Promise Cove

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Promise Cove Page 25

by Vickie McKeehan


  He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “My pleasure. I’m glad you had a good time. “

  “Oh, I did. The best.”

  When they got back they put Hutton to bed as a team. When they got the sleeping baby tucked in, they stood there a moment and watched her sleep. Nick leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on Jordan’s forehead. Just the slight brush to her skin had every nerve in his body tingling.

  Looking up in his eyes, she whispered, “I’m so glad you’re here, Nick.”

  “Are you?” He put his hands on her waist, drew her into him. With his body he backed her out of the baby’s room, out into the dark hallway, bent his head, found her mouth.

  Acting on instinct, she sucked in his tongue. Glorious heat, wet and wonderful, spiked between them. She melded into his taut chest. But just when things started heating up for her, once again, Nick ended the kiss, backing away. In the dark hallway, she heard, rather than saw, his sharp intake of breath.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  He started the move past her, but she grabbed his hand. “Not this time, Nick.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.” He saw Jordan swallow hard, saw the rejection in her eyes. “It isn’t you.”

  Tired of the rebuffs, she retorted, “Oh, really? You could have fooled me. I’m tired of making an ass out of myself with you. I just don’t get you, Nick. One minute you’re the epitome of seduction, the next you play devil’s advocate. Are you purposefully trying to be mean, sending me so many mixed signals? When it gets right down to it, you obviously aren’t that attracted to me.”

  “Are you nuts? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” He ran a hand through his hair and realized it wasn’t just a line. “I’d love nothing more than to take you to bed, make love with you. Don’t you get it? It takes every single cell I have inside me, not to. I’m not ready to be a substitute for―” He’d almost said Scott. “Your husband.” There he’d said it. “You don’t think I saw your face tonight when we got to the restaurant. Stand there and tell me you weren’t thinking about another time, another place…with him.”

  “I…” How could she deny it? “Nick…”

  He lifted her chin. “You don’t have to say a word, baby. Let’s face it, you aren’t over him. And I’m not quite prepared to be his stand-in. Every time I’m near you, I think I am, I think I can be. But this is too important, maybe more important than anything I’ve ever done.”

  With that he turned and walked down the hall, leaving her standing there with her mouth gaped open. Seconds later, she heard the back door open and close.

  Like all the other times, Nick had gone. And she was left alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next morning when Nick didn’t show up for breakfast Jordan knew something was wrong. She didn’t have the heart to go looking for him either. What would she say? She wasn’t certain she could assure him that she had indeed put Scott completely behind her. At the same time, she resented being put in the situation where the decision was all on her. Why should it be? Couldn’t she simply have sex with the guy and be done with it?

  Who was she kidding? Of course she couldn’t. Nick was right about that, the next step was too important to simply jump in the sack. She had Hutton to consider.

  But she wanted Nick, she knew that much without a doubt. She just wasn’t absolutely certain she was ready to take that next step. No doubt he had read that indecision, her hesitancy, like a book. Had she been that easy to read each time they’d gotten close? Maybe all this time she’d been the one sending the wrong signals.

  Okay, so she wasn’t a major player in the game. She glanced at her hungry daughter waiting patiently for breakfast. No, she wasn’t a player, she was a mother. Instead of dwelling on her lack of a sex life, on automatic, she poured a bowl of cold cereal for Hutton, something she rarely did.

  Jordan drank her obligatory first morning cup of coffee, wondering all the while where Nick was. As if she were missing an arm, she went to the kitchen window and longingly looked out across the lawn to the studio apartment. If she had the slightest bit of courage she’d walk up those steps over the garage and see if he’d packed up and left for good.

  While Jordan spent an agonizing morning over him, Nick had taken another trip to the cemetery. Sitting at the foot of Scott’s grave, he looked around at the peaceful surroundings. What the hell was he doing here anyway? He’d meant to stay and help. Now he’d only complicated Jordan’s life and his own. He ran a hand through his hair. “Damn you Scott, this isn’t what you wanted. What kind of a mess have I made of everything now? Come on, damn it. You haven’t been able to leave me alone for a year.” He got to his feet, defiant. “You wanted to talk yesterday, well here I am.” He paced up and down the length of the plot. “Now, I get the silent treatment. Come on, you son of a bitch, talk to me. What am I supposed to do now?”

