“Are you planning on following that same business model when you open your restaurant?” Jordan took the last sample cup of stuffing from the tray before an employee set out another batch. “I don’t know if potential investors will be on board with that.”
“They already are.” Camilla smiled at Jordan.
“Wait.” He stopped in the center of the aisle, and an older woman riding in an electric scooter behind him clipped his boot heels as she swung around to avoid him. “You already found an investor?”
“Yep. We signed the contracts two days ago.”
“Who is it?”
“They’re a silent partner, so I’m not allowed to say.” Camilla avoided eye contact with him by scanning her grocery list. “I think the canned green beans are down here.”
“Are you sure your mom wants canned beans?” Jordan asked as he pushed the oversized shopping cart behind her. “I’ve eaten with your family several times now and everything is always fresh. Thanks to Mr. Granada.” See, he was even in on the family jokes about the store clerk who had a crush on Mrs. Sanchez.
“My parents insist. When they moved here thirty years ago and celebrated their first Thanksgiving, Mrs. Waters gave them all these recipes for what she called ‘traditional American dishes.’” Camilla held up two fingers on each hand to simulate air quotes. “Mom was pregnant with Dylan and on bed rest so my dad cooked everything himself, including the green bean casserole. Later on, they learned that there were much better recipes out there. But at the time it was their way of embracing the culture of their new country. Now, it’s a reminder of all the challenges they’ve had to overcome since they became citizens. It’s not Thanksgiving at our house without Mrs. Waters’s recipes.”
Jordan hefted a huge box of green beans into the cart. “Your brothers are big guys, but there’s no way they’re going to eat all of these.”
“No, but there’s a food pantry at the church and we usually give half to them ahead of time.”
They were standing in front of crates of twenty-pound sacks of potatoes when Jordan tried again. “So how did you meet this investor?”
“I can’t say.” Camilla shrugged as she gazed longingly at the red fingerlings and the Yukon golds.
“You can’t? Or you won’t?” he asked, the disappointment of a missed opportunity threading through him. Despite how much he wanted to be her partner, he obviously couldn’t continue his personal relationship with Camilla if he went into business with her. For one, he didn’t ever want her to feel indebted to him. For another, those kinds of ventures never ended well when the parties decided to part socially. However, he’d actually talked to several of his associates who were interested in meeting with her and finding out more about her restaurant.
Camilla made a zipper motion in front of her lips, then pretended to lock them shut and throw away the key.
“It sounds shady,” he finally said.
“What does?” She went with the standard russets and didn’t even budge under the weight as she put the bag in the cart.
“This mysterious silent partner. Why do they want to keep it a secret? Do they not want people to know they’re investing in you?”
“Jordan, I assure you that it’s all on the up and up. And not those yams. We need to go back to the canned section for them. Do you think the marshmallows would be with the baking products or in the candy section?”
“I’m pretty sure I saw marshmallows on that display stand by the pie crusts.” He put the smaller bag back, already feeling his insulin levels spike at the thought of what Mrs. Waters put in her sweet potato casserole. “What if this mystery investor is trying to take advantage of you?”
“Because I’m not business savvy enough to know better?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, but a mom with three kids hanging off the sides of her shopping cart needed to maneuver by. Camilla’s stance lost some of its defiance as she was forced to squeeze herself against the red onions. Yet that didn’t detract from her argument. “Suppose I made a big mistake, Jordan? What would you do? Rush in to save me?”
“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” he said as he followed her down the next aisle.
“How do I know what you mean? I barely know you at all.”
“Oh, come on, Camilla.” The cart was getting surprisingly more full and harder to steer by the time they got out of the produce section. “By now you probably know me better than anyone else does. Besides maybe Daphne and Mac.”
“And you should know that when it comes to you, I’m always going to protect myself.” She held up one palm as though the hand gesture was enough to stop his train of thought. “Not that I think you would intentionally hurt me. But what happens after our three weeks are up? What happens after three months? Eventually you’ll move on to the next shiny object.”
“That’s not fair.” He leaned his forearms on the cart, not moving until she realized she was prematurely judging him. Again.
“Oh, yeah? What has been your longest relationship?” She put her hands on her waist, drawing his attention to the spot below, where her snug jeans hugged her hips.
His mouth went dry and he looked around for a sample cart offering water or juice or even Scotch if they had it. “That depends on how you define relationship.”
“You shouldn’t have to define it, Jordan. You should know when you’re in a relationship.”
“In that case, this one has been the longest.”
“This one?” She peered around him at the pallets of cereal as though there were another relationship lurking behind them. “The one between me and you?”
“If I’m defining what a relationship is, then I’d say this qualifies.”
“Four dates isn’t enough time to define anything,” she replied.
“Here’s how I see it. I’ve never done Sunday dinners with a woman’s family. I’ve never volunteered for community service projects just to be around a woman. I’ve never let a woman ride one of my favorite horses. Don’t tell Leia I said Palp was one of my favorites, by the way. She thinks she’s my only one.”
