by Jaci Burton
MAGNOLIA SUMMER
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, October 2004
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
1337 Commerce Drive, #13
Stow, OH 44224
ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0009-9
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML
MAGNOLIA SUMMER © 2004 JACI BURTON
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Edited by Briana St. James.
Cover art by Syneca.
Magnolia Summer
Jaci Burton
Dedication
To Charlie. This one’s all yours. If not for you, I’d never have started this book, which to this day remains a special one for both of us. If not for you, I’d never have found the magical love that inspires me. You’re the reason for this book, and you’re the reason for my happiness. I love you, babe.
Chapter One
Jordan Weston drew a deep breath as she stood outside, staring intently at the sign that said TNT Construction.
It was bad enough she had to be here in Magnolia. The town held nothing but bitter memories for her and the sooner she got out, the better. She had a life waiting for her back in New York. South Carolina may have been where she was born and raised, but it wasn’t her home anymore.
One more task…one more huge task, and she’d be out of here. And if it meant walking through those doors and facing her past, she’d do it. Anything to get away from the memories.
She kicked her flagging courage in gear and walked through the doors, reminding herself her dream was at stake. It didn’t matter who owned TNT Construction, she needed the company to do the job. And if it required her to see Sam again, so be it.
The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the humid South Carolina summer heat. A young, attractive blonde sat behind a large oak desk in the center of the office and smiled at her.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked, the lashes on her blue eyes loaded with so much mascara it was a wonder she could even see.
Fashion in small-town South Carolina was quite different than New York City. Had Jordan ever dressed the same way as the woman sitting at the desk? Had she worn too much makeup? It had been so long she couldn’t remember.
Or, like most things about Magnolia, she didn’t want to remember.
“Yes, I’m here to see Sam Tanner.” The last person Jordan wanted to see in Magnolia, but she had no choice. He was the only one who could help her.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I’m sorry I don’t. I’m inquiring about hiring the company for a project.”
The woman picked up the phone, her long painted fingernails tapping one of the buttons. “I’ll let Sam know you’re here. Can I have your name?”
“Jordan Weston.” He probably didn’t even remember her. Fourteen years was a long time. And they hadn’t even dated. She’d simply been another one of the girls Sam had annoyed and teased.
Except for that one time.
Once he had kissed her.
It probably hadn’t meant anything to Sam. But it had meant everything to Jordan’s sixteen-year-old heart. Wrapped up in that kiss was desire, yearning, and those first feelings of love. Everything a girl dreamed about.
But that first crush, her first kiss, was a long time ago.
A lot had happened since then. She’d changed, and the simple crises of life in Magnolia weren’t as critical any longer.
What was critical was getting the house fixed up and sold so she could get the hell out of here again.
The receptionist hung up and looked at Jordan. “Someone will be with you shortly. Please take a seat.”
Taking a seat near the window, Jordan turned to look outside. Magnolia hadn’t changed much since she’d been gone, its small-town ambience and charm still evident in the quaint brick and frame buildings lining Main Street, their signs proudly proclaiming family-owned businesses.
She remembered the trips into town on Saturdays and shopping with Grandma when she was little. They came almost every weekend, and the shop merchants knew her well, sometimes giving her candy. Those were the good memories.
Every memory of time spent with her grandmother was a good one. Now that Grandma was gone, she could forever cut her ties to this place.
After Grandma’s funeral last month, she never planned to return to Magnolia. Grandma was her last surviving link to the town, and her one and only real parent. Jordan’s mother had always been too wrapped up in screwing up her own life to take the time to raise her.
Grandma always told Jordan to live her life, and never look back. And she had. That’s why she went to New York in the first place and why she didn’t return except for occasional visits to see Grandma.
Over the years, her trips had slowed, and finally stopped. Grandma loved New York and Jordan brought her up to visit a couple times a year, making sure to score tickets to the latest musicals.
Until Grandma had gotten too old and too frail to make the journey, and Jordan hadn’t been able to bring herself to return to Magnolia. Grandma had understood, but Jordan would never forgive herself for not seeing Grandma one last time.
Now here she was, back again. The news from Grandma’s attorney forced her to return, at least for awhile. Which was why she was at TNT Construction and preparing to see Sam Tanner again.
The double doors behind the reception area opened. Jordan heard two men’s voices just inside, but couldn’t see either of them. She took a deep breath and waited.
He wasn’t going to remember her, she was certain. And it was only one kiss. Hardly memorable at all. To him.
A deep voice bellowed from behind the door. “That’s bullshit, Tony, and you know it. The project was bid and accepted over six months ago. Tell the clients to get up off their dead asses, quit trying to screw us over on the price and let’s get moving on it.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do, you moron. You don’t have to scream in my ear.” A tall, good-looking man with sandy blond hair and bedroom brown eyes strolled through the doorway. “I’m not deaf, you know.” He turned and paused to smile at the receptionist, clearly not upset at all by the altercation that just occurred. “Later, Cookie.”