  By the time Jordan heard his motorcycle head up the driveway a few minutes before noon, she was a walking set of nerves.

  For one thing she’d spent hours painstakingly preparing a French casserole for lunch using one of Ellen’s recipes, a recipe that had seemed off with each ingredient. But for something different or more like special, she had even set the table in the dining room where she now stood nervously waiting like a schoolgirl for him to walk through the door. Should she pretend to be busy doing…something? Screw that, she thought, as she heard his footsteps on the porch.

  But when he came striding in, her courage took a nosedive. He looked simply heartbroken. She fought the urge to ask where he’d spent his morning, what he’d been doing with his time. Instead, she tried for lighthearted to put him more at ease, maybe take that pained look off his face. “I should’ve known you’d decide to show up around mealtime. We missed you at breakfast.”

  Nick took one look at her standing in the dining room, saw that glow on her face that seemed to be constant and immediately his spirits lifted, like he’d come home. He noticed the table set in the dining room with her good dishes and asked, “We having company?”

  “No. But I made something special, just wanted to try it out on my two test subjects.”

  He put his motorcycle helmet down on the hall table along with his keys and eyed Hutton, who had toddled over to him. As he bent down to scoop her up, Hutton held her arms outstretched and said, “Da.”

  At that one word, his heart slammed in his chest. Had Jordan heard? From twenty feet away he met her eyes, and realized she must have, even though she said nothing. Instead, she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving all her emotions like him, bottled up, unspoken.

  “Hey there, Blondie. Let’s go wash up and have us some grub. You hungry? I’m starving.”

  Minutes later, Nick came back, quickly slipped Hutton into her high chair and took a seat at the table. He ran a hand across the front of his T-shirt. “I feel slightly under-dressed.”

  “It isn’t that kind of special. I just thought we’d eat in here to be different.”

  “Whatever the reason, everything looks great.”

  “Looks gate,” mimicked Hutton, clapping her hands together, waiting for the food.

  “Looks like your pigs are ready and waiting at the trough,” Nick joked.

  Smiling, Jordan began passing around the food. “Let’s hope it tastes as good as it looks.”

  But it didn’t. After taking her first taste Hutton scrunched up her face and spit it out. Jordan looked at Nick who was a tad more subtle than the baby. He concentrated on his salad, pushing the cheesy main dish around on his plate without meeting her eyes. Jordan caught Hutton’s arm in mid-windup just as she was about to hurl the stuff over the side of her tray. “Well, judging from the panel of experts, I guess I can take the French casserole off the dinner menu.”

  Diplomatically Nick offered, “It might have limited appeal.”

  “Or no appeal. You’d think with all that cheese it would taste better. Maybe I should stick with what I know best and serve simple, basic
fare, forget about fancy dishes.”

  “Fancy’s overrated. Nothing wrong with simple.”

  Getting up from the table Jordan asked, “Who wants a peanut butter sandwich with homemade blackberry jam?”

  Nick leaned closer to Hutton’s high chair and worked on getting her to do a high five with her little hand. “Now we’re talking. Aren’t we, Blondie?”

  Later, as she picked up the dishes to carry into the kitchen, Jordan joked, “Nothing like eating peanut butter sandwiches off the good plates in a formal dining room to make the meal more elegant.”

  “Well, it was organic peanut butter. And you could market that jam of yours.”

  He followed her into the kitchen carrying the bad-tasting casserole. “Do you think Quake would eat it?”

  “I don’t want to make him sick. Chunk it down the disposal.”

