to kiss Brady.
BRADY broke the kiss first, his breathing ragged. “This is getting to be a habit.” The last place he wanted to be right then was in a room full of people. Jordan’s kiss messed with his head and stirred him all up inside. Brady had set this particular ball rolling. He knew that, but for Jordan to act upon it made him hope that maybe Phil was right. Maybe Jordan did care for him. Maybe there really was something there after all.
A cough from behind him had Brady straightening in an instant. What was it about Jordan that made him forget his surroundings, along with any modicum of sense? Brady had never lost himself in such a fashion.
“I was going to ask if you wanted a refill, but you seemed… occupied.”
Brady didn’t miss the note of amusement in Drake’s voice.
Jordan cleared his throat. “Thanks, but I’ve barely touched my first.”
Drake arched his eyebrows. “Color me not surprised. You’ve been too busy with each other to drink.” He gave Jordan a stern glance. “Really, you could have told me back in Nashville, you know. That you were already seeing someone? Because it’s obvious from watching you two that this isn’t a recent development.” His stare morphed into a warm smile. “I’ve never seen you this smitten before, Jordan. It’s a good look on you.” And with that he left them to attend to his guests.
Brady regarded Jordan thoughtfully. Smitten? For a moment he didn’t know what to say, but then he retreated into humor. “Wow. I guess we’re really good, if that’s what he thinks. Maybe Oscar material.”
Jordan snickered. “Well, if we keep kissing in front of him….” His gaze met Brady’s. “You didn’t mind? I didn’t overstep the mark?”
“Hey, I started this,” Brady said with a smile. “And to answer your question… not in the least. Feel free to kiss me whenever the urge takes you.”
Jordan’s eyes gleamed. “Dangerous. You never know where an urge will lead you.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Damn, but this conversation was getting him hot.
“Here, try these!” Marty bounced up alongside him, proffering another tray of canapés.
Brady gave a start. “Might I suggest not making the guests leap out of their skins?” he said with a grin. He peered
at the tray. “These look delicious.” He took a circle of pita, on which was piled cream cheese and smoked salmon.
Before he’d even gotten it to his mouth, Jordan helped himself to a couple. “I’ll feed myself this time,” he said with a smirk. “Seeing as I almost ended up snacking on your fingers last time.”
Brady experienced a sudden flash of heat at the thought of Jordan sucking on his finger. Down, boy. It had been way too long since he’d gotten any. He did his best not to look in Jordan’s direction as he ate, because he didn’t want to picture those lips elsewhere.
Right on cue, his dick stiffened, and Brady cursed the fact that his jeans were so goddamn tight.
At this rate he wasn’t going to get through the weekend. Not without making a move on Jordan, at least, and the way heat was building between them, that was looking more and more like a fait accompli. The prospect of sharing a room sent waves of hot and cold rippling over his skin. Brady could no longer deny that he wanted Jordan—just looking at him had Brady’s thoughts going off in all sorts of delicious directions—but as to how he made his desires known?
He had yet to work that out.
JORDAN had to admit, so far it had been a great evening. He hadn’t expected a sit-down dinner, not for twelve people, but the capacious dining table accommodated all of them. The room itself was spacious, with five huge windows on two sides. At one end of the room was a fireplace, around which were three couches, with an upright piano tucked into an alcove. At the other was the dining area, and the floor-to-ceiling windows opened out onto the patio, with the kitchen off to one side. The vaulted ceiling and pale blue walls gave the room a light, airy feel.
He pushed out a contented sigh. “That was delicious, Belinda.”
She laughed. “Alas, unlike the canapés, I cannot take credit for the meal. Everything was catered. There was no way I was going to cook for this number of people, not unless I wanted to spend the entire weekend in the kitchen.” She flashed Drake a smile. “That was the first item on the list when it came to planning this get-together, wasn’t it?”