“This isn’t a business, though, Jordan. This is my—” Camilla cut herself off before she said the word heart. She wasn’t ready to admit that to herself, let alone to him. “Look, it’s taken me years to plan this restaurant. To, as you put it, open up my doors and take the risk. So, yeah, I’m going to want a little more time before I jump into another risk. Especially when all the cost analysis reports I’ve seen regarding your past dating history don’t exactly show a high rate of return.”
Camilla wished she could take back the words as soon as she said them. After all, Jordan had never asked for a spreadsheet on her dating history. She would’ve fumed in protest if any guy had wanted to hold her past relationships against her. Not that there were many serious ones, but there was a reason she’d never taken anyone home to meet her family before now.
“That’s the difference between us, I guess,” Jordan replied. “I don’t see being with you as a risk.”
Camilla let her head fall against the headrest. “That’s because you don’t really have as much to lose.”
Chapter Twelve
Jordan leaned back in his desk chair, staring at the office ceiling in frustration after he got off the phone with Camilla. Then he stared at the papers on his desk until all the numbers and graphs blurred together.
“Can I be straight with you, sport?” Mac asked when she returned to the office after another coffee break and found him on the exact same page of the growth strategy report he’d been reading when she’d left.
“When are you ever not straight, Mac?”
She planted herself on the arm of the leather chair across from his desk. “You look like a batter in the bottom of the ninth, the bases are loaded and your team is down by three runs. You’re itching to get that grand slam so bad, you’re liable to swing at anything the pitcher throws your way.”
He folded his hands to keep from tapping his fingers impatiently, thereby proving the accuracy of Mac’s assessment. “Is this the part of the baseball analogy where you tell me it’s okay to strike out?”
“Nope. This is the part where I tell you that sometimes you gotta take the walk and just get yourself on first base. Don’t be so desperate to be the hero that you end up blowing the whole game.”
“That’s the same advice you gave me when you coached my softball team in fifth grade, Mac,” Daphne said as she breezily swung into his office holding a pizza box from the Brick Oven and two plastic containers filled with salads.
“This is unexpected,” Jordan told his sister, his nose lifting at the delicious scent of garlic and tomato sauce. “Does Dad know you’re here?”
“Do you think I would’ve made it past security if Dad knew I was here? Or if he knew I was smuggling in a couple of veggie antipasto salads into the sacred halls of beef?”
“You brought me lunch?” he asked.
“Mac said you haven’t been eating as well since Camilla stopped inviting you over for Sunday dinners. I guess the Sanchez family didn’t like that social media piece on their daughter.”
“Now that Daphne is here to coach you,” Mac said as she sprang up from her seat, pushing up the long sleeves under her all-stars jersey, “I’m gonna head down to that new sporting goods shop in Billings and spend my upcoming Christmas bonus.”
“You don’t need any more sporting gear,” he called out to Mac’s back as she headed down the hallway. Then Jordan turned to his sister. “And I don’t need a coach.”
“Maybe not.” Daphne settled herself into the chair across from him and opened the white cardboard box, sending his nostrils and his growling stomach into overdrive. “But I might have a few pointers anyway.”
Jordan snorted. “How many times have you been in love, little sis?”
“Does Tiny Tim count?” she asked before sinking her teeth into a slice of cheese pizza. Her mouth was still full when her eyes went round. “Wait. Are you saying that you actually love Camilla?”
“I think so.” The heaviness in Jordan’s chest suddenly disappeared. Like he’d been holding in a breath and could finally exhale. It was such a relief to say it out loud to someone. Unfortunately, the relief was short-lived. “But even if I confessed as much to her, she’d probably doubt it anyway. She wants us to let things cool down until we can figure out what we actually want. For some reason, she thinks I’m going to change my mind down the road and call things off.”
“Why would she think that?” The sarcasm dripped from Daphne’s voice.
“Who knows?” Jordan shook his head, choosing to ignore his sister’s tone. “What she should be thinking is that I’m a nice guy who cares about her and loves being with her.”
“Okay, but to be fair, you’re also a guy whose dating history reads like those old-timey gold mine maps they used to sell at the general store, all speculation with so many twists and turns and absolutely no depth.”
“Those gold mine maps were for the tourists who didn’t know any better. Just like all those ghost stories about the supposed haunted history of Bronco. People will believe anything if it’s sensationalized enough. The reality, though, is that there’s no comparison because I’ve never dated anyone like Camilla.”
“She’s also probably never dated anyone like you. Or at least anyone with a father like yours. Of course she’s going to be wary.”
“Ours,” Jordan corrected as he picked up another slice. It was plain cheese, unfortunately, with no extra toppings. But at least there were pesto twists and a salad for some variety. “It’s not fair for either one of us to be responsible for our dad’s behavior or his opinions.”