  Nick began scraping the vile concoction into the sink. When she saw he intended to help her with the dishes, she shook her head, telling him, “Go on. Keep an eye on Hutton. It won’t take me long to clean this mess up and start the dishwasher. I’ll put her down for her nap after I get done in here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  As soon as she had the kitchen cleaned up, she headed down the hallway to the living room. Before she rounded the corner, the quiet told her the TV wasn’t on. There were no voices, no giggling, and no sounds of playing. She stopped and stared. Nick was sprawled on the rug and Hutton had curled up beside him with her little arms resting on his chest. In a matter of minutes they had both fallen sound asleep. Unbelievably moved, Jordan sat down in the nearest chair. Her eyes blurred with tears. Her heart felt like bursting with the love she had for this man.

  That afternoon, they packed up their beach gear and headed down the trail to the cove to spend the rest of the day near the water. It didn’t take five minutes before Hutton and Quake were soon running around on the beach. At one point, Hutton tripped and fell, started crying and before Jordan could reach her, Nick had her bundled up in his arms, instinctively brushing the sand off of her face and out of her eyes, telling her, “Hey there, it’s okay. Shhhh, don’t cry.”

  Jordan watched carefully as Nick bounced her daughter up and down before gently sitting her back down on the sand, trying to distract her with a plastic shovel as he moved sand back and forth. Forgetting the tumble, Hutton soon started to get the hang of the shovel. With wet sand she began work on piling the stuff into a mound. With his big hands Nick began to shape the mound of sand into something resembling a castle.

  She wasn’t sure when it happened exactly but slowly Nick had broken that block around her heart, allowing her grief for Scott to find another place to dwell. There was no doubt in her mind he had finally managed to push that pain and anger to a new place. Each day with him here, the sorrow around her heart lessened and now…

  Jordan suddenly remembered she hadn’t put sunblock on Hutton and dug into the diaper bag for it. She took the bottle over to where Hutton sat in the sand and started trying to rub the sticky stuff onto her face and arms. Not wanting to be interrupted, Hutton protested by squirming, then fussing until Nick pulled her onto his lap and said, “Come on, Blondie, mama’s got to get this stuff rubbed in so you don’t burn like toast.”

  If anyone had been watching, the three of them looked like any young family, two parents struggling with a resistant toddler, who were trying to get the child to comply without much of a fuss. The way he interacted with Hutton, no one would have believed the man had no experience around a baby. As Jordan turned to put away the sunscreen back in the bag, it hit her then, how her daughter had called him Da when he’d walked in the house.

  But then, she also remembered he’d all but ignored it. Didn’t the man realize how special it was for a baby Hutton’s age to utter the word Da for the first time?

  When the wind suddenly kicked up and the clouds rolled in, Nick looked at Jordan and warned, “It’s time to pack up and head for the house. Storm’s brewing. Looks like we might get rain.”

  They started packing up their gear, started heading up the trail toward the house. Nick carried a tired and dirty Hutton, while Jordan and Quake followed. Loaded down with the diaper bag, beach towels and blanket, Jordan had trouble climbing the hill. Nick suddenly turned back to her and said, “You okay?”

  “Remind me again why we have to bring so much stuff with us.”

  He chuckled. “I keep asking that myself.”

  As soon as they got to the back door, Nick kicked off his sandals before stepping inside. Jordan did the same before making her way into the mud room. Nick sat Hutton down on the floor and Jordan immediately hurried to strip off Hutton’s dirty clothes. “Time for a bath, dirty girl. Look at you, sweetie, you’ve got sand in your hair.”

  “Need help?”

  “Nah, I think I can handle this. Where’s that super soaker when you need it?” She picked up a dirty Hutton and headed for the bathroom. Nick laughed, as he heard her say, “I think we’ll need the garden hose to get you clean tonight, sweetie.”

  He picked up the dirty clothes from the floor and headed into the laundry room. After dropping their beach clothes into the washer and starting a load, he yelled after her, “If you think you won’t need me, I’ll head for the shower myself. Hutton isn’t the only one grubby.”

