Tempting Tanya (NSFW Book 3)

by C. C. Wood

Unable to resist the allure of sleep, I let myself go and drifted away into sweet dreams.

  Chapter Twelve

  After my successful seduction (at least that’s what I was calling it), things between us changed enormously, but for the better.

  We still spent nearly every evening together, but we didn’t always go out. More often than not, he would come to my townhouse or I would go to his place and we would cook together or order in. We watched television or movies, sometimes working together if we were both swamped, or we would sit in companionable silence as we read. It was all perfectly ordinary but exactly what I always wanted to have with Jordan.

  In fact, I was having the time of my life.

  Jordan also wasted no time in following through on his suggestion that he and I have brunch with my father and his aunt. Within two weeks, he’d made the arrangements and reservations.

  While I was thrilled that he wanted to introduce me to his beloved aunt, his only living relative, I was also nervous. Not just nervous, terrified.

  I hadn’t been at this point in a relationship with a man in nearly ten years, not since law school. I was out of practice and I had no idea what to wear. Nothing in my closet seemed appropriate. I didn’t want to wear one of my work skirts or slacks because they seemed too professional for a Sunday brunch and I didn’t want to wear jeans because they seemed too casual for such an important meeting. I wanted to make a fantastic first impression without appearing as though I were trying too hard.

  The Friday before The Big Brunch, I arranged to meet Chelsea, Grier, and Yancy for lunch. Lucy surprised us all by showing up as well. I had already decided to take the rest of the afternoon off and go shopping for the perfect brunch outfit.

  I met the girls in the lobby and we headed out to walk to our favorite Chinese restaurant a few blocks away.

  As we walked, Lucy fell in step beside me. “So you’re meeting his aunt this weekend, right?” she asked.

  Suddenly her surprise appearance made sense. “Yes.”

  “And your dad’s coming?”

  “Yes,” I replied, glancing at her speculatively. “Is that why you came today?”

  Ignoring my question, she asked, “Have you picked out your outfit yet?”

  I shook my head. “I’m going shopping after lunch.”

  Lucy beamed at me, hooking her arm through mine. “Awesome! I have the afternoon free so I’ll go with you. I need to do a little shopping anyway. Chris wants to go somewhere tropical for a few days at the end of the month and I have nothing to wear.”

  “Did someone say shopping?” Chelsea interrupted.

  “Tanya and I are going shopping after lunch,” Lucy explained. “You should go with us!”

  Chelsea laughed. “Like my slave driver boss would give me the afternoon off with no notice.”

  “Well, I do have a little influence with him,” Lucy stated. “I bet I can talk him into it.”

  With that, she dug her phone out of her bag and called Chris, taking a few steps ahead of us for privacy. I didn’t want to hear whatever she had to promise him to get Chelsea out of work on a Friday afternoon.

  “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” Chelsea asked. “About this brunch, I mean.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only because I know you. Is there a specific reason you’re nervous? Other than it’s a big step?”

  I glanced at her. “I am nervous about meeting his aunt, but…” I trailed off, unsure how to explain my concerns.

  “But what?” Yancy prompted from the other side of Chelsea.

  I hadn’t realized that Yancy had joined in our conversation. I glanced at her and shrugged. “It just seems so quick. We’ve only been dating a few weeks.”

  At my statement, Chelsea began laughing. “Quick? You dated the man for months two years ago. How is that quick?”

  “We weren’t dating then,” I argued.

  It was Yancy’s turn to laugh. “Tanya, you said he liked to have dinner with you and stayed with you the nights you were together. That sounds like dating to me.”

  “We were more like friends with benefits,” I continued. “We liked each other but it wasn’t serious.”

  Yancy cast a knowing look in my direction. “If you say so.”

  Before I could ask her what she meant, Lucy rejoined us. “Chelsea, you have the rest of the day off with your boss’ thanks,” she stated.

  Chelsea stared at her in disbelief. “How in the hell did you manage that?”

