by Janie Crouch
“Jordan.”
The sound of her name on his lips had the tightness inside her building again. She clenched around him, loving how he snarled and thrust deeper still.
It was his lips sucking hard at the side of her neck and the hand clutching at her breast with no finesse that threw her over the edge.
The orgasm ripped through her, all the more powerful because it was both of them together this time. When his body jerked, and he shouted her name, it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.
Chapter 16
Jordan wasn’t exactly sure how relationships worked, but she was pretty sure what was happening with her and Gabriel wasn’t normal.
The first four days after the fire, the two of them were barely out of each other’s sight. They might not have left the bed at all if they hadn’t needed to eat.
And even then, they rarely made it back to the bed without some sort of lovemaking on a different piece of furniture. She was never going to look at her kitchen table or couch or especially the ottoman he’d bent her over the same ever again.
As her hands had healed, she’d allowed her body to become drunk on their lovemaking to help take her mind off the fact that she didn’t have a job, she’d lost all the coding she’d done on the computer, and she had no means of restarting since her computer had been destroyed.
And she didn’t know how long Gabriel would be around. She woke each morning wondering if this would be the day he left.
On the fourth day, yesterday, he had. He’d gone into Oak Creek to buy a few things, including, much to Jordan’s embarrassment, the tampons she knew she would need in the next day or so.
Evidently, even Navy SEALs had undefeatable foes, and their name was tampons, because he hadn’t come back. She hadn’t heard anything from him yesterday or all day today.
She knew he would have to leave eventually; she just hadn’t thought it would be so abruptly. She called herself all sorts of foolish and naive for letting his absence hurt her. They’d had no promises between them. He’d been kind enough to take care of her until she could do it herself, which now that her hands were almost healed, she could.
She couldn’t accuse him of taking advantage of her. She’d been more than willing to participate in anything he’d suggested. She had suggested quite a few of their escapades herself. She didn’t blame him for that.
She’d known this thing between them wasn’t forever but had expected more from him than a disappearing act and thirty-six hours of silence.
The knock on her door caught her off guard. She reached toward her shotgun as she opened it.
Gabriel stood there. Her first thought was to lay into him for not coming back or at least calling. Then she got a good look at him.
His eyes were sunken, his skin almost gray with exhaustion. Pain and tension bracketed his full lips.
He held a box of tampons in his hand.
But it was the heartbreak inside those green eyes that had her opening the door for him and inviting him inside. She had firsthand experience with hopelessness and despair and wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially this proud warrior.
But he wouldn’t come in, just stood there on her porch, looking, for all of his height and muscle, like he had no strength left. So she stepped outside into the cold with him. Whatever was or wasn’t happening between them, this was obviously more important.
“What can I do to help?” She reached out and touched his arm, then realized he might not want her to touch him. But before she could move her hand away, he covered it with his own.
Gabriel stared at her silently for a long moment. “I can’t believe you’re asking me what you can do to help me.”
Before she could even get another word out, Gabriel crushed her against his chest. She wrapped her arms around him, willing to do her damnedest to fend off whatever had put this look in his eyes.
“Is Violet okay?” It was the only thing she could think of that would affect him in such a way.
“Violet is fine now, at least physically. Emotionally . . .” He let out a deep sigh. “That’s going to take much longer to heal.”
He set down the box, wrapped his arms around her hips, and lifted her off the ground. She brought her arms around his neck, threading her fingers in his hair, and holding on to him as he buried his face in her neck and breathed.
“The whole way here I thought you would turn me away,” he said after a long minute. “You have every right to turn me away. I have a good reason for disappearing, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t know that I’m just another person who let you down.”
He finally lowered her feet back to the ground, and she noticed his wince.
She stepped back, studying him more closely. “Are you hurt? What the hell is going on? I thought you got scared off by a box of tampons. That you weren’t ready for whatever implied commitment that entailed, not that you’d run off and gotten yourself punched in the gut.”
“Shot, actually, but through Kevlar, so yeah, it’s like a really bad punch to the gut.” He gave her a smile, but it didn’t wipe the sadness from his features, nor did it come anywhere close to meeting his eyes.
She had so many questions, but she didn’t want to pry. Even though he had a good reason, his sudden departure made her question exactly where they stood. Maybe he wouldn’t want to talk about this.
So she just kept it simple and told him the truth. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, but I’m glad you’re here.”
He ran a finger down her cheek. “I hurt you.”
“It’s okay. I—”
“No, it’s not okay. Yes, there was an emergency. I thought for months that the man who had orchestrated Violet’s kidnapping had been eliminated. But I was wrong. He was closer than either of us could’ve believed. I didn’t even know I had an enemy, and he was right next to me all along.”
She took him by the hand and led him inside. “Sometimes knowing your enemies doesn’t soften the blow. Sometimes it just hurts no matter what.”
