Falling for Love

by Addison M. Conley

  She blew out a small puff of air and raised her hands. “Not sure if I have a favorite. Maybe the romantic comedy Amélie. And you?”

  “Umm…I’d have to say Desert Hearts.”

  The title shot through Jordan’s brain. She wanted to raise a clenched fist in a victory and scream “yes.” Instead, she stared down at her shoes, bit her lip, and at last, looked at Emmy. “No denying, it’s a classic. You have finesse like Vivian, but I find it difficult picturing you as shy.”

  “And you have an adorable smile when you let your guard down.”

  Jordan felt like floating through air as they entered the locker room, yet a wave of unease soon struck her. The room was split into equal halves, each side with full amenities. The showers had curtains, but the dressing areas were open. She had no idea which side of the room Emmy had chosen. Jordan was having enough trouble keeping her eyes off her in clothing.

  “Take care.” Emmy hugged Jordan. “I’m going to have to move fast and get out of here. I’m late picking up Betty Jean.”

  The momentary embrace jolted every nerve in Jordan’s body. The softness of Emmy’s cheek, the fullness of her breasts, and the smell of lavender in her hair were an undeniable pull. At that moment, Jordan would have licked the glistening sweat off her body if Emmy had asked. She had to calm down, put her schoolgirl crush on hold, and control the heat creeping up her neck.

  “That was fun working out. Enjoy the rest of your day and tell Betty Jean I said hi.”

  “Likewise.” Emmy paused. “I’d like to see you soon, but I’m going out of town for a few days. I’ll come by the restaurant when I get back. Maybe we could do something this weekend. I know you’re busy, and it’s going to go nuts with Christmas.”

  Jordan could not hold back on her warm, gushy feelings. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

  “Splendid.”

  Emmy briskly walked to her locker, and Jordan had to force her eyes away as Emmy stripped off her T-shirt. At least, it was the opposite side. Emmy was different, and Jordan wanted to take her sweet time.

  She hustled over to the other side of the wall. Within minutes, her muscles were relaxing under a hot shower. All but the facial ones that were curled up in bliss.

  ****

  Jordan was still in a happy daze as she strolled through the gym and out the front door. Her elation was cut short when she saw a suspicious guy leaning against a beat-up truck, blatantly watching her every step under dark sunglasses.

  The crazy guy was not wearing a coat as if he wanted to show off his bulging muscles. His physique didn’t match his long hair, shaggy beard, and sloppy clothes. He looked like a redneck, and she regretted not exiting from the back and taking a long way around. Now, she had no choice but to walk past him.

  “Nice day we’re having. You going back to work?”

  The last thing she wanted was to talk to this guy.

  “Yep. Busy. Have to run.” She could feel his eyes still upon her even after lengthening her stride. At the bottom of the hill, she glanced back up. He hadn’t moved. Out of all the men who had ever glared at her like meat, he was the spookiest. What especially made her skin crawl was a feeling that she somehow knew him from somewhere.

  ****

  Emmy thought Jordan’s demeanor sliding from a poised woman to a shy playful creature was endearing. She laughed to herself, Jordan certainly was not shy when checking me out. She also wondered if Jordan understood her own beauty. In the short time she had been in town, she had noticed it wasn’t only men who fawned over Jordan. Women stole sideways glances, ogling Jordan with either envy or hidden desires. Who wouldn’t?

  She liked Jordan’s rich dark brown puppy dog eyes and quirky smile. Somehow, her mouth could curl up in the corners in a way that was so freaking cute. Her slim athletic body had the right amount of curves and her breasts were the perfect size for hands to explore. Emmy wet her lips thinking again about Jordan’s attempts at flirtation. Emmy would bait her and turn up the heat with every adorable attempt. And Jordan’s attitude was a big turn-on. She was confident but not cocky. It was refreshing to meet a beautiful woman who was down-to-earth and didn’t let success go to her head.

  Yes, Jordan spiked her interest from the moment they first met, and desire grew every time she ran into her. There was only one thing in the back of Emmy’s mind nagging at her. She had been proudly out for many years, and one of her steadfast rules was not to get involved with a woman hiding her sexuality.