  “You don’t want to know.” Lucy gave her a pointed look that clearly declared that whatever she’d promised Chris was naughty and better discussed behind closed doors. Or never.

  “You’re right,” Chelsea agreed, clapping her hands. “I don’t want to know.” Then she turned toward Yancy. “Any chance you can take the afternoon off and join us?”

  Yancy frowned. “There’s no way. Charles and I have a project due next week and a meeting with our supervisor after lunch.”

  “Bummer,” Chelsea muttered.

  “I’ll join in next time,” Yancy assured her. She glanced sideways at Chelsea. “And even if you don’t want to know what Lucy promised Chris to get you the afternoon off, I do, so cover your ears.”

  “Actually, I think what he wants is more fun for me than it is for him, so it isn’t much of a hardship,” Lucy replied.

  “Oh, do tell?” I asked, laughing at the pained expression on Chelsea’s face.

  “Well, first, I—”

  “Oh my God, I don’t need to hear this about my boss!” Chelsea cried, clapping her hands over her ears. “It was bad enough when I started working for him after you overshared during girls’ night out, Lucy. I don’t need to know what y’all do after he leaves the office.”

  Lucy laughed. “Okay, okay, no more talk of play time with Chris. I don’t want Chelsea to be uncomfortable.”

  “Spoilsport,” Yancy teased Chelsea.

  “I don’t need to know those kinds of things about my boss.”

  “So, Chelsea, how are things going with Landen?” Lucy asked, changing the subject. “Chris came home in a grumpy mood a few days ago, mumbling something about pig-headed assistants and ungrateful friends who expect favors.”

  Chelsea grinned at her, looking both wicked and utterly unrepentant. “I may have explained to Mr. Weber that he needed to organize his files before delivering them to us. He implied that it was my job and I explained that I was Mr. Barden’s assistant, not his and that if he wanted someone to organize his paperwork, then he needed to hire them.”

  Lucy laughed. “I bet that went over well. As I remember, Landen Weber is even crankier than Chris.”

  “I told him that he was more than welcome to pay me an additional salary if he wanted me to do that sort of work for him,” Chelsea replied with a shrug.

  “I think it’s awesome that you get away with stuff like this,” Lucy said. “I didn’t take a lot of crap from Chris, but you take it to a whole different level.”

  “What you failed to see when you worked for him is that Chris needs you more than you need him. He will put up with a lot of crap in order to keep a decent assistant, especially since he’s had so many horrible ones in the past,” Chelsea explained.

  Lucy shot her a disbelieving look.

  “Okay, so that’s not exactly the case,” Chelsea conceded with a laugh. “But I had you going there for a minute, didn’t I?”

  Rolling her eyes, Lucy replied, “No way.” She shook her head as we walked into the restaurant. “Now, let’s go eat and then go shopping. Tanya has an outfit to buy and I have to figure out what I should wear on my tropical getaway.”

  “And I have an afternoon to waste thanks to my best friend, a.k.a my boss’ fiancée,” Chelsea chimed in. “It’s good to know people.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I smoothed down the skirt of the knit wrap dress that Lucy and Chelsea helped me pick out on our shopping trip. The material was so soft that I’d bought two sweaters of the same fabr
ic, even though it was outrageously expensive. The dark teal color was just as rich and elegant as the material and it looked fantastic against my pale skin and auburn hair.

  It wasn’t something I would have chosen off the rack for myself, but Lucy and Chelsea urged me to try it on and I was glad.

  While it was casual enough for brunch, especially since I paired it with a pair of light gray knee high boots with a low heel, I could dress it up with pumps and jewelry and wear it to work. Because of that, I allowed Lucy and Chelsea to talk me into buying it.

  I could hear Jordan moving around in the bathroom, shaving and brushing his teeth, and I knew he would be ready to leave soon. Quickly, I put the finishing touches on my make-up and put on my perfume.

  When I heard Jordan enter the bedroom, I turned and felt my knees go weak. He wore a pair of slate gray slacks with a dark blue shirt that made his eyes stand out. He was so handsome that I could barely stand to look at him.