“Later, Tony,” the receptionist replied in a breathy voice, her lustful gaze following the attractive man towards the door.
Cookie? The girl’s name was Cookie? Jordan fought back a laugh.
Tony paused at the door and noticed Jordan sitting there. “Somebody helping you, honey?”
Jordan stood to address him but before she could respond, a voice from the doorway announced, “I’ll take care of her.” She couldn’t see who was speaking because Tony blocked her view.
Tony looked over his shoulder and then back at Jordan, grinning broadly. “Yeah, I’m sure you will. What a shame, honey. You’d have liked me better.” He winked at her and left.
As soon as Tony left, Jordan saw the other man. She wished she was still sitting because the vision greeting her almost knocked her off her feet.
Six-foot-two of drop-dead gorgeous man filled the doorway. He wore a TNT Construction polo shirt stretched tight across his chest and jeans that fit his muscled thighs like a second skin. His hair was jet black, cut short and straight. Turquoise eyes glittered with light, just like the ocean she’d seen on a trip to Mexico. This guy could be a New York model in a heartbeat. Beefcake like that didn’t go unnoticed in the fashion world there.
She’d expected him to age badly. Or maybe she had just hoped he would. Instead, he’d grown into his body and had gone from good-looking boy to damned breathtaking man.
It figured.
“Well,” he said, leisurely strolling over to stand in front of Jordan, towering over her five foot six inches. “Jordan Lee Weston, big city girl, back in Magnolia.” His lethal smile and penetrating eyes still took her breath away.
“Sam,” she replied in a voice that sounded too low and sexy to be her own. Breathe, Jordan, breathe. You can face the sharks in New York City, you sure as hell can handle small-town lover boy Sam Tanner.
“It’s been a long time.” His deep, resonating voice settled over her, warming her from the inside out. Melting the icy wall she had built, sparking a long dormant flame to life.
“Yes, it has.” So he’s still hot—no, hotter—than you remembered. Think business. Think money. Think anything but his piercing eyes, and the way he smells, so masculine, so overwhelmingly…potent.
What was wrong with her? She should say something, but her mind was a blank. She was, after all, a magna cum laude graduate who was usually never at a loss for words. Until now, standing to face with the man of her girlhood fantasies. A man who had matured beyond the boyish good looks of high school, into a very tall, devastating specimen of masculinity.
“Let’s go to my office,” he said, breaking the spell that had rendered her temporarily mute.
Jordan followed Sam through the doorway, noticing Cookie’s eyebrows arch in curiosity as she passed by. Ah yes, the gossip mill’s wheels were beginning to turn already. She could only imagine what was going through the young woman’s mind at the moment, but wagered Cookie would be picking up the phone shortly in an attempt to gather information about Jordan.
Sam directed her into his spacious office behind the reception area. A large oak desk sat in the middle of the room, two gray cloth chairs placed in front. The credenza was neatly stacked with papers on the left and a computer in the center. Organized, wasn’t he?
A large picture window provided an ample view of Main Street’s activity. Sam motioned for her to take a seat as he sat behind the desk.
“Let’s see,” he said in a voice much deeper than Jordan remembered. “Last time I saw you was at the Spring Fling Dance. You were a junior and I was a senior. I cornered you in the hall outside the gym, gave you one seriously hot kiss, and you ran like a scared rabbit.”
He did remember. Damn.
“You still have that frightened rabbit look about you, Jordan. Surely you’re not afraid of me now, are you?” His killer smile made Jordan feel much warmer than she should in the cool office.
Jordan lifted her chin. “I was never afraid of you,” she lied. Not much anyway. Sam terrified her back then. Made her want things she had no business wanting.
Things she hadn’t thought about since she’d left town after graduation. Things she didn’t want to be thinking about now.
“I always wondered why you ran when I kissed you. It couldn’t have been the kiss. None of the other girls ever ran away.” He obviously thought himself quite amusing because he grinned. “In fact, I’d been told by those same girls that I was one hell of a kisser.”
She wanted to laugh at his arrogance, but he wasn’t lying. The other girls were right. Sam was one hell of a kisser. Enough to fire up Jordan’s teenage sex drive and flame a desire she’d never felt before. Enough to make her run.
Jordan shrugged off his comments. “It’s been fourteen years, Sam. I hardly remember that kiss.” Yeah, right. Only every time someone else kissed her. And not one ever came close to generating the fire stirred by that kiss all those years ago.
She still remembered his lips sliding over hers, claiming her, possessing her, his tongue exploring the recesses of her mouth and igniting her youthful passions until she realized what she’d been doing and ran like hell.
“Well, maybe you don’t, but I remember it well.” His eyes held hers for a moment, and Jordan thought she saw some flicker of emotion pass through them, but then it disappeared. “You here on business, Jordan, or just want to catch up on old times?” The sensuous look in his eyes was gone. He smiled at her in an easy manner.
How quickly he could turn the charm on and off. Typical for men like him. “I came to talk to you about Belle Coeur. I’ve inherited the estate and it needs some repair.”