“Listen, Jordan.” Daphne passed him a napkin. “I know you don’t like to be compared to Dad and I don’t blame you. The guy is overbearing and snobbish and an all around pain in the neck. But he’s also determined and driven and isn’t afraid to go after what he wants. You inherited that from him, which is great when it comes to business. But it’s not so great when it comes to the people you love.”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t go after Camilla?”
“No. I’m saying that if you really love her—not want her, but love her—then you should sit back and give her the space that she needs. If you don’t, you’ll wind up pushing her away.”
“But if I could just—”
“Uh-uh.” Daphne waved a pizza crust at him in warning.
“I’m just saying that I could prove—”
“No.” His sister drew back her arm, a throwback to her softball pitching days.
“Then how do I show her—”
Instead of the crust, Daphne switched hands and sent a balled-up napkin flying at him, clipping his chin with sauce and grease before it fell on the pile of boring reports. “This isn’t about you, Jordan. It’s about her. When you read through all those comments under that picture of the two of you kissing, were any of them negative about you?”
He sat back in his chair, the pizza weighing heavily in his stomach as he thought about some of the rude things people had said about Camilla. “You’re right. She bore the brunt of it. I think there were only a handful that implied I was thinking with my—”
Daphne launched a cherry tomato at him this time to cut him off. “That’s still not an insult to you, Jordan. It might sound like it at first, but what they’re really saying is that your attraction to her can only be related to sex because she has nothing else to offer you.”
“But that’s not true,” he all but shouted at the ceiling for what felt like the millionth time. He rolled his neck to loosen up the coiled muscles in his shoulders. “Camilla Sanchez is one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met. She has more to offer me than I could ever offer her.”
“Then be patient and wait for her to offer it.”
Daphne left after they finished eating and Jordan found himself even more restless than he’d been before. He’d never been very good at just sitting back and b
eing patient.
He got through another few hours of paperwork before deciding to let off some steam by going for a run. Mac, being a firm believer in taking breaks from work to exercise, always insisted he keep a supply of athletic clothes and sneakers in his executive washroom.
Normally, Jordan would have run along the hilly terrain toward his ranch, but since the sun was already going down, he took off toward the more populated area of Bronco Heights.
A massive pine tree had already been erected in the park in front of City Hall and festive lights were strung up all over town. Most of the local businesses had decorated their storefronts with a combination of garlands, wreaths and themed window displays. He passed several restaurants with signs out front telling customers to “reserve your holiday meals now.”
One restaurant he didn’t pass, though, was DJ’s Deluxe. In fact, he crossed the street as he neared the renovated building because he didn’t want to be tempted with the thought of looking in the windows to catch a glimpse of Camilla.
Even the popular Bronco Ghost Tours seemed to be getting into the holiday spirit with a sandwich board sign outside its office offering special “Yuletide” programs. He wasn’t even sure what a yuletide was. Jordan had never really participated in any of the historical traditions involving Christmas, unless he counted Santa Claus. And really, Santa had only come to his house depending on the stepmother at the time. Or unless one of his uncles dressed up for a charity event.
Normally, his family focused on the business aspect of the holiday because that was when their biggest orders came in. The only tradition that stayed the same was the huge company party for the Taylor Beef employees where his father passed out hefty bonuses.
Jessica had ordered personalized stockings this year, though. Including one for Daphne, which their father hadn’t yet taken down from the fireplace mantle. So maybe some things would be changing this December.
As usual, someone had driven their plow to town and pushed the most recently fallen snow into a small hill at one end of the park where neighborhood kids could bring out their sleds and safely race each other down the man-made slopes.
By this time of the evening, everyone was off work and out of school and families were out in full force with colorful knitted scarves and mittens, enjoying the wintertime activities while happy couples moved in and out of the brightly lit shops. It seemed as though the entire town was already preparing for the most wonderful time of the year.
Everyone except for him.
Jordan zigzagged down several residential blocks, yet each time he turned onto another street, he found his way back toward the center of town. He tried to focus on the short bursts of condensation in the cold wintry air as his breathing came faster and harder. Unfortunately, all he could see were decorations and lights and sleds and the excitement of the season surrounding him.
On Thanksgiving, he’d actually envisioned himself spending Christmas with the Sanchez family, but that was probably out of the question. With Camilla freezing him out and his own family so fractured and dysfunctional right now, where would Jordan even spend the holiday this year?
Mac had always welcomed him with open arms and Daphne might want to host something out at Happy Hearts, so maybe he had options. But not the one he wanted.
After a few laps around the park, Jordan returned to the street and slowed as he passed the decorated displays in the store windows. He would have to get presents for his sister and his assistant, and whoever else he ended up spending the holiday with. When he got to the window display at Playworks, he paused to watch an electric train zoom around the toys inside.