“Aha!” Camilla pointed a finger at his chest. “How many other females out there think they’re your only one?”
“None! Because I’ve never done any of this with another woman.” Jordan dashed a frustrated hand through his hair before he continued. “I certainly have never gone grocery shopping with one and gotten into an argument with her in the middle of the breakfast aisle. But what should be even more telling is that I’ve never wanted to keep doing those things with anyone else but you. Therefore, the fact that I want to be with you, along with the fact that you clearly want to be with me, makes this, by default, a relationship.”
She studied him for several seconds, but he could see her breathing had quickened because her red puffy vest was straining against her breasts. Finally she asked, “How do you know I want to be with you?”
“Because you’re not the kind of person who wastes time. You go after what you want.” He took a step closer and, as though to prove his point, she didn’t retreat. “If you didn’t want to be with me, you never would have agreed to this three-week trial. If you weren’t attracted to me, you wouldn’t let me touch you like this.” He reached out to trail his hand along her waist under her vest, and when her full lips parted in surprise, he lowered his head and his voice. “You most definitely wouldn’t let me kiss you in the middle of a crowded store.”
His mouth hovered above hers until she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him against her. Camilla’s kisses were better than breathing. Jordan’s lungs filled with the intoxicating scent of her lavender shampoo, and his hands filled with the intoxicating feel of her rear end as he hauled her hips against his. She moaned and...
Something else was ringing in his ears. He pulled back when he heard a second metal clang.
An aproned employee held a stainless stee
l spoon over her portable stove as she frowned at them. “You kids need to go do that hanky-panky stuff somewhere else. You’re blocking my oatmeal samples.”
Chapter Eight
For the past couple of weeks, Camilla had done her best to show Jordan how the other half lived in a fruitless attempt to prove that their lifestyles were incompatible. Surprisingly, though, the stubborn man seemed game for whatever she’d dished up. And he kept coming back for more.
He’d even gone grocery shopping yesterday at the big box store an hour out of town just so he could be with her. Other than that steamy kiss in the breakfast aisle, there was nothing romantic about their $1.50 hot dogs and sodas in the food court or those countless samples they’d filled up on.
Yet Jordan seemed to enjoy every second of whatever random errand or service project she had on her schedule, which only made Camilla question whether she’d been wrong about him all along. In fact, the more involved he got in the Bronco Valley community, the more Camilla felt her resolve slipping.
And don’t even get her started on her family. They all adored him, even Dylan, who hadn’t been too pleased to find out that Jordan’s favorite NBA player was on the team of his sworn rivals.
Of course, none of the Sanchezes knew that he was one of those Taylors.
So far, the only thing Camilla had proven to anyone was that her and Jordan’s physical attraction was only growing stronger. Maybe she needed to get him back in his own world to show him that she was the one who wouldn’t be able to fit in. That would be easy enough to do with his dad and stepmother. Maybe even his siblings.
DJ’s Deluxe was doing a limited menu this week due to all the Thanksgiving holiday take-out orders, which meant she wasn’t working her usual shifts. Plus, she’d booked a couple of vacation days to be able to spend time cooking with her parents—and, of course, to spend time with Jordan. And since school was on break, she didn’t have any online lectures or reading assignments. So when Jordan texted her that morning asking if they could have another “official date,” she replied, I want to meet the rest of your family.
Camilla had anticipated a formal dinner at the Taylor estate prepared by a classically trained private chef and served by a stiff-lipped butler. Or perhaps another helicopter ride to a five-star restaurant in Jackson Hole. At this point, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d pulled out the big guns and hired a private jet to ferry them to some romantic European city.
What she hadn’t anticipated, she realized as they pulled up under the wooden sign of Happy Hearts Animal Sanctuary on Monday afternoon, was that he would take her to meet the other member of the Taylor family who didn’t quite fit in, either.
“Jordan!” His sister nearly squealed as she ran over to hug her brother. “What are you doing away from the office? You never take time off from work... Oh.” The pretty strawberry blonde trailed off when she caught sight of Camilla. “This is certainly a first on so many levels.”
“Daph, this is Camilla Sanchez. Remember, I told you all about her?”
“I see my very determined and slightly stubborn brother finally found his mystery woman from the ball.” Jordan’s sister shot him a knowing smile before extending a hand to Camilla. “I’m Daphne Taylor.”
“Nice to meet you,” she replied. After a few more knowing looks passed between Jordan and Daphne, Camilla asked, “So does everyone in your family know the story of how Jordan and I met?”
“Only those of us who pay attention. Although I have to admit that I thought this particular quest would end up as another lost cause.”
Something knotted in Camilla’s throat at that admission, but she held her smile in place. Or tried to, but Daphne must’ve read her mind. “Not that I’m not happy to be proven wrong. It’s just that I know how my brother is. Clearly, from what I’ve heard around town, though, you’re not just a flavor of the month.”
Camilla suddenly wanted to know what else Daphne had heard around town. But she turned to Jordan instead and didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm. “Hmmm. Why does it always feel as though people are surprised when they find out we’ve had more than a couple of dates? It’s almost as though they know your reputation.”
