“I know. I just worry that you’ll - never mind.”
She’d been too shy, too uncertain as yet of their fledgling relationship, to admit that what worried her the most about their impending separation was Jordan’s ability to remain faithful to her. By his own admission, he’d been the worst sort of player for the better part of two decades, sleeping with a whole parade of different women but never giving any of them a second thought afterwards. And he liked sex - a lot - craved it even, and she’d been having real serious doubts that a man like him could actually remain celibate for more than a few days, much less a few weeks.
“Hey, none of that,” he’d chided, tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. “Just tell me, Aubrey. I’m not going to get on that plane until you do.”
She’d hesitated, not wanting to sound jealous or insecure or like she was making demands of him that might or might not be her right to do at this point. “It’s not important,” she’d insisted. “Just me being silly, I think.”
“You’re the least silly person I’ve ever met,” Jordan had retorted. “And I’ve got this feeling I know exactly what you’re worried about, darlin’. Deny it if you want, but I think what’s bothering you is whether or not I’m going to resort to my manwhore ways while we’re apart. And the answer to that question - even if you haven’t actually asked is - is a big fat no.”
Aubrey had grinned then, absolutely thrilled with his answer to her unasked question. “Really? I mean, considering what you’ve told me about your, er, past exploits, it’s a little hard to believe that you could just change your ways so quickly.”
“That was all before I met you, baby,” he’d murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re one in a million, Aubrey, and any other woman would have an impossible task comparing to you. It’s like having Dom Perignon champagne for the first time in your life, and then having to settle for a cheapo brand like Andre. So, no. I won’t be dragging out my little black book and start dialing up long forgotten numbers. Or trolling singles bars with my buddies. I swear to you right now that I’ll be faithful, that I won’t even flirt with another woman.”
She’d rolled her eyes at his last declaration. “Now that part I may not hold you to. After all, I think flirting is like second nature to you by now, Jordan, something you don’t even think about. But make sure it doesn’t go beyond a little harmless flirting, hmm?”
He’d laughed, squeezing her so tight she’d given a little squawk of alarm. “I promise. But that goes both ways, you know. Promise me now that you won’t fall for any hunky surfer dudes, whether they have sexy accents or not. And that you definitely won’t let them crash on your sofa.”
“Promise. But I do love your accent, you know. At least when it surfaces with certain words.”
It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him that his accent wasn’t the only part of him that she loved, but she’d thought better of it. It was, after all, way too soon in their relationship to talk about feelings and emotions, especially with a man as gun-shy about commitments as Jordan Reeves.
He’d kissed her good-bye after that, a kiss that went on so long bystanders actually began clapping for them, and she had finally given him a little push towards the security line. He’d given her one of those naughty grins, waving as he reluctantly got in line.
That had been nearly six weeks ago, and she was now literally counting the hours until she would see him again. Jordan had been more than true to his word about keeping in touch with her, texting her multiple times each day, sending her emails with links to all of the places he planned to take her when she arrived in San Francisco, and calling or Skyping her at least once a day. A number of those phone calls or video chats had taken place when he’d been at the hospital, rather impatiently waiting for one of his patients to dilate enough for her baby to be delivered. She’d seen him for the first time in his dark blue scrubs, and thought that the nurses who’d given him the nickname of Doctor Dreamboat had hit the nail on the head.
But talking to him on the phone, or getting semi-dirty texts from him on an hourly basis just wasn’t a substitute for the real thing, and she was secretly glad her mother hadn’t encouraged her to remain in San Diego any longer than originally planned. Aubrey loved her family more than she could properly express, had loved spending time with them these past two weeks, and as always felt a little sad at the prospect of leaving her longtime home again. But then, there had never been someone like Jordan waiting for her, waiting to show her the sights and take her out to fabulous dinners and the theater, and especially waiting to sleep beside her every night.
Even though they had only been together two short but glorious weeks, Aubrey missed him something awful. She had never considered herself an especially sexual person, had never felt desperate to have a boyfriend or lover in her life, and had quite frankly adopted something of a take it or leave it attitude when it came to sex.