  Maybe Jordan was not entirely in the closet. If not, Emmy hoped that would change soon. Besides, it wouldn’t be long before others noticed. Whether Jordan realized it or not, her reaction to Emmy was becoming more sassy and bold. Yes, she wanted to know Jordan a lot more.

  As Emmy pulled up to the Humane Society, Betty Jean had just walked out of the office. Her hands were firmly planted on her hips.

  She had barely gotten out of the car when Betty Jean said, “Where did you go? You’re late.”

  “Sorry, I was at the gym. Besides, you love this volunteer work.”

  “Yes, dear, but five hours is a tad too long for me, and my replacement has been here for over an hour.”

  Emmy walked up and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m sorry for losing track of time. I’ll be more considerate next time.”

  “Apology accepted. I know you’re a dog person, but I think those kittens took your heart the other day. Maybe you could spend more time than a few hours here.”

  “Are you laying a guilt trip on me, Auntie?”

  “Yep. Is it working?” A grin now replaced Betty Jean’s scowl.

  In the car, Emmy turned to look over her shoulder to safely back up and saw Betty Jean eyeing her. An inquisitive sparkle in her eye matched the grin.

  “As they say around this part of the world, Auntie, what’s that look on your face?”

  “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? I could see the sparkle in your eyes.”

  “What? The cat?”

  “Jordan. I imagine she looks even better in gym shorts.”

  Emmy was floored. “How the hell do you know I saw Jordan at the gym?”

  “Honey, I wasn’t born yesterday, and I’ve got eyes and ears. You do recall us running into Gwyneth the other day, correct?” Betty Jean wiggled her eyebrows. “I saw you perk up when she said Jordan goes to the gym nearly every afternoon around two except on weekends. Now isn’t it a coincidence that it’s a Monday and you happened to go at that same time?”

  Emmy put the car back into park. “I have no idea what you’re thinking but whatever it is, stop. I’m an adult.”

  Betty Jean’s smile fell, and her tone grew serious. “I know it’s been a long time since Heather’s death, and it’s good to see you come back to life. Think about what you’re doing, though. It’s a small town.”

  After Emmy had started to drive, she answered, “I understand your concern—”

  “What if you’re wrong, and she’s not gay?”

  Emmy snickered. “Oh, trust me on that one. There is no doubt.” She reached over and grabbed Betty Jean’s hand. “Stop worrying.”

  Betty Jean cocked one eyebrow. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  As Emmy drove, she thought about life after Heather. She had rarely dated anyone, and a couple of one-night stands turned out to be flops. She’d felt no intensity until now. And now was only a smile, a glance, flirting, and an immense physical desire. But there was more. Emmy saw strength and charm in Jordan.

  She didn’t know where things were going, but they were heading in a positive direction, and she wasn’t about to let go. In an instant, she felt Heather whisper to her, Sweetheart, six years is a long time to mourn. It’s time to move on. I like her. You deserve some happiness. Live life to the fullest.

  Chapter Five

  After tossing and turning most of the night, Jordan woke early and couldn’t get back to sleep. She relaxed in her favorite chair, sipping a strong brew, and watched the sunrise. The splendor of the yellow and orange hues seeped throu
gh her body.

  Despite her effort, she could not stop thinking about yesterday. The physical attraction was off the chart, and Emmy’s self-confidence and flirting were a hook that wouldn’t let her go. And the Desert Hearts comment. “OMG,” Jordan shouted to the empty room. “She had me there!”

  Her cell rang. The ringtone identified the caller as her mom. “Shit, I forgot,” she mumbled, stretching to pick it up. “Morning, Mom.”

  “Hi, honey. Are you done with my cordless screwdriver? Could you please bring it with you?”

  “Yeah, sure, Mom. Um…” Jordan rubbed her forehead.

  Gwyneth laughed. “Ten a.m. You have time. See you then. Love you, hon.”

  “Bye, Mom. Love you.”

