Tempting Tanya (NSFW Book 3)

by C. C. Wood

  She was right. I should have. I honestly hadn’t thought of it when we were making plans for the girls to come to dinner. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I’ve never done this before so it didn’t occur to me.”

  “Done what?”

  “Introduced the man I’m in love with to my friends.”

  Her annoyed expression faded instantly and she patted my knee. “You’re right. You haven’t. You were probably more worried we wouldn’t like him.”

  I shook my head. “No, I wasn’t worried about that. I was more concerned you’d all run him off with your level of crazy.”

  “Hey!”

  “Well, it’s true.”

  She sipped her wine and shrugged. “Okay, so we’re a little wild, but I promise you we would never purposely do something like that.” She paused. “Unless he was a complete asshole. Then all bets are off.”

  I laughed. “You’re horrible.”

  “No, I’m a good friend,” she corrected before taking a sip of her wine.

  The doorbell rang again, announcing the arrival of another one of my friends.

  “I’ll get it,” Lucy offered. “I’ll give them a heads up not to ask questions about Jordan’s parents.”

  “Thank you. I don’t think he minds too much, but I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable.”

  “No problem.”

  One by one, my friends arrived and I got busy serving wine and putting out the cheese tray I’d purchased earlier that day.

  When Jordan joined us in the living room, my friends fell silent, everyone but Lucy staring at him. Quickly I introduced everyone.

  “Jordan, these are my friends Yancy Stevens, Grier Carter, and Chelsea Archer. Girls, this is Jordan Hawke.”

  They came forward to shake his hand.

  “Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing,” Yancy stated.

  Grier was next. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You’re really hot,” Chelsea announced as she shook his hand.

  This time I couldn’t contain my eye roll. Jordan just laughed.

  “Thank you, Chelsea.”

  I shot her a dark look as she walked back to her seat on the sofa.

  “What?” she asked defensively.

  “You know what you did,” I answered.

  She shrugged. “He is hot and he’s probably looked in the mirror enough to know it.”

  “Stop saying he’s hot!”

  “Why? It’s the truth.”

  Lucy interrupted our juvenile argument before it could get out of hand.

  “Jordan, I’m putting together a series of portraits for my next show and I would love it if you would sit for me.”

  “See, even Lucy wants to paint him like one of her French girls,” Chelsea pointed out.

  Jordan, as always, adapted to the conversation without any outward sign of discomfort or indication that he thought my friends were batshit crazy. “I didn’t realize you were a painter, Lucy,” he commented.

  “I’m not,” she replied. “I’m a photographer. Chelsea was just being obnoxious.”

  Rather than getting offended, Chelsea grinned, lifting her glass toward Lucy, and I realized then that she was testing Jordan’s mettle. I leaned in closer to her and whispered, “Take it down a notch. Or ten, please.”

  She glanced over at me, saw my face, and sighed softly. “Fine.”

  “He’s a wonderful man. I promise.”

  Her expression softened. “Okay.”

  “Does anyone else need more wine?” I asked as I got to my feet. After a chorus of affirmative answers, I said, “I’ll open another bottle.”

  Jordan followed me into the kitchen after announcing he needed to check on the meal. I turned to him as soon as we were out of earshot of the other ladies.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he stated before I could speak.

  “But—”

  “Your friends are amusing and meant no harm.”

  “Still—”

  He kissed me. “Don’t worry about it. I’m having a good time.”

  “Chelsea’s right. You are hot,” I muttered, my brain scrambled by his kiss.

  Jordan threw back his head and laughed.

  As he excelled in all things, Jordan was a fantastic cook. The food was delicious and he charmed my friends with ease.

  “Be honest, you ordered this from a restaurant, didn’t you?” Chelsea asked as we ate.

  I nearly choked on the bite of Cornish game hen I’d just taken.

  Jordan merely smiled and shook his head. “I promise you I made all of this myself.”

  “You had to,” Lucy agreed. “Tanya burns water.”

  “Ha, ha, ha,” I shot back drily.

  Jordan chuckled. “My aunt insisted that a man should know how to cook, clean, and do laundry.”

  Chelsea raised her glass to him in a mock toast. “I like her already.”