But that, of course, was before Jordan Reeves had talked his way into her life, and managed to rock her world like nothing she’d ever imagined before. And while he had certainly dazzled her with his sophistication and charm and suaveness, the bedroom was really where he had managed to enthrall her. He’d unleashed a passion within her that she’d never known she was capable of feeling, had tempted and teased and tantalized her, turning her into a sensual, carnal creature who truly craved physical intimacy for the first time in her life. He had, she realized with a dreamy smile, turned her into a woman.
Aubrey spent the remainder of the afternoon going through the clothes she’d been storing in her old bedroom, setting aside the items she wanted to take to San Francisco with her while tossing some others in a pile for charity. She would need to go shopping for a few things, she noted, given that the bulk of her wardrobe these last eighteen months had consisted of shorts, tank tops, sundresses, and bikinis. Plus, San Francisco was a more sophisticated city than either Maui or San Diego, and some of the restaurants and other places Jordan wanted to take her to looked awfully upscale. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass him if they ran into his friends or patients by dressing inappropriately. And since there was no way she was going to permit him to buy her any more stuff, especially since she was already going to be mooching off of him, she needed to get by the mall pronto to make some additions to her wardrobe.
Fortunately, Lorena had been able to rearrange a few lectures and meetings at the university so that she could spend more time with her daughter, precious time that Aubrey had cherished. And Aubrey knew that her mother would love nothing better than to spend several hours going shopping and having lunch together tomorrow, maybe even getting a mani-pedi. After patiently enduring Aubrey’s tomboy phase, one that had lasted well into high school, Lorena had been delighted when her daughter had finally begun to take an interest in clothes, makeup, and dating, and she still adored doing “girly” things together.
She was trying to decide if she really needed to pack three pairs of jeans for the trip, or get by with just two when her phone pinged, signaling an incoming text. She knew it was from Jordan even before glancing at the screen, and wondered what naughty message he had dreamed up now.
Aubrey laughed out loud at the two selfies he’d attached to the message, in which he wore nothing but a pair of close-fitting briefs.
What one do you prefer - black or navy? I want to be wearing your favorite color when I pick you up at the airport. Under my clothes, that is.
She studied the two attached photos, admiring his taut, chiseled abs and lean hips, and especially the unmistakable bulge at his crotch. Grinning wickedly, she quickly tapped out a reply.
Actually, you might as well go commando. One less article of clothing I’ll have to tear off your body once we get to your place.
Aubrey just hoped he didn’t decide to send her a third selfie, this one after following her advice and going au naturel.
***
Jordan paced anxiously around the arrivals area at San Franc
isco International Airport, wondering yet again why he’d stupidly felt the need to be here a full half hour before Aubrey’s flight from San Diego was due in. But then, he’d been nervously anticipating this moment ever since he’d left Maui several weeks ago, not quite counting the days until he could see her again but pretty darned close. And he had spent nearly every single day since their separation getting ready for this exact moment - seeing the woman he’d become damned near obsessed with for the first time in weeks, and, more importantly, welcoming her into his home for what he hoped was an extended length of time.
He’d probably gone completely overboard, he acknowledged to himself sheepishly. And if Finn or Max ever learned how much trouble he’d gone to in making things ready for Aubrey’s arrival - well, his two friends would have deemed him certifiably insane. But Jordan had justified some of the things he’d done as chores and projects that he had been putting off for months now, and having a houseguest had simply been motivation to finally stop procrastinating and take action.
He’d had the entire condo freshly painted, had the carpets and hardwood floors thoroughly cleaned, and replaced the drapes in the living room. In the master bedroom he’d gone one step beyond buying new sheets, pillows, and a duvet and had purchased a brand new mattress as well. It had been a rare occasion when he’d actually had a woman sleep over, but there had been enough of those occurrences over the years for him to have wanted everything fresh and unused for Aubrey.