  She had always admired her mother’s fortitude and feminism. A widow twice before the age of thirty, Gwyneth Lange-Simón was a striking woman who had raised three kids yet managed to get herself through college. Among her many talents was the knack of bringing out the conversation in people.

  Her mother likely suspected she was gay but had never asked, and Jordan had learned a long time ago to steer the discussion to safe topics. Never any details about her intimate life. Of course, Jordan had virtually disappeared when living in Spain.

  She didn’t think her mother would love her any less, but her brothers’ reactions would be sharply divided. Carter was not the concern. Gerry had somehow grown into an extremely religious and political nutcase, and his mouth flapped with judgmental harshness the older he got. She tried to stay away from him as much as possible.

  Chugging the last of the coffee, she read some emails before getting ready.

  ****

  Gwyneth thought of her second husband as her daughter hopped out of the SUV. They shared the same dark Latino features and business sense. Yet, she didn’t understand where Jordan had gotten the brooding side with an impermeable and aloof shell. Losing Karen had been a nightmare but getting into the Madrid International Culinary School after high school had helped, and Jordan finished with top honors. Yet Gwyneth never expected her to live in Europe for fifteen years. As Jordan unzipped her coat, Gwyneth gave her a crooked smile and held out a travel mug.

  Jordan grudgingly accepted and shrugged. “I guess since it’s warmed up to a balmy thirty degrees.”

  “Ah, you can’t let a little cold bother you.” Gwyneth may have looked like a fair maiden, but her morning walks were what made her hardy.

  Jordan snapped her fingers. “Oh, the drill’s still out in the vehicle. Remind me to get it later.”

  They walked along aptly named Cold Run Valley Road, their hoods pulled up to block out the occasional wind gust. She filled Jordan in on her latest adventure with Carter, Angie, and the kids.

  As usual, Jordan remained quiet and moved on to a safe topic. “Are Grammy and Poppa still refusing to discuss assisted living?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. You should visit more often. At eighty-nine and ninety-two, we don’t know how much time they have. The bout of pneumonia Poppa had last year was a wake-up call. He’s acted like he’s had something on his mind since then, but I don’t know what it is. He won’t talk. They’d love to see you, and it would do you some good. You know I’ve been worried about you.”

  “How so?”

  She could see Jordan’s jaw tightening but was damned tired of her detachment. “You work too much. When was the last time you had a vacation?”

  “Well, the restaurant isn’t going to run itself.”

  She stopped walking and made Jordan look her in the face. Jordan’s lips were pursed. “The restaurant is well on its way to success. You’ve pointed out how Robby is a valuable chef and manager. You recently hired Jo, who you say is following in both your footsteps. The other night, you complimented the rest of the staff.” She was exasperated with her daughter, and Jordan’s stone face didn’t help the mood. “You’re working yourself to death. You need to take some time off. And I don’t mean you taking time off from work to do accounting at home. Even taking two days at the National Culinary Convention and returning immediately to work is not rest!” She put her hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “When was the last time you went for the entire convention and spent extra time enjoying the sights? You need to have some fun like your last vacation.”

  Gwyneth thought she caught the hint of a smile. Jordan shook away from her grasp and replied in a deadpan voice, “I’ll take that into consideration,” and casually walked away. Before Gwyneth could catch up, her cell phone rang.

  ****

  With her mom busy on the phone, Jordan recalled her last vacation in Saint Croix. Yes, there were gorgeous, white, soft sandy beaches; beauty all around; and oh, what fun. She had uploaded pictures to her Facebook account, the one she kept public and open to her family. On that page, she raved about the hotel and how she was having fun scuba diving, relaxing on the beach, and meeting people. A few had teased her about grabbing a handsome, wealthy single guy while she was there. She teased back stating all potential dates wanted her to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, cooking only for them.

  Her friends and family never caught the subtlety. Always about meeting people with little reference to gender and tons of neutral pronouns. Yes, plenty of fun in Saint Croix. She never mentioned the nightlife beauty. Never talked about the cool gay guys who knew how to party and the many cute lesbians she danced with. There was no mention of the shame Jordan locked away inside over her one-night stands.