She knew her enemies in Oak Creek, and that didn’t do much to make their hatred easier to bear.
She sat him down at the table and made coffee for them both, the box of tampons sitting between them, and just listened. Listened as he told her about Stellman, the man behind Violet’s kidnapping and human trafficking, being back from the dead. How his sister had been taken again yesterday and how she and Aiden Teague were almost killed.
He grabbed her hand and told her how if he hadn’t been at that drugstore to buy her tampons, Violet would probably be dead. That the fire at the bakery hadn’t been someone from Oak Creek at all, but this Stellman guy trying to capture Violet.
And although she wished it hadn’t happened at all, she was glad at least nobody from Oak Creek hated her enough to try and kill her.
As far as excuses went for not showing up, Gabriel’s was a pretty damn good one. More than anything, Jordan was glad everyone was safe.
“The last day and a half have been a complete madhouse. That doesn’t excuse the fact that I didn’t get in touch with you. You needed me, and I wasn’t here.”
She reached over to cup his cheek. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
Gabe slept that night wrapped in Jordan’s arms. Sleeping with a woman wasn’t new to him. He’d never been the type of guy who cut out after sex. Feeling a woman’s soft curves against him, holding her against his chest in silent thanks for her being so open with her body, had always been part of intimacy for him.
He was well aware of his own strength and size. He had to use care to make sure he never hurt a woman. He’d been brought up, first by his father and then by the navy, to understand he was a protector. He was meant to stand between those who would cause harm and those who didn’t have the means to fight. He’d always accepted the role of guardian, cherished it, even.
But instead of him holding her, it was her smaller body sheltering him. As if she would stand guard and protect him against his foes even thou
gh she didn’t have nearly his size or strength.
The next morning, he sipped his coffee as he watched Jordan through the kitchen window. She sat outside on the porch in the rocking chair, like she had every morning. Once again, she was wrapped in a blanket, this time over a loose sweatshirt, yoga pants, and warm socks, which she had been able to manipulate herself now that her hands weren’t wrapped anymore.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen such a look of peace on anyone’s face as she stared out at the land in front of her.
He was finally understanding why she stayed in Oak Creek despite everyone disliking her so much. This place—the land, the house—was in her very bones. She drew strength from it, in what she was doing now: sitting there and soaking it all in.
To anyone else, it would just be Wyoming in the middle of winter. Cold, somewhat barren, not much to see or experience. But not for Jordan.
She’d told him about her mother, who had died of a brain aneurysm when Jordan was ten. She’d told him how the house and land had been passed down from daughter to daughter, never actually being put in husbands’ names. That was why she’d been able to keep it when law enforcement had frozen any accounts or finances associated with Michael Reiss after he’d stolen all the money and disappeared.
She’d told him how hard being away from here had been while she’d been incarcerated. How she’d taken to drawing pictures of the fields and trees surrounding her house from memory—not that she was much of an artist—in order to keep sane.
The thought of this beautiful, sensual creature totally in love with her land and home being imprisoned for something that could’ve happened to anyone, hurt even his rusty heart.
The next three days, they spent cocooned with each other like they had at first. Finding out she was a virgin had supercharged every possessive, alpha instinct Gabe had. He hadn’t been able to stop touching her, pulling her close, caring for her.
Not that she seemed to mind. She reveled in it, moving closer to him whenever he reached for her. She snuggled up against him when they talked, when they watched television, when they slept. And while he’d been delighted to explore with her the different aspects—and positions—about sex she liked most, he realized it wasn’t just sex that was new to her.
It all was new to her, right down to the slightest friendly touch.
She soaked in every hug, kiss, stroke. She leaned into him every time he pulled her to his side or down onto his lap.
She was starved for touch, and he didn’t even think she was aware of it. Regardless, he had no intention of making her ask for it. He wanted her close as much as she seemed to want to be close. Which was fine with him; touching her healed hardened parts inside him too.
But all the healing—physical and emotional—meant it was time for him to leave.
He didn’t want to. But things couldn’t stay the way they were, with both of them holed up in her house, ignoring the real world.
Case in point, the way she came inside now, getting dressed for the day.
“Where are you going?”
She held her hands out in front of him, wiggling her fingers. “They’re all better, so it’s time for me to look for a new job, at least until Fancy Pants reopens. With Aiden’s injuries, Violet may not be in such a hurry for that anymore.”
He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. The blisters weren’t as pronounced, but they still had to be a little tender. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here and play hooky with me?”
She leaned over and kissed him. “Maybe we can play a little something else when I get home later. But the bills have got to get paid.”
This woman. Her quiet strength was staggering. It was easy to forget that she was so young—not even twenty-four. When he’d been that age, he’d been a hotshot SEAL with all his arrogance and stupidity swinging freely for anyone to see.
