Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Dating Beckett Harper was not going to be something she could do quietly.
She wished it would just snow again so they could go back to being in their own little world.
****
“Jordyn,” Beckett said firmly.
She snapped her eyes up to his. At the word tabloids, she almost went full-panic mode, and he recognized it immediately. Of course he was interested in the only girl ever who preferred not to be in the tabloids. Of course. It was like the universe’s way for getting back at him for his past. He wished he could hear what she was thinking about right now. Or maybe not, because it didn’t look good for him.
“Stop worrying,” he insisted. “We’ll deal with it if and when it happens.”
“You don’t care if we are in the tabloids?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. At least this time I’d actually be dating who they said I was.”
“What if they”—she dropped her voice to a whisper—“find out things about me.”
He clenched his fist under the table at that. She had a point there. He knew they’d want to know who she was, but to have her dirty laundry aired like that, have the story told about her mom . . . that just wasn’t going to work. And if the thing with Thomas was ever brought to light, he’d have to kill someone. Probably Thomas. “Look, let’s talk more about this later. I doubt anyone will care much who I’m dating anymore. The good news is that you aren’t some high-profile name like some of my . . . acquaintances . . . were in the past.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew those were not the words he should have said. Wow, he sounded like a total ass. She was ticked. And the heat in her face was lovely, but the way she was looking at him was not. There was playful and flustered Jordyn, and there was angry Jordyn. This was not the type of angry he was looking for.
“‘Conquests’ is a better term.”
“Jordyn,” he hissed.
“What?” she snapped back, looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “That’s what they were.”
He knew she probably would’ve said more, but she was trying not to make a scene. He ran a hand through his hair. Why was she so difficult? “Yeah, they were, but you are not. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were inadequate. That’s not at all what I meant. You are anything but ordinary. I just meant that you aren’t famous, and I’m washed up and obviously not going to play anymore. I doubt anyone cares.”
His career was over. So maybe it would be okay. Heartbreak Harper had disappeared from the tabloids for almost two years now. And he preferred it that way.
“I’m just a bit scared,” she said in a shaky voice. “It’s intimidating to even think about or consider.”
He reached across and grabbed her hand to give it a quick kiss on the knuckles. “I’ve got you.”
She sighed, dropping it for now.
“This is the worst date. I hate this date. Let’s eat and get out of here. Someday I’ll take you on a real date,” he promised.
They needed to get out of here. Before someone else came over and interrupted—and before Rose said something else that made Jordyn nervous. Sometimes he felt like their relationship was dangling by a thread. If it wasn’t her having to go back to Houston, it was his reputation. They’d been nothing but doomed from the start.
Two-Faced Toxic Psycho
CHAPTER 15
The rest of the evening went well. Rose, sensing her discomfort, came over and told a few embarrassing stories about Beckett. It gave Jordyn hope. Beckett was not what the tabloids thought he was, and she needed to remind herself daily. She couldn’t date Beckett Harper without also dating his reputation no matter how badly she wanted to. She had been naïve enough, or still just shocked they were actually dating, that she never thought it would really be an issue. And he didn’t seem to care that they’d be officially together like that in the tabloids. It was one thing for him to tell someone she was his girl; it was a whole other thing to be plastered in the tabloids with her. Regardless, if he was the celebrity here and didn’t care, why should she?
“Divide and conquer in the store since it’s getting late?” Beckett asked as he parked his truck at the grocery store. “I kind of wanted to cuddle up and watch a movie when we got home, especially since part one of our date went so terribly.”
“You want to cuddle?” she asked, surprised.
“Well, yeah. Mable doesn’t cuddle quite like you do.” He shrugged with a grin. His one dimple when he joked around like this was going to be etched into her memory forever.
They split up the list, and she went to the produce while he went to the other end of the store; they’d work their way and meet up in the middle. But before he left to do his part, he was sure to leave her with a kiss on the cheek.
See? Beckett Harper was a gentleman. Heartbreak Harper would never be seen with a woman in a grocery store, much less kiss a woman on the cheek.
She was picking out some apples for an apple crisp she wanted to make when someone approached her. Honestly, she just wanted to get in and out of the grocery store as quickly as possible. What was with these small-town people?
“Hi, you must be Jordyn,” the intruder said with a smile and reached her hand out to her.
Uh-oh. Was this one of Beckett’s many admirers? She’d seen some of the looks women sent her at Rose’s. It was either pity or jealousy most of the time. Since her mom left her at sixteen, she was used to the pity looks, so it didn’t bother her too much. The jealousy looks were a bit weird, but since Beckett was a handsome bachelor, she got it.
“Hi,” she said, shaking the intruder’s hand.
“I’m Grace. I went to high school with Beckett. How are you liking it here?” she asked.
“It’s cold?” Jordyn replied honestly. What was with these people from high school tonight? They were everywhere. Better his high school than hers though, she supposed.
Grace laughed. “I agree. I went to college in Florida just to get away from the winters here.”
She seemed nice enough. And of course, exactly when Jordyn thought that, Grace had to go and butt in with “Beckett dated my sister in high school.”