  Her mom caught up. “I’m serious. You need time off.”

  Blowing out an exaggerated huff, Jordan turned to her. “I’m looking at taking some time in March before the spring tourist season ramps up.”

  “Good.”

  They continued their stroll on the black asphalt road, sipping their coffee, with her mom doing most of the talking. Jordan was cold, and the gray overcast sky matched her mood.

  ****

  Gwyneth was about ready to scream at Jordan’s silent avoidance. She was never one to stick her nose into her adult children’s business, but she was concerned. Jordan lived four miles down the road, and they hardly saw one another. She was the one who was always initiating contact.

  Jordan didn’t appear to have any friends outside of the restaurant. That could not be healthy. What had happened in Spain? Jordan’s Spanish roommate, Luciana was always around when Gwyneth visited. There had not been one word from Jordan about this girl since returning home. Were they lovers? Had she crushed her daughter’s heart?

  She had tried to wait patiently for Jordan to bring up the subject. Dammit. She’ll soon be forty, and I’m not gettin’ any younger. I don’t care whether she is gay, bisexual, pansexual, or whatever people identify with nowadays. All she wanted was her daughter back and not some stranger. Still, Jordan wasn’t the only one holding back. Pangs of guilt pierced Gwyneth’s heart.

  “Perhaps you should see someone. There are some good therapists in Redington near the college. The one you saw after Karen—”

  “Mom, I don’t need a damn psychologist!” Jordan kicked a rock and picked up the pace before stopping and lacing her hands behind her head and stretching her elbows out. “I’m just busy and tired. That’s all.”

  They walked farther. Gwyneth couldn’t let it go. “Maybe the accident—”

  Jordan whipped around. “Drop it, Mother! That’s in the past. Nothing’s wrong! Perhaps I have been working too hard. The restaurant is my dream. You don’t understand what it’s like to keep a business running in this sleepy little town.” Jordan marched away in a royally pissed-off huff.

  Gwyneth’s phone rang again. She looked at the number. It was Dave. No one seemed to have put two and two together that they were a hot item. That was her surprise. She muted the ring and let it go to voice mail. When she looked up, Jordan had stormed ahead a significant distance with her long legs.

  “Honey, please, wait up.”

  Jordan kept her brisk pace while shouting over her shoulder, “I’m fine Mom. I know you mean well. Just st
op worrying.”

  ****

  “Err…” Jordan smacked her hand hard on the steering wheel, and the sting spread to her palm and wrist. She had driven to the lookout after departing. Luckily, no one else was around. This was one of her favorite scenic spots no matter what the season. Today, she vacantly stared out the windshield and didn’t bother getting out.

  She rarely bickered with anyone, but her mother’s reference to the one year she had tried desperately to forget irritated the shit out of her. She hated that psychologist. He was sterile, clueless, and smug. Jordan told him exactly what he wanted to hear. She did what was necessary to get out of high school and out of Oakville. She never told anyone the truth. It was in the past, and she was determined it would remain in the past.

  Resting her head in her hands, she chastised herself. “God, why was I such an asswipe to Mom?” It wasn’t her mother’s fault. She had only been trying to help. “I need to let it go.”

  Jordan picked up her phone and did what she had to do. It rang and rang as she nervously tapped on the steering wheel. Finally, her mom picked up. Without giving Jordan a chance, her mom blurted out, “Honey, I’m sorry that I brought up the topic.”

  The sincerity in her voice made Jordan feel even guiltier. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m the one who needs to apologize. I was an obnoxious jerk.” She tried to sound more upbeat. “I’m all right. Things have been going great, just hectic. Jo’s been goading me to go with her ski club to Pennsylvania. Apparently, about fifty members make this trip every year. And she assures me that alumni and professors attend, so I shouldn’t be the only one over thirty.”

  Gwyneth chuckled. “That sounds like fun. Jo’s such an energetic soul. It was a smart move to hire her.”