by Style, Linda
“It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“There are bedrooms on either side.” Jordan shifted one of the duffel bags to his shoulder. “But let’s go this way. I think Cait will like the last bedroom the best.”
When they entered, Cait’s eyes enlarged like moons, and she smile so wide it covered half her face. “Awesome!”
The room was all pink and white and ruffled, with Barbie dolls prominently displayed on shelves extending from floor to ceiling on one wall.
“I never saw so many Barbies,” Cait exclaimed. She went over and touched the bed. “They’re even on the bedspread. Whose room is this?”
“It’s a guest room, just like I said. Decorated especially for young ladies.”
Jordan seemed to know an awful lot about the place. “I guess you come here often?”
He cleared his throat. “I used to. But not so much anymore. My friends are gone a lot and it’s not the same without company.”
Was that a note of wistfulness in his voice?
“Cait, why don’t you get settled in, and I’ll take your mom to her room.”
More than happy to stay in the beautifully decorated room, Cait immediately dropped her backpack and headed for the dolls. Jordan walked with Laura down the hall again, stopping at another room. He peered inside and indicated she should do the same. “This okay? If not, there are others.”
Again, Laura’s breath caught. “How could it not be okay?” The room, bedspread and curtains were all ivory with warm golds as accents, complemented by rich dark furniture. A mountain of fluffy pillows at the head of the bed covered the embroidered spread. “To quote Cait, it’s awesome!”
He set her duffel bag on a wood chest at the end of the huge sleigh bed and then sat next to it. He motioned for her to sit, too. She took the end of the bed.
Looking at her, his expression turned serious. “I know you need to get settled, and I know you need time to think, but at some point, we should talk.”
She picked at the embroidery on the bedspread. “Yes, I know.” But she didn’t know what she was going to say. As far as Jordan knew, her only worry was the stalker, and while she was worried about him, it wasn’t the whole story. But she couldn’t tell him the rest. She couldn’t tell him she’d received threatening phone calls, that someone had sneaked into her house and destroyed Cait’s things. She couldn’t tell him she was worried that somehow Frank DeMatta had found out her secret—and that hanging out with Jordan might even be the cause of her recent problems. “I need time to come up with a plan.”
Jordan shifted on the bench. The worry in her eyes made him want to hold her, protect her. He’d hoped being out of the city and in a secure environment would give her the confidence she needed to tell him what was really wrong. But if she needed time to feel comfortable enough to trust him, he’d give it to her.
A sharp jab of conscience pierced his detective’s veneer. She already trusted him somewhat or she wouldn’t be there. But his own motives were a bit murky. In the beginning, all he’d wanted was to get information from her, and he still wanted to do that, but first and foremost, he wanted to protect her and Cait. And every time he thought about bringing up Kolnikov to see what else Laura knew, he felt like a jerk.
“I agree. You need a plan. Because no matter how protected you are here, there are other considerations. How long do you think you’ll stay?”
“I told the school Cait would be out two weeks when I called about getting her homework. The shelter is fine with Rose and Phoebe holding down the fort for a while. If I get worried about them, I can always call. And they have my cell phone number. Is that too long to stay here?”
“No, of course not.”
She smiled and seemed to relax. Jordan knew they had issues to discuss, but watching her talk, he had difficulty focusing on anything but her amazing eyes. From the first day he’d met her, he’d been entranced by those eyes. Though right now, her mouth was just as intriguing. He felt a pull toward her, an urge to kiss her.
Instead he said, “I hope your cell phone works better than mine does. This place is right between the mountains and sometimes my phone works and sometimes it doesn’t. When the weather’s bad, you can forget it. I had to call the station from the store where we stopped.”
“Well, good. At least there’s an option if I need to call someone.” She thought for a moment. “But if you’re gone, how would I get there?”
“Do you know how to drive a snowmobile? It’s the alternate mode of transportation up here—along with cross-country skis.”
“I’m a quick study. It can’t be all that difficult.”
He laughed, enjoying her self-confidence. “It’s not. But the keys to the pickup are here if there’s an emergency. And I’ll show you how to operate the snowmobile before I go…in case you want to try it out.”
“So, when are you leaving?” she asked.
“The roads are treacherous at night, so I’ll have to wait until morning. There’s a security system you can activate whether you’re inside or out. The video monitor will activate instantly if there’s a breakin and automatically alert the police. I’ll show you how to use that, too. Then I’ll come back in a day or so.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“Good. Why don’t you get settled while I bring in the groceries and put them away. I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m starving.”
“Can we make snowmen now?” Cait stood at the doorway.
Jordan looked at Laura.
“In a bit, sweetie. We have to unpack and have something to eat first.”
“But then it’ll be too dark!”
“Not to worry,” Jordan said. “We— Uh…there are lots of outside lights, so no matter how dark it is, it’ll seem just like daytime.”
Cait’s smile was huge as her gaze circled the room. “Mom, your bedroom rocks! Where’s your room, Jordan?”
“I’m sleeping downstairs.” But he knew where he’d rather be sleeping. The thought didn’t come as a surprise. He’d been feeling that way for a while now. Feeling things he knew could come to no good. “You two have the upstairs all to yourself.”