“Oh, okay. Small world,” Jordyn said stupidly. She’d love to face-palm herself right now. Small world? Small town, so duh. She wanted to walk farther down to the bags of carrots, but that would seem rude given what Grace just said.
Grace smiled nicely. No animosity or jealousy that she could tell. Hmm?
“Just be careful with that one. He takes a while to get over,” she said then panicked, eyes wide, like she said something wrong. She added, “But then again, my sister was young and that was a lifetime ago. He seems different with you. Sorry.”
How would she know Beckett was different with her? She’d never even seen this person before. “Well, he doesn’t seem like how I expected Heartbreak Harper to be, but thanks for the warning.” She nodded curtly. This conversation was so weird. When did it get to end? Now, hopefully. Where were those carrots?
“He’s not really how they make him out to be,” said Grace. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Grace looked startled. “I’m sorry, that’s weird, and I’m being awkward. I’m married. Happily married. So is my sister. I didn’t mean it like that. We all just grew up together, you know? I was more so trying to protect you. Sorry!”
If he wasn’t how they made him out to be, what exactly did she need protection from?
But then she understood what Grace was getting at. She just knew. Getting over Beckett Harper was going to be a hell of a lot harder than it would’ve been to get over Heartbreak Harper. Heartbreak Harper was a one-night stand type of man; Beckett Harper was a gentleman. When Thomas broke her heart, it sucked, but the relationship was fairly easy to get over because he was such a dang jerk. Beckett had never been a jerk to her.
Yep. This type of heartbreak was going to be completely different and annihilating. It woul
d cut deep, forging a chasm in her poor heart.
Fortunately, her conversation with Grace got to end because Beckett came over with a cart full of groceries. He looked at the two of them, confused, but kept his sights on Jordyn until he reached them.
“Grace.” He nodded toward her before giving Jordyn a kiss on the cheek again. “You ready, Jordyn?”
Thank goodness. Saved by Beckett. She nodded. “Yep, let’s go home. Nice to meet you, Grace.”
As they walked away, checked out, and loaded the truck, Beckett could not stop smiling. When they were headed back out to the farm, she finally asked, “Is your ex-girlfriend’s sister talking to me in the store so dang amusing?”
He shook his head, confused for a moment. “Whoa! Grace? No, not at all. That wasn’t what I was smiling about. Why, what’d she say?”
Jordyn joined him in confusion. “I’m not really sure, but I think she was preparing me for the mother of all heartbreaks with you.”
That seemed to make him mad. “Just because I dumped her sister doesn’t mean I’m going to dump you.”
Interesting choice of words. Then again, they were adults, and her breakup with Beckett would probably be mutual—no dumping in the traditional high school sense. Shoot, this wasn’t even dating in the traditional sense. Maybe that’s what Beckett meant. “I’m not sure that’s what she meant. She was actually very nice. It was awkward but nice. She said she was happily married and so was your ex. So I have that going for me. I’m not sure I could compete with your high school love.”
He scoffed at that. “It was not love. We were both young and stupid. And you could compete with the best of them, honey.”
She laughed at his praise. “So why the heck were you smiling like a fool for the last five minutes, then?”
He slowly grinned. “When I asked if you were ready, you told me ‘let’s go home.’ You said ‘home.’”
She wanted to stop smiling as she realized her mistake. Uh-oh. Yes, Beckett’s house was feeling more and more like home. She shouldn’t have slipped up like that, but he was so happy, so darn pleased she’d said it, that she found she didn’t regret it. “I guess I did.”
****
What a night. First Rose and the tabloid nonsense, then Grace at the store. Sometimes he wanted to move far, far away and never come back. Most of the people here meant well though; Rose was right. He could think of at least ten people who, if he ever needed anything, would come running the second he’d mention it. Living in a town the size of Picketts was both a curse and blessing. But it was home.
The night did get better when they got to relax by the fire and watch a movie. Jordyn fell asleep about thirty minutes in, but he didn’t mind.
Getting snowed in had offered him the solitude with this woman to develop some very real feelings for her, very fast. If they hadn’t been snowed in together, would she have ever gotten over his being a football player? Would he have ever seen the girl who had been through hell and still made a name for herself—or would he have been stuck on the fact that she was from the city? She would have left that night, and he would’ve never seen her again.
Yeah. Getting snowed in with Jordyn was a miracle. Neither of them probably would have given each other a chance or even another passing thought if they weren’t forced to live together for a week. And he had nine days left with her. Who was counting though, right? Nine days to prove to her . . . hell, he didn’t know what he needed to prove to her. He just didn’t want her to leave. But he couldn’t be that clingy guy and ask her to stay. He had no idea how he got to be this guy anyway, but here he was. He should probably check on his manhood, but knowing the number of cold showers he’d been taking this last week, he knew everything was all still there and working properly. All systems go.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he was in no hurry to move. It was probably Blakely since they went to Rose’s again. Then two more buzzes came, followed by text messages. He thought it would wake up Jordyn, so he moved to grab his cell phone.
Harper!
Hey you.