“I heard about Viola’s passing, Jordan. I was out of town and couldn’t make the funeral. I’m very sorry.”
“Thank you,” she said, noticing the expression of sympathy on his face. She looked away, not wanting to feel the pain of grieving over Grandma. “Anyway, I’d like to hire TNT Construction to do the repairs.”
That was really a lie, too. Jordan didn’t want to have anything to do with Sam Tanner, but she’d already found out TNT was the only company in town capable of the extensive work needed on Belle Coeur.
“What kind of repairs are we talking about?” Sam took out a yellow notepad and grabbed a pen from the cup on his desk.
She crossed her legs and sat back in the chair, relaxing a bit now that the subject was on the house and not their kiss. “I really have no idea. I know the place is in disrepair, and probably requires a lot of work, but I don’t know exactly what needs to be done.”
Sam’s gaze followed her movements, shifting to her legs before he quickly looked up, a smile curving his generous lips. She pulled at the hem of her short cotton skirt, wishing she had worn pants instead.
“It depends on what your plans are for the property.”
“I intend to sell Belle Coeur.”
“Sell it?” Surprise clearly showed on his face. “Are you sure that’s what Viola would have wanted? I thought Belle Coeur had been in your family for generations.”
She nodded, ignoring the stab of guilt. “Yes, it has, but I have no intention of coming back here to live. My life is somewhere else now, and that’s where I intend to stay. I have plans.”
Big plans. With the money she’d make from the sale of Belle Coeur, she could realize her dream of starting a theater in New York. She pushed aside the pangs of regret she felt whenever she thought about selling her family home, refusing to give into emotion. This was a business decision.
“Ah yes, New York, isn’t it?” At her affirmative nod, he continued. “Home of the theater. Right up your dramatic alley isn’t it?” His tone was sarcastic, and Jordan could just imagine what he was thinking. Geeky high school Drama Club president seeks fame and fortune in New York.
She smiled, betraying nothing of her irritation at his comments. “Why yes, as a matter of fact it is.”
“Thought you’d get over that whole theater thing after high school. Guess not.”
Her ire rising by the moment, she shot back, “Thought you’d get over being a sarcastic asshole after high school. Guess not.”
A wry smile curved those generous lips. “Touché. So you’re still in theater, I take it?”
“Yes, Assistant Director at the Manhattan Community Playhouse.” At least for now. Until she could buy her own company. Then she’d be an owner, able to produce and direct her own plays.
“What? You’re not an actress?”
Somehow the way he said actress sounded like an insult. Now she was getting annoyed. “Do you have some problem with my choice of career?”
His grin widened, irritating the hell out of her. “Would it matter to you if I did?”
Despite wanting to slap the grin off his face, she shook her head and graced him with a benign smile. “Not in the least. Would it matter to you if I thought you were an arrogant prick?”
Mimicking her response, he said lightly, “Not in the least.”
Now she remembered how much he’d aggravated her in high school, always teasing and embarrassing her. The one boy she had a fierce crush on, and he thought of her as a
drama nerd. Apparently still did. Just like Magnolia, Sam hadn’t changed.
“I’d like to keep this relationship professional, Sam. We don’t have a history together, in fact weren’t even friends. Now are you interested in my business, or should I take it elsewhere?”
Sam rose and approached her. She stood, the instinct to back away warring with the desire to stand her ground and show Sam she wasn’t afraid of being close to him. Even if her heart was pounding.
Enigmatic turquoise eyes captured her. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t.
“Sorry, you can’t take your business elsewhere. I’m the only game in town, so it looks like you’re stuck with me. Now if you’d like, I’ll come by tomorrow, take a look at the place and give you a bid on repairs.”
He’d come by? Didn’t he have other people to do those kinds of things for him? The thought of having to see him yet again unnerved her.
“Couldn’t you send someone else?”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “Why? Are you afraid to be alone with me?”
Damn. Why did she ask him that? Jordan refused to be afraid of him. Let him come by and do the estimate himself. After all, she had no lingering feelings for him. Maybe if she kept telling herself that she’d begin to believe it. Fat chance.
“Of course I’m not afraid to be alone with you. I just don’t like your attitude.”
Sam laughed at her. “My attitude? You mean my interest, don’t you?”
“Interest? Hardly.” Sam was no more interested in her than she was in him.
“I think I still scare you Jordan, but is it because you’re afraid of men, afraid of me, or afraid of yourself?”
Their gazes locked and she wondered if he had any idea how close he’d come to pinpointing all of her fears.
When she didn’t answer he shrugged. “But if you don’t trust yourself to be alone with me, I’ll be happy to send Tony.”
Jordan sensed she’d been set up. If she asked him to send Tony, Sam would know it had something to do with how she felt about him. And she’d be damned if she’d turn tail and run now. This wasn’t high school, and she wasn’t afraid of him. She tried to appear nonchalant. “Send whoever you want. It doesn’t matter one way or the other to me.”