Cait spun around, arms spread as if she were a ballerina. “I feel like a princess.”
Jordan smiled. “You look like a princess, kiddo. Except you’re even prettier.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I DON’T KNOW HOW to make a snowman,” Cait said once they were outside.
For dinner, they’d had the pizza Jordan bought at the store in Big Bear, which Laura had warmed in the oven. By the time dinner was over, and with both the heat and the oven on, the place was toasty warm. She’d almost hated to go outside.
“You know, I’ve never made one before, either,” Laura said, raising her hands. “But I have a pretty good idea how to do it.” She had to laugh at how bundled up Cait was. They couldn’t find a jacket her size and the blue parka she’d picked out came down to her knees. To Cait’s delight, they’d found a small pair of women’s boots on the shelf, and they were only a little too big, she’d said, even though she could fit her shoes and all inside.
“It’s easy peasy,” Jordan said, grabbing a handful of snow. “First you make a snowball. Actually, you’ll need three snowballs.”
“We can each do one.” Cait’s voice echoed in the crisp mountain air. She held her mouth open to catch the light flakes of snow, which seemed to be falling more rapidly now.
“Sure, I’m game,” Laura said, scooping up a handful.
“Okay, once you’ve made a hard-packed snowball, you start rolling it through the snow, stopping once in a while to pat it down. We’ll need a large one for the bottom, medium for the middle and a smaller one for the head.”
“Like Frosty the Snowman,” Cait added.
“Yes.” Jordan laughed. “Just like Frosty.”
Cait decided Jordan should make the biggest part, Laura the medium and she would do the smallest since she was the smallest. Soon they were all concentrating, rolling and
pressing and patting as they went along to make perfect balls. As Laura finished the middle section, she stood up to show everyone…and a glob of snow hit her on the side of her face. She sputtered and turned to Cait. “Did you just throw a snowball at your mother?” she said indignantly.
Cait backed away, giggling like crazy. “I didn’t mean to. I never threw a snowball before and I missed where it was supposed to go.”
Practically before Cait finished her sentence, Laura felt another splat against her back. She turned to see Jordan egging Cait on. “Well, that does it,” she said, and scooped up a handful of snow, packing it into a hard ball. Within seconds a flurry of snowballs hailed around her and she was in the midst of a full-on snowball fight. The missiles flew, one after the other, pelting her time and again until her jacket was white with ice.
She’d managed a few well-placed hits herself, but finally Laura crumpled to her knees, exhausted. “I give up. I give up.” She fell back in the snow and stretched out her arms. “I’m going to make a snow angel instead.”
Cait dropped to her knees next to her. “Me, too.”
Standing above her, Jordan tossed one last snowball from hand to hand. “Don’t you dare,” she said firmly, but couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Oh, I’m so out of breath. Either I’m way out of condition, or that was a lot of work.”
“It was lots of fun,” Cait countered.
“It’s the altitude.” Jordan sat in the snow next to her. “If you’re not used to it, you can get altitude sickness. Be sure to drink lots of water.”
“But we didn’t finish the snowman,” Cait said.
Jordan tossed his snowball to her. “Let’s get busy, then.”
Two hours later, Laura had changed into a sweat suit, tucked Cait into bed and watched her drop off to sleep immediately. Playing in the snow was more exercise than either of them had had in ages.
Pulling the door ajar, Laura felt a sense of peace. She couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun. It was good to forget about her problems, and it even felt good to forget about the shelter for a while.
But forgetting didn’t make her problems go away. She had to figure a way out of this mess she’d gotten them into. She went downstairs, and halfway down, she saw Jordan on one knee in front of the huge fireplace, coaxing a few flames into a blaze. He’d changed clothes, too, probably into one of his friend’s shirts and pants since he hadn’t brought anything with him.
He turned as she descended the last step.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“I thought I wore you out.”
She walked over to him and stood with one hand on the mantel. “What…you think I’m a wimp?”
He smiled. “Not a chance.”
“All the fresh air did take its toll on Cait, though. She’s already down for the count.”
“Too bad. I thought some cocoa by the fire would be fun.”
Cocoa by the fire. Laura didn’t know what to say. This was a Jordan she hadn’t seen before. The take-charge guy had a softer side. Playful, too. “I’m sure she would’ve liked that. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Well, no reason we can’t do it, anyway—unless you’d like something stronger.”
“Actually, I would love something stronger.” She rarely had the opportunity at the shelter since she was gone several nights on street watch, and when she wasn’t, she had to be a good role model for the girls.
“Okay.” He got to his feet. “What’s your preference?”
“Did you buy something at the store?”
“No. There’s a well-stocked bar here. A wine cellar, too. Well, it’s not really a cellar, just a small room.”
He was awfully free with his friend’s property, but then, if it was okay with his friends that she was staying here, she guessed it must be okay if he drank their liquor. “A glass of wine would be great.”
“Come with me, you can pick out what you’d like.”
Together they went into the kitchen to a small stairway—three steps—leading down to a rustic, hand-carved door that looked as if it was direct from Tuscany. “The wine room,” he said, and gave the door a shove.
The room was like a small square closet with shelves on three sides, all filled with bottles. The space was so close, she felt the heat of Jordan’s body, smelled his cologne. An earthy all-male scent that made her pulse thrum. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“You’ve never seen a wine cellar?”
“Not in person…or in someone’s home.” The only wine storage she’d seen was the closet where her mother stashed whatever alcohol she had on hand, and the trash can for empty bottles—when they weren’t strewn around their trailer.
“How about a nice merlot?” He held up a bottle.
“Sure.”
They went back into the kitchen where he uncorked the wine and poured some into two delicate glasses with needle-thin stems. He handed one to her, then took her other hand and drew her back into the living room in front of the now crackling blaze. Standing only inches apart, he raised a glass. “Peace.”
She raised her glass to his. “Peace and happiness.”
As they stood there in the firelight, his steel-gray eyes seemed to shimmer. His gaze locked with hers, so intense she felt as if he could see directly into her soul. God, she hoped not. He wouldn’t like what he saw.
She shifted her stance, took a sip of wine and felt the rich liquid slide slowly down her throat, heating her from the inside out. As if her insides weren’t heated enough. “Mmm. That’s good.”
“It is, isn’t it.”
His suggestive tone said he wasn’t talking about the wine. Desire stirred low in her belly. She ran her tongue across her lips, savoring the dry wine.
“Come on.” He tugged her hand. “Let’s sit.” He grabbed two pillows off the couch and tossed them on the floor.
She had the oddest feeling he was seducing her. But then she wasn’t sure she’d recognize seduction if it bonked her on the head.
He seemed so relaxed, as if having wine in front of a blazing fire was something he was used to doing all the time. Perhaps he was. And perhaps she was letting her imagination, her wishful thinking, get out of hand. Four years of celibacy might do that to a person.
But just because she hadn’t dated for a while didn’t mean Jordan hadn’t. He probably had women all over the Valley.
She sat next to him all the same.
“I’ve forgotten how nice it is up here in the winter.” He leaned back on one elbow.
She plumped the pillow behind her and nestled into it. “I’ll bet it’s nice in the summer, too. I love the smell of pine.”
He was still watching her. Studying her.
“What else do you love? What are your passions?”
The question gave her pause. She hadn’t thought about herself for a long time. She stretched out facing him, her weight on one elbow, too. “Lots of things. Cait, for one. My friends. Helping teens…the ocean, walking on the beach, music, dancing…” She raised the glass to her lips and smiled. “A glass of good wine.”
He laughed. “One of my favorites, too. When was the last time you went dancing?”
She looked away. “Too long, I think.” She wasn’t going to admit the only dancing she’d done lately was with Cait or the girls at the shelter when they cut loose. On the other hand, they kept her on top of the latest dance crazes and she was pretty good at most of them.
“Okay. It’s your turn. What do you love to do? What are your passions?”
He grinned and, keeping his gaze on hers, said, “I love being in the moment. And sitting by a great fire with a beautiful woman is about as in the moment as it gets.”
Her heartbeat quickened. He was coming on to her. Feeling the heat from both the fire and the inferno suddenly blazing inside her, she took another sip of wine. It didn’t help. In fact, it had been so long since she’d had a glass of wine, it made her woozy. “Good,” she finally managed to say. “Tha
t way you don’t waste a lot of time living in the past or looking to a future that’s uncertain at best.”
His brows arched and he looked puzzled, as if he was still trying to figure out what to make of her.
Okay. That was too serious. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to drinking wine. It makes me too…moody and unpredictable.”
He reached over and trailed a finger down her cheek, then lifted her chin so her eyes met his. “I like unpredictable. I like you.”
Time stopped. His lips met hers, soft and warm and tasting of wine. It was a quick kiss, only a few seconds long. She touched her mouth with her fingertips. “What was that for?” she said, her voice almost a whisper.
His pupils were dilated, making his eyes seem charcoal instead of gray. “Because I’ve wanted to do that ever since I met you.”
She blinked. Her heart raced. On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed him, only she made it longer, deeper—more urgent. And this time, they shared the kiss, passions suddenly unleashed. He wrapped his arms around her and she melted into him, need engulfing her. He traced her teeth with his tongue, she nipped his bottom lip. It had been so long…so long since she’d felt a man’s strong arms, so long since she’d felt…desired.
When they moved apart, both breathless, she said, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while, too.”
They fell back, smiling, both a bit befuddled. At least she was. Good grief. What was she thinking?
After a moment, he said, “Well, now that we have that out of the way, why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”
Her guard came up. But her passion—the need—still pulsed inside. She felt as if the curtain had fallen at the end of a great play—and she didn’t want it to end. She wanted more. So much more.
What would it hurt to enjoy herself for once? What would it hurt to share something about herself? Be in the moment.
“My parents divorced when I was two. I grew up in a trailer park in Modesto with my mother. I never knew my father until I went to live with him in Sacramento. Then I moved out and went to USC.” She shrugged. “You know the rest.”