This woman could’ve been a SEAL. She was smart enough, strong enough. And she damn well wouldn’t ever have walked around acting arrogant; it wasn’t in her nature.
Jordan had the most enduring of strengths . . . the kind that could bend. Reshape itself. The kind that withstood. Sustained. Battened down until the storm blew over.
The kind of hushed strength many people would mistake for weakness.
They’d be wrong.
“I can make it worth your while if you decide to stay.”
Her fingers trailed along his temple. “I have no doubt that’s true, but unfortunately, that’s still not going to pay the bills.”
He got up and walked in with her. He rinsed out their coffee mugs as she went into her room to get dressed. A sticky note on her refrigerator caught his attention, as it had multiple times before, although he’d never asked her about it.
$622,000.
That was all it said on the yellow paper.
Jordan came out a few minutes later dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a blue shirt, her thick brown hair pulled back in a braid.
He tapped the note. “What costs $622,000?”
She stiffened before shrugging a shoulder. “The amount of money I need for the life I want.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the fridge, waiting for her to elaborate, but she didn’t.
Quite a vague answer for such a specific amount. Definitely more than this house and land were worth, although since she already owned both, she shouldn’t need to buy it.
Maybe a house somewhere else? Starting over in a different country? A share in a yacht?
What was the life she wanted to live? Gabe had no idea.
“What sort of job are you looking for?” He didn’t even know what skill sets she had. He knew she liked computers. She’d been working on something—he wasn’t sure what—on the old laptop he’d lent her, since the vandals had destroyed hers.
She put a piece of bread in the toaster. “I’m not picky. Whatever is available. Hopefully, the bakery will reopen soon. I just need to keep a positive cash flow.” She held up a piece of bread in question. He nodded.
“I guess cash flow is important to get to $622,000.”
He hoped she would explain more, but she just laughed. “That’s for sure.”
“Are there a lot of available jobs in Oak Creek?”
She rolled her eyes. “I stopped looking for jobs in Oak Creek a week after I got out of prison. Nobody here is going to hire me. Your sister was the only exception, since she knew Charlie. It will be hard enough with my criminal record in Reddington City, but I’ll be able to find something.”
Frustration ate at Gabe. Jordan was smart, well spoken, and friendly. She should be able to do so much more than just whatever she was able to find. But hell, he had his own business problems to work out, big changes he was thinking about after what had happened with Violet. He probably shouldn’t be offering life advice to anyone else until he got his own shit together.
They ate their toast, neither of them talking much.
“If I get offered something right away, I might not make it home all day,” she told him. “Were you going to stay here?”
“If that’s okay. There’s a lot of stuff I need to work through. A lot of changes for my company that I need to figure out. And I’ve got my laptop here, so I’ll use that.”
“You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to, Gabriel. I’m not going to be upset or anything.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” He cocked his head to the side and gave her a casual smile, but he was hanging on her response.
“Not at all. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to stay if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” he said. And he meant it.
She winked at him. “Okay, but don’t steal any of my stuff. I’ll see you when I get home.”
Chapter 17
Hours after Jordan left, Gabe settled into the rocking chair on her front porch. The more time he spent here, the more he could understand Jordan’s connection to the land.
There was something healing about it
. He’d been raised in Idaho Falls, and Idaho wasn’t all that different from Wyoming in its topography and landscape. But there was something about this particular place that soothed the soul.
Its beauty was like Jordan, he realized. So quiet and unassuming that you almost missed it. But once you did see it, it was inescapable.
He’d gotten a text from her just after lunch. She’d found some work for the day and wouldn’t be back until after dinner.
What was he going to do about his own company? The week’s events were forcing him to take a much closer look at his overall goals. Collingwood Technology had been his parents’ brainchild —they’d both been engineers—and had never actually been Gabe’s passion. It was only after they’d died, when he’d been forced to leave the military and come home to raise Violet, that he’d put his focus into the company. And for twelve years, it had been fine. Maybe not what he would’ve done with his life had the situation been different, but certainly not something he dreaded each day.
Even though he enjoyed the business aspect of running the company, he hadn’t had much of a chance to spend time doing the research and development parts he loved the most. When was the last time he’d been in a lab and used his engineering skills? Or even the coding and computer work that he loved so much? For the past few years, there had been less and less opportunity to do what he enjoyed as more and more of his time was taken up with the daily grind of running a multimillion-dollar business.
But now he was at a turning point.
God knew he already had all the money he needed. He could sell the company and live the rest of his life in luxury. Although that didn’t interest him either.
The challenge had always been what interested him.
It was time for him to take a good look at why he was staying at Collingwood Technology. Violet had already gotten out to follow her passions in baking and build a life here in Oak Creek.