In just the past two days, he’d gone grocery shopping and bought a wide variety of food and drinks that he knew she’d like, and instructed his regular housekeeper to take extra pains with her weekly cleaning. He’d personally selected several guidebooks and maps of San Francisco for Aubrey’s use, had an extra key made for her, and made sure to stock a variety of toiletries she would need. And even though she was sure to protest, he hadn’t been able to resist buying her a few new outfits, things she could wear to some of the posher restaurants and events he planned to take her to. Not that he could care less what she wore, knowing that she’d look drop dead gorgeous in anything. But the last thing he wanted was for Aubrey to feel uncomfortable or out of place, and the private club he belonged to, for instance, was a great deal fancier than the Surf’s Up cantina back in Maui. It would be interesting, though, to observe her reaction when she discovered the items he’d selected for her hanging in his closet, and he had been mentally preparing himself for the argument that was sure to ensue.
‘Good thing that I’m bringing her these,’ thought Jordan wryly, glancing at the bouquet of yellow roses he was carrying. ‘Maybe the flowers will help soften her up a little.’
And it was also a very, very good thing that none of his friends were in the vicinity to witness his reunion with Aubrey. He’d already been subjected to Finn’s scorn and Max’s skepticism when he had told them about the very enjoyable two weeks he’d spent with her in Maui - leaving out the more personal and intimate details, of course. And when they had learned that she was actually going to be staying with him for an indefinite amount of time, living with him, they had both stared as though he’d suddenly sprouted three heads.
“You’re shitting us, right?” had been Finn’s initial reaction. “I mean, it’s past April Fool’s Day but this is just some sort of sick joke on your part, isn’t it?”
Jordan had grinned, shaking his head firmly in denial. “No joke. No bullshit. I met a girl, fell hard for her, spent every day of my vacation with her, and now she’s agreed to stay with me for awhile. And here’s the real unbelievable part - since I flew home from Maui, there haven’t been any other women. No dates, no flirting, and definitely no fucking.”
Finn had started choking on the overly generous bite of tri-tip sandwich he’d been scarfing down, compelling Jordan to perform the Heimlich maneuver on him. It had taken a few minutes of recovery, and a full glass of water, before Finn had been able to speak again.
“Give a dude some warning next time when you spring a shocker like that on him, okay?” Finn had croaked. “Jesus, it’s hard enough to believe you invited this chick to live with you. And now you expect us to believe that you’ve been living like a fucking monk for the last few weeks? You - the one guy in all of San Francisco who might have been able to challenge me for my title of Manwhore of the Decade?”
Max had merely arched his brow at Finn and taken a sip of his whiskey. “Actually, I don’t think monks engage in any sort of sexual activity, Finn. That’s why they’re called monks.”
In reply, Finn had deftly flipped him the bird, then refocused his attention on Jordan. “I still say you’re punking us, dude. Did you drink some special water in Hawaii that’s giving you hallucinations or something? Or maybe you had some near-death experience you haven’t told us about that’s made you think you need to mend your slutty ways. Or else you really have been body snatched, replaced with the wussy version of yourself.”
Jordan had tossed the maraschino cherry from the Mai Tai he’d ordered at Finn, plunking him square in the forehead. “Asshole,” he’d declared, though it had been with a grin on his face. “And sorry about the choking bit earlier. Lucky for you there’s a licensed physician nearby.”
Finn had snorted derisively. “Yeah, a physician whose specialties are delivering screaming babies, and checking out women’s boobs and pussies. Besides, anyone can learn the Heimlich maneuver. They teach that stuff in CPR classes. I got forced to take a few of those when I was playing football.”
Max had continued to calmly sip his drink. “Yes, but do you remember anything you learned in those classes - anything at all?”
Finn had grinned wickedly. “Well, I’ve practiced that mouth to mouth resuscitation bit on women a few times, but not because they were having trouble breathing.”
“Sick, Finley. Really sick,” Jordan had replied in disgust.