  It seemed I wasn’t the only one making an effort to look my best.

  “You look very handsome,” I told him.

  Jordan stood in the doorway, unmoving.

  “Jordan?” I prompted. “Everything okay?”

  “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured. “Absolutely stunning.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, my body heating beneath his avid gaze.

  “Now, I’m not going to kiss you because we won’t make the brunch if I do.” I smiled at his admission. I liked that I affected him as much as he affected me. “I’ll start the car while you finish up and we’ll leave when you’re ready.”

  I watched him leave the room, my smile growing wider. The distant, reserved Jordan I’d known in the past seemed to melt away with each passing day. At least when it was the two of us.

  At work, he was still unflappable, aloof, and intimidating. The contrast between his professional facade and the man he revealed behind closed doors was incredibly sexy. I knew without a doubt that he showed me a side of him very few people got to see.

  I double checked my make-up and quickly moved the contents of my purse into another smaller bag. After one last glance in the mirror, I was ready to go.

  When I emerged from the hall, I found Jordan waiting by the front door, wearing his coat and holding mine draped over his arm. His eyes were on me as I turned the corner and he smiled as I approached him. Then he held out my coat, helping me into it.

  The old-fashioned gesture made my heart flutter in my chest. I never thought of myself as the type of woman who would enjoy a man helping me with my coat or pulling my chair out at the table, but I did. Every time Jordan did something like that for me, it made me feel cherished and special.

  It never bothered me when other men didn’t open doors for me or help me in and out of the car. I was perfectly capable of doing those things for myself.

  But when Jordan made the effort, it never made me feel as though he thought of me as less. It seemed like second nature to him—an extension of his view of me. He cared for me, respected me, and demonstrated it in a tangible way.

  I may not have needed Jordan to perform those acts, but he wanted to. For that reason alone, I let myself enjoy his old-fashioned manners.

  My nerves intensified as Jordan drove to the restaurant. I hadn’t been this nervous for a meal in my life. I realized I was fidgeting and forced myself to stop. There were people in the office that called me the Snow Queen because they thought I was cold and detached. God, what a laugh they would have right now if they knew how anxious I truly was.

  Jordan reached over and took my left hand, pulling it over the console to rest in on his thigh. Immediately, the nerves buzzing beneath my skin calmed, as if his very touch soothed them.

  I wasn’t worried about what my father would think of Jordan because I knew he would like him. Even if Jordan kept his guard of cool reserve in place, my dad would probably still approve because it was clear by his position in the firm that he was a hard worker and talented attorney. What would seal the deal was the fact that Jordan would hold the door, pull out my chair, and help me with my coat. Dad might have raised me to be an independent woman, but he still believed good manners were important and, as far as my father was concerned, those behaviors were just that.

  It didn’t surprise me that Jordan chose a restaurant renowned for their delicious brunch or that offered valet parking. Though he never said it aloud, I knew he wanted to make a good impression with my dad and that meant a lot to me. The fact that he made an effort said more than any words ever could.

  My father was already waiting at the bar, a Bloody Mary in hand, when we entered. He smiled and came toward us when he saw me.

  “You look beautiful, Tanya,” he said, giving me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Thanks, Dad. I would like to introduce you to Jordan Hawke. Jordan, this is my father, Will Blake.”

  As they shook hands, Jordan stated, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blake.”

  My dad’s grin widened and I wondered if he’d had more than one Bloody Mary already. He looked entirely too pleased with himself, which made me nervous. “Call me Will.”

  Before either of them could continue, a blonde woman approached us. She wore a pair of stylish black pants, low-heeled boots, and a beautiful wool coat tightly belted at her trim waist.

  “Good morning, Jordan,” she greeted him with a smile. “Sorry, I’m late.”

  I realized then that this attractive, fit woman was Jordan’s aunt and she didn’t look a day over forty-five, much less fifty-four.

  “Good morning, Joyce. Let me introduce you to Tanya Blake and her father, Will Blake.”