Daphne chuckled. “It’s hard not to know about his reputation, considering everyone reads about it online.”
“You guys should understand by now that I’m not as bad as they make me out to be.” Jordan dug his hands in the back pockets of his black slacks. He’d obviously come straight from his office to pick her up. Daphne’s words about her brother never taking time off work repeated in Camilla’s head. Maybe she was truly different from the other women he’d dated. “Besides, can’t a man bring his favorite girl to meet his favorite sister without everyone bringing up his past?”
“You’re right. My brother almost never visits his favorite sister. And certainly not with his girlfriend. Come on.” Daphne moved between them and looped her arms through theirs. “Let me give you a tour of my farm.”
Jordan’s sister talked eagerly about each of the rescued animals at Happy Hearts, and Camilla tried to pay attention. But she couldn’t stop thinking about how easily Daphne had referred to her as Jordan’s girlfriend.
“As you can see,” Daphne said as they got to an enclosed area near the end of the barn, “Happy Hearts is quite smaller than the Taylor Ranch and runs at a fraction of the cost—mostly raised through donations.”
“Who’s this big guy?” Jordan asked, making Camilla look inside the pen.
“That’s Tiny Tim,” Daphne replied. The potbellied pig was anything but tiny. “He came to live with us after his owner passed away.”
The pig stuck its snout through the slats in the fencing and sniffed Camilla’s hand. She looked at Daphne for permission. “Is it okay if I pet him?”
“Sure.” Daphne unlatched the gate. “You can even go inside and play with him. He’s housebroken and actually knows quite a few tricks. In fact, that muddy wad of strings and patches used to be a soccer ball, and he’ll kick it back to you if you roll it to him.”
Camilla rolled the ball several times and the pig actually used a front hoof to kick it back. She bent over to retrieve the ball, and Tim pushed his snout into her palm. Camilla knelt in the straw to stroke the silky space between his ears and he oinked in appreciation. “Oh, he’s an absolute sweetheart.”
“You can say that again. In fact, he’s a real charmer. All the females around here love him. Even old Agatha, the crankiest goat you’ll ever meet. In fact, he’s such a ladies’ man, we thought about changing his name to—”
“Don’t say it.” Jordan shook his head at his sister.
Daphne laughed. “I was going to say Casanova. But now that you suggest it, Jordan Junior would’ve been just as appropriate.”
“The ladies may love us,” Jordan said to the pig, “but they certainly don’t understand us.”
Tim oinked in agreement.
“So what’ll happen to him?” Camilla asked.
“My guess is as good as yours,” Daphne replied, staring at her brother, who in turn was watching Camilla. “I’ve never seen him this smitten with a woman before.”
“She’s talking about the pig,” Jordan said. “Not me.”
“Oh.” Daphne straightened. “We’ll try to find him a good home. Otherwise, he will spend the rest of his days here at Happy Hearts, eating slop and lounging in the mud and charming all the females.”
“Sounds like a pretty good life, if you ask me.” Jordan knelt beside her. “I mean, except for the part about charming all the females. There’s only one female I want to impress.”
“I wish I could take you home, boy.” Camilla continued to scratch the pig’s head, refusing to acknowledge Jordan’s comment for fear she’d turn as pink as Tim. “But I only have a studio apartment and absolutely no free time to speak of.”
“Is she still talking about the pig?” Da
phne laughed. “Because I already like any woman who can tell one of the Taylor men no.”
“Then you’ll love Camilla.” Jordan winked at Daphne. “She has no problem telling me no.”
A truck backed up close to the barn doors. Daphne sighed. “That’s the second delivery of grain this week for the horses. I better help unload it.”
“I’ve got it, Daph,” Jordan offered, easily swinging himself over the wood slatted fence. “You already do too much around here as it is.”
He left the two women standing in the pig pen together, and Camilla knew what was coming before Daphne even opened her mouth. “Well, you’ve certainly succeeded with my brother where many others before you have failed.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Camilla said more to herself than to Jordan’s sister. “I’m sure it’s only temporary. He’ll lose interest soon enough.”
“I don’t know. When Jordan makes up his mind, it’s pretty hard to convince him to change it.”
Camilla tilted her head as she watched Jordan, clad in his business attire, hop into the back of a pickup truck to unload heavy burlap sacks. “He certainly is determined. I have a feeling that’s what attracted him to me in the first place. The challenge.”
“I’m the first to admit that my brother is used to getting his way.” Daphne nodded. “In fact, I even accused him of being just like our father when he was trying to find you. I was so annoyed with him, I told him I wouldn’t help. I was worried that he was envisioning you as some sort of prize that he needed to win. But seeing him with you is different.”
Camilla’s emotions were so damn twisted and tangled. She wanted to be flattered that what they potentially had was something special. But it also made her more wary that it might get messy when the three-week trial dating was up. And the fact remained that it would be up soon. Steeling herself, she asked the question she might not want to know the answer to. “How so?”
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