“So when do we get to meet your new roommate, Jordan?” Max had drawled casually. “For that matter, we haven’t even seen her picture yet, have we? Knowing you, I’m just going to assume that’s not because she isn’t attractive.”
“Aubrey is a fucking knockout,” Jordan had retorted. “The two of you are going to be green with envy when you finally meet her. And she’s not my roommate,” he’d added defensively. “She’s just my houseguest for a few weeks, until she gets a new job, which will probably end up being in some resort area like Florida or the Caribbean.”
Finn held out his hand, palm out. “So let’s see her, man. I assume you have pictures, lots of them. Preferably nude ones.”
“Nope. Not happening,” Jordan had declared firmly, glad that he had tucked his cell phone securely away in an inside jacket pocket. “When I’m ready to introduce her to you, I’ll let you know. Until then, forget about it. And even if any nude photos of her exist, there’s no way in hell I’ll show them to anyone, especially you two horny bastards.”
Max gave a careless shrug. “Don’t lump me in with Finn. Frankly, I’ve always preferred the real thing as opposed to a photograph. Unlike Finn, who gets excited looking at the cover of a cooking magazine.”
Finn scowled. “Screw off, you uptight bastard. Which is probably why you’re so uptight, Max - you haven’t actually screwed anyone for ages. And for your information the woman on the cover of the cooking magazine is incredibly hot - which is why her cable TV show is so popular, and not because the food she cooks up looks particularly good. Now, where were we? Oh, yeah, trying to get Doctor Lovejoy here to cough up photos of his new roommate - oh, excuse me - his houseguest. Come on, Jordan. We’ve always shared photos of our conquests before. What’s so different about this one?”
“She just is. I can’t explain it exactly. Actually,” Jordan had amended, “I can explain. I just don’t want to yet. Suffice it to say that I’m pretty crazy about this girl, and I don’t ever remember saying that about any other woman in my life. So - back off, guys, okay? And, yes, I know I’ve overshared all the details of my love life for the last twen
ty years - correction, make that my sex life since love has never figured into it. But this is different, and I’m already scared shitless than I’m going to mess everything up big time. I don’t need Aubrey learning that I showed off semi-nude photos of her to my two friends - one of whom is the biggest horndog ever born - before they met her in person.”
Finn had grinned lecherously. “Ah, but you do admit such photos actually exist. Guess Max and I will just have to pin you down and take your phone from you by force.”
“I admit nothing about the existence of such photos. As for stealing my phone - well, you can certainly try,” Jordan had replied lazily. “But you’ll never, ever figure out the password to get into my phone. I change it every week, just to make sure there’s never a repeat of that time Finn hacked all of my contacts and emailed them nude photos of me. Well, they were of me above the neck at least. He superimposed my head onto the body of some skinny, pathetic loser with a two inch dick.”
Finn had laughed uproariously at the memory, and even the normally uptight Max had chuckled a bit. Jordan had calmly finished his drink, and motioned a waiter over so they could order another round. But he’d had one final word of warning for his not-so-well-meaning friends.
“Back off,” he’d cautioned irritably. “Give Aubrey and me some space for awhile. I don’t need you two nosy bastards to come snooping around and sharing past history with her. And I sure as hell don’t need you to fuck this up for me. Especially since I’m more than capable of doing that all on my own.”
And while all of that had been true, the real reason Jordan was so adamant about his two closest friends not meeting Aubrey just yet - or even seeing a picture of her - was because of her startling resemblance to Tessa. It would be obvious with just a glance, and there was no way he could trust those two - especially that troublemaker Finn - to be discrete and keep their big mouths shut. He was going to have to find a way to deal with the issue, and would have to do some very careful maneuvering to make damned sure that he and Aubrey didn’t run into the Gregsons any time soon. Ian in particular would not be pleased to see Jordan in the company of a woman who looked so much like his own wife, and Jordan would have some serious explaining to do - especially to Aubrey.
The Girl of His Dreams (Bachelor Book 1) Page 16