  It was true. The sand stuck like glue between Hutton’s toes, under her fingernails, in the creases of baby fat on both arms and on the backsides of her knees. Jordan was just as bad. So once she got to the bathroom, she decided to forego the bath. She’d be better off taking Hutton into the shower with her and scrubbing them both clean at the same time. Stripping out of her clothes, she turned on the water and the two of them stepped inside, making a game out of removing that extra layer of dirt.

  Later as they dried off, Jordan thought she heard pots and pans rattling in the kitchen, but she couldn’t be sure. Her stomach rumbled from hunger. If she was hungry, Hutton probably was too. She hurriedly dressed them both then headed into the kitchen to fix supper.

  At the door, she paused and stared at the man standing at the stove. While Jordan and Hutton had showered, Nick had fixed macaroni and cheese and put a gourmet frozen pizza on to bake. He was in the process of taking the pizza out of the oven when Jordan appeared carrying the baby on her hip.

  Her hair was still wet. She wore shorts and a T-shirt and the baby wore some purple romper thing. He stopped long enough to gape. The woman looked absolutely amazing.

  The man never ceased to astonish her, she thought, as she took one look at the plate of macaroni and cheese, already dished out and cooling on the table. She settled the baby in her chair, secured the tray in place and gave her a spoon, which Hutton promptly discarded and went to eating with her fingers.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance and made Hutton shriek. “Loud!”

  “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s just thunder.”

  Jordan gazed at the frozen pizza. It wasn’t what he’d fixed but rather that he’d taken the initiative to prepare dinner while she’d been busy with Hutton.

  “This looks good, Nick. Thanks.”

  “No problem. I would have called for delivery, but…”

  “There isn’t any,” she finished for him muffling a chuckle. She dug out paper plates from the pantry and began to set out napkins and utensils on the kitchen counter.

  “I’m pretty self-sufficient in the kitchen as long as it’s out of a box or the freezer. Want a beer?”

  Remembering they usually took turns with breakfast duty, she wondered why he was being so modest. His pancakes tasted better than hers. “Sure. I could throw a salad together to go with the pizza.”

  He reached in the fridge and took out two beers. With a nod of his head, he gestured to the bowls on the counter. “Got it covered.”

  “You’re pretty handy in the kitchen, Mr. Harris. You did all this while we showered.”

  “Give me a microwave and I’m in my element. And besides,
we guys don’t take as long in the shower as you women.” Nick found a pizza cutter, cut the pie into neat triangles, set it down on the counter between them.

  “Watch it,” she said jovially, “There were two of us and more dirt per square inch.” She took a pull on her beer. “This looks delicious. I think we all worked up quite an appetite this afternoon.” She picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite. “Ahh, nothing like pizza for good old comfort food.”

  Digging in, he smiled. “It isn’t as good as yours, but this brand is the best frozen pizza on the market. I’m surprised Murphy stocks it. It’ll do in a pinch when you’re in a hurry or starving.”

  At that moment, thunder rumbled again, this time louder. “Storm’s getting closer. I hope the roof holds. I did the best I could with the spotty patching job,” he assured her, as another wave of thunder roared overhead, this time shaking the house.

  Hutton shrieked again and put her hands over her ears, which spread cheesy stuff to her clean hair. “Loud!”

  Nick reassured Hutton, “thunder’s just clouds bumping together. It’ll be okay. It might just blow over or we might see some rain. The flowers need the rain.”

  “Rain,” Hutton repeated.

  As they ate their meal, the rain held off. But by the time they got an exhausted Hutton to bed and stepped out onto the front porch, fat drops of the wet stuff began to fall in earnest. They watched as lightning streaked across the night sky in the distance. “Looks like we’re in for a stormy night.”

  “Looks like.” They weren’t going to discuss the weather again, were they? Jordan wondered. She’d already made up her mind. “I have spice cake leftover from yesterday. Would you like a slice with some coffee?”

  “Sure. If we can have it in front of the fire.”

  She headed back inside and he followed. While she disappeared into the kitchen, Nick went to the living room to start a fire. The rain picked up as it beat down on the recently patched roof. “I hope like hell the patch job holds.”

 

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