A plush pink pig that looked almost identical to Tiny Tim caught his eye. It would be a perfect gift for Camilla if he wasn’t trying to get her to take him seriously. He glanced over his shoulder at the jewelry store across the street. If he really wanted to cause a stir, he’d head over there and give everyone something to talk about. But he didn’t want to make things worse for Camilla.
Returning his gaze to the window display of toys, his eyes landed on a porcelain doll in a red velvet dress, which reminded him that Erica Abernathy had just had a baby and he hadn’t bought the child a gift yet. Perhaps it was a sign. Or at least an excuse.
Opening the shop door and stepping foot in such an establishment went against every one of Jordan’s natural instincts. But then again, so did buying a woman a stuffed pig.
* * *
When Erica answered the door, Jordan immediately noticed the smudged circles under her eyes and the impossible-to-contain smile across her face. “Hey, Jordan! Did someone from human resources send more paperwork for me to fill out?”
When Erica had moved back to Bronco a couple of months ago, she’d needed a job. She’d come to see Jordan as a last resort and it had been easy enough to find her a position at Taylor Beef where she could start after the baby was born. In the meantime, she’d met and married Morgan Dalton and was now living at his house out on Dalton’s Grange. The Daltons were relatively new to Bronco, but Jordan had been to their ranch before to check out some of their livestock.
He held up the pale yellow bag. “No, I brought a gift.”
“But you already sent the wine basket when I was in the hospital. I couldn’t drink it because my milk was already coming in, but the nurses all loved it.”
Jordan winced at his mistake. Maybe he needed to come up with a get-well gift that was a little less one-size-fits-all. “This one is for the baby, though. Is she here?”
Erica put a shushing finger to her lips before standing to the side of the door to let him inside. “Come on in. Morgan is trying to get Josie back to sleep right now.”
“Oh, I don’t want to bother you guys. I just wanted to drop this off.” He passed the bag to her.
“You’re not bothering us at all.” She walked toward the living room, leaving him to follow as she pulled tissue paper out of the bag.
“The sales clerk said that it’s for toddlers,” Jordan explained as he took a seat on the leather sofa opposite her stuffed rocking chair. “So you might have to wait another month or so to give it to her.”
“Jordan, how old do you think a toddler is supposed to be?” Erica shook her head, yet kept smiling as she studied the box containing miniature horses and cows and action figures. “Oh, it’s a My First Rodeo Set. That’s pretty cute considering this is probably your first rodeo buying a baby gift.”
Jordan cleared his throat. “The past month has been a bunch of firsts for me, actually.”
“So I’ve read online.”
“Speaking of Camilla...” He squirmed slightly in his seat. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Jordan, you were the only person in town willing to hire an eight-months-pregnant lady without any references from my previous employer. And you insisted I didn’t have to start until after the baby arrived. I think you’ve earned the right to ask me anything you want.”
“What was it like for you when we dated?” he asked, then saw the tilt of her head and quickly corrected himself. “I know that sounds kind of awkward since you’re happily married and your husband is in the other room. But I’m asking from a data analysis standpoint.”
“No, I know what you meant. I’m just trying to figure out how to say this in the most polite way possible.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it.” He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees as though he was ready to take notes.
“Well, it was over ten years ago and we only went out a handful of times. I had just graduated high school and both of our families were putting all that pressure on us despite the fact that we both knew we weren’t right for each other. But...”
“But?”
Erica studied him for a few seconds before saying, “But I remember thinking that it was very sad that you would never know when you found the one because you never really spent any time with a woman long e
nough to figure it out. You always seemed to be looking over your shoulder.”
He jerked his head back. “Like I was afraid of something?”
“No, like you were looking for something better to come along.”
He scratched at the back of his neck, as though he could scrub away the mistakes of his past. “It might’ve seemed that way. But it wasn’t how I meant it.”
“Jordan, you literally told me not to get attached to the first guy I met when I got to college. In fact, I believe your exact words were ‘There’ll always be someone else around the corner, kid.’”
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best philosophy to instill in an impressionable teenager. But in his defense, he’d been young too, and determined not to make the same mistakes in love that his father had made.
“Well, it seems like you held out for the right guy.” He jerked his thumb toward the framed wedding photo of her and Morgan.
“That’s the thing, though. Morgan came into my life when I least expected it.” Erica’s eyes went from tired to sparkling. “When I was no longer looking around any corners, so to speak. See, it doesn’t matter how many other women are out there waiting for you, Jordan, if you refuse to settle down long enough to give the right woman a fair shot.”
“Okay, I might’ve been that way ten years ago. Or even ten weeks ago. But now I’ve actually found the one. My problem is that I haven’t been able to convince her that I’m the one for her.”
“And you’re used to convincing people into anything,” Erica replied, repeating what everyone else had already been saying about him.
“What is up with people always jumping to that conclusion about me?” Jordan asked.
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