  The rest of the girls laughed.

  “Tell us about how you met Tanya,” Grier piped up.

  “Yeah, she won’t give us details,” Yancy stated.

  Jordan glanced at me, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “She hasn’t?”

  I shrugged and picked up my wineglass. “I didn’t realize you were my dream man when I met you.”

  “Awww.” I shot Yancy a look, which she ignored. “Well, tell us what you thought when you met her,” she encouraged Jordan.

  Jordan’s eyes met mine. “I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

  My chest ached at his words.

  “She walked into the room and I knew that I had to learn everything I could about her. When I got to know here better, I knew that Tanya was everything I could ever want in a partner.”

  None of us spoke and I felt the prickle of tears in the back of my eyes. I realized that the detached, cool facade he usually wore was completely absent. He wasn’t hiding anything.

  I couldn’t respond to his words because I was too busy holding back tears. I was grateful when Lucy made some comment that had everyone laughing. I couldn’t hear her over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.

  The emotionally charged moment disappeared and I was finally able to look away from Jordan. When I did, my eyes met Grier’s. She smiled at me, but that smile said it all.

  Dinner continued without a hitch. Even when Chelsea was at her most blunt or Lucy and Yancy bickered good-naturedly. He smiled easily and laughed readily.

  By the end of the meal, my friends were as fascinated by him as I was. We insisted on clearing the table since he cooked and Chelsea sidled up to me in the kitchen as I rinsed plates and put them in the dishwasher.

  “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d kidnap him and keep him for myself,” she stated. “He’s amazing.” She ran her finger through the gravy left on her plate. “And he’s an awesome cook. Just for that alone, I’m tempted to break the girl code and go after your man.”

  I laughed, knowing she was teasing me. “You’ll find your own amazing man someday. Probably when you least expect it.”

  Chelsea scoffed. “I scare all the decent ones away. I’m too blunt and I’m beginning to think my mother was right when she said men don’t like that.”

  “The right man will,” I replied.

  “Oh my God, will you stop with this optimistic stuff? It’s going to make me sick and ruin this happy food glow I have going on.”

  “Okay, okay,” I relented. “But I’m right, you know.”

  “Right about what?” Lucy asked.

  “That you should let us choose our own bridesmaid’s dresses for the wedding,” Chelsea replied before I could speak.

  As Chelsea and Lucy argued about bridesmaid dresses, I finished loading the dishwasher. As I dried my hands, Jordan came into the kitchen and over to me.

  “I have some work to do. Do you mind if I use your office?”

  I shook my head, knowing that he wanted to give me time alone with my friends. “Go ahead.”

  Everyone thanked him for a lovely
meal and watched as he disappeared down the hall and into the second bedroom I used as my home office.

  As soon as the door shut behind him, they turned to me.

  “He’s a keeper,” Yancy announced.

  “I agree,” stated Lucy. “I’m half in love with him myself.”

  Grier, who’d been quieter than usual all night, spoke up. “He’s completely and irrevocably in love with you, Tanya.”

  At her words, my throat tightened with emotion. “He tells me that all the time.”

  All my friends looked at me as though they were about to swoon and my eyes grew teary.

  “Do not make me cry,” I demanded. “Let’s change the subject.”

  “I brought Cards Against Humanity,” Chelsea announced. When everyone turned to look at her, she shrugged. “What? Tanya said to change the subject.”

  I blinked the last of the tears from my eyes. “That sounds perfect.”

  As everyone left the kitchen and headed toward the living room, Chelsea winked at me. “There’s nothing like a completely obnoxious, politically incorrect game to lighten the mood.”

  By the end of the night, I was crying again, but this time from laughter.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next morning, the incessant ringing of my cell phone woke me up. I groaned as the noise pierced my skull like an ice pick.

  “Hello?” I mumbled into it without opening my eyes. I could barely hear the person on the other end, their voice garbled. “I can’t hear you. Speak up.”

  When I still couldn’t understand them, I pulled the phone away to look at the screen and realized I was holding it upside down. I also saw that it was my sister, Tessa, on the line.

  Twisting my hand around, I grumbled, “It’s seven in the morning on a Sunday, you’d better be in jail