  She smiled warmly at me and I saw that her sparkling eyes were the same shade of blue as Jordan’s. When I held out my hand, she took it and pulled me closer to kiss my cheek. “Wonderful to meet you, Tanya Blake. You’re exactly as Jordan described you.”

  “Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you as well. Jordan has told me quite a bit about you.”

  “Don’t believe it all, dear. He tends to exaggerate.”

  I heard Jordan chuckle behind her and felt the last of my nerves melt away. Because of Jordan’s tendency to remain aloof and cool with people, I expected Joyce to have a similar demeanor. An expectation that I was thrilled she didn’t meet.

  Instead, Joyce Hawke seemed warm and friendly.

  She released me and held her hand out to my father. “A pleasure to meet you as well, Will.”

  I watched as my father took her hand, my eyes narrowing slightly. Suddenly, he looked…different. Rather than shaking her hand, Dad held it as he looked down at her. I understood then that my father was flirting with Jordan’s aunt. Right in front of me.

  The hostess came over to let us know our table was ready, thereby saving me from what would surely be a disaster. I glanced over at Jordan with wide eyes as my father and Joyce walked ahead of us toward the table.

  He outright laughed at the expression on my face, his arm curving around my waist. Leaning in, he whispered in my ear, “I think your father is smitten.”

  “I noticed,” I murmured back. “How likely is it that he’ll offend your aunt with his flirting?”

  Jordan continued to chuckle in my ear. “Oh, I’m more worried about your father than Joyce. She’s a handful.”

  I grinned at him, our faces a few inches apart. “He’s used to that. He had two independent, stubborn daughters.”

  “Then this will definitely be an interesting meal.”

  We came to a stop by the table and Jordan gave me a light kiss on the lips before pulling out a chair for me. When I settled in the seat, I looked over to find Joyce smiling at me with a soft expression on her face. My father stood behind her, clearly having helped her with her seat as well. Jordan took the chair to my right and my father sat across from me.

  Joyce leaned over, placing her hand over mine. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Confused, I also leaned toward her. “I’m sorry?”

  She squeezed my
hand. “He so rarely laughs and almost never in public. Thank you.”

  My head felt light as I nodded at her and straightened in my chair. I knew Jordan wasn’t an overly emotive man at work or with strangers, but I hadn’t known that he was the same with his family.

  I glanced at him to find him smiling at my father as they talked. I wondered if perhaps the change I was seeing in him wasn’t just because we were getting to know each other, but something more.

  My anxiety faded away completely as the meal progressed. After a mimosa and entertaining conversation with Joyce, it was impossible not to relax. The food was delicious and my father seemed to enjoy himself as well.

  After we ate, my father tried to pay the check, but Jordan insisted he should take care of it since he had issued the invitation. To my surprise, my father didn’t argue any further.

  Instead, he said, “Tanya and I meet for dinner on Thursdays. Why don’t you join us this week?”

  I was equally shocked and pleased by his invitation to Jordan. The fact that he asked him to Thursday dinner meant that he honestly liked him, but it took me by surprise because Thursday dinners were a family tradition. While Tessa and I were in college, boyfriends were not allowed at Thursday dinner.

  “I will definitely be there,” Jordan replied, earning another approving nod from my father.

  As we gathered our things and walked out of the restaurant, Joyce fell into step beside me, her cell phone in her hand.

  “Give me your number, dear, and I’ll call or text you next week. We can meet for lunch or a drink when you’re free.”

  Pleased, I recited my number to her. She typed it in and said, “I’m going to text you so you have mine.”

  A few seconds later, my phone chimed in my bag.

  “There. Now we can keep in touch,” she stated, tucking her cell back into her purse. She turned to me and gave me a firm hug. “It really was fantastic meeting you, Tanya. You’re exactly the kind of woman I hoped my boy would meet someday.”

  I hugged her back, relieved that she seemed to like me. “I’m glad. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you since Jordan told me about the summer he moved to Texas.”