Heard you were doing a commercial, baby.
Who the hell was this and why were they calling him baby? Weird. He felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck.
He responded with Who is this?
A response arrived almost immediately. Please. You know. You can’t forget me that easily, Harper.
He clenched his jaw. Yep. It had to be Ariana. The supermodel. The supermodel who ruined women for him. The one girl he never wanted to see again. The one who told him he was a nobody and that he couldn’t possibly support her. That same one he had deleted from his phone and wanted to delete from his memory for forever. He was still mad he fell for that crap and actually thought at one point she was a good person. He took a deep breath before responding back.
Ariana, I can forget you that easily. I meant what I said the last time we spoke. It’s over. And the only reason you are texting me now is because you think you can get in on the commercial. Not happening.
And in true Ariana fashion, she responded with a simple We’ll see, Harper.
Talk about a mood killer. This right here—Jordyn curled into him with her head on his chest while he ran his fingers through her soft hair— was a good thing he had going. No, it wasn’t that physical yet. But it could be. It would be eventually. Considering the chemistry they had just kissing, he knew the rest was going to be pretty spectacular whenever they got around to it. Emotionally he was on a nine-day time crunch, but in not rushing the physical part of their relationship, he was hoping to show her that Heartbreak Harper was a thing of the past.
And then Ariana just had to come back snooping into his business after two years of radio silence. He guaranteed it was because she got wind of the Super Bowl commercial. If she could somehow get in on it, she would book her calendar for the rest of the year. Typical. She was a user. And all about herself. Ariana wasn’t even her real name. It was her model name. Yeah. She was a trip.
He carried Jordyn down the hallway and into the guest bedroom, vowing not to let some two-faced toxic psycho ruin what he had with Jordyn. This was different. She was different. And he only had nine days to prove to her how much he cared.
Burnt Porkchops
CHAPTER 16
Laundry. She needed to do some serious laundry. Had Jordyn known she was going to be staying so long, she would’ve packed more outfits. And more leggings. And more hoodies. Hoodies were her weakness. She knew they were unflattering and bulky, but since she was always cold, they were her go-to. Even in Houston. Houston was weird in that in January and February it could get really cold. Not negative temperatures, thank the Lord, but the ever-present humidity made it feel colder than it was. Like a damp, chill-your-bones type of cold. So hoodies were a must. Just not in August or September when it was so hot your sweat had sweat.
She realized her mistake after the first load of laundry finished washing. She washed all her cardigans and hoodies together, thus didn’t have one. And she was starting to feel cold. She had just decided to sit by the fire to finish her work emails when she opened the dryer to switch the clothes and found a load of Beckett’s stuff.
There was one of his red Nebraska hooded sweatshirts. His alma mater. The team he played for.
Yep. That was hers now. Finders keepers.
She even went a little wild and crazy and gave the dryer a five-minute warm-up so she could put on Beckett’s warm hoodie.
As she put it on she may have embarrassingly enough let out an “ahhh” type of noise. It was a huge hoodie, going way past her butt. Like she was fairly certain she could wear just his hoodie as a dress. Which led to other not-so-appropriate thoughts about wearing a T-shirt of Beckett’s to bed every night, and possibly even a ring on her finger. Okay, she needed to stop.
Yeah. All that from a warm Beckett hoodie. She needed to get a grip. She rolled up the sleeves and tucked the back part into the back of her leggings, and then she was set to go. And warm.
Not long after, the doorbell rang. She jumped before she remembered that Beckett had told her the veterinarian was coming over to check on the hurt heifer, who Jordyn had affectionately nicknamed Bess.
She swung open the door, forgetting she was wearing Beckett’s hoodie—and the fact that she probably looked super gangster with it on.
“Holy crap,” the voice said.
She looked at the man and thought, ditto. This could not be the vet, could it? She was expecting some gray-haired, balding, pudgy old guy. With glasses. Possibly gout. Not this guy. He looked just as in shape as Beckett did! Did they do that CrossFit stuff together or something? Neither one of them had obviously skipped leg day in a while. Or arm day. Or neck day. Allllll the days.
“Hi,” she finally sputtered, looking around him for someone else. Surely this was not the vet?!
“Hi.” He smiled, one hand in his front pocket, the other holding his veterinary kit. “Beckett told me you were from Texas. So when I rang the doorbell and saw you in his Nebraska hoodie, I was taken by surprised for a second.” He shook his head, a half smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “He’s got you in red already. We were taking bets on it in town. Not even kidding.”
She smiled. This town and their red wearing and Husker cheering. They were nothing but loyal, she’d give them that. “I’m Jordyn. And that’s just fine. I was taken aback too. I was expecting someone . . . ”
“Older?” he offered. “I get that a lot.”
She smiled. “I’m sure you do.” She was surrrre he did.
The man was attractive, like a hard-to-look-away type of attractive. He was obviously intelligent too if he was a doctor. He had on a work coat and jeans but still looked fit. And where Beckett was blond-haired, blue-eyed, and solid muscle, this guy had green eyes and brown hair—the same shade as hers—with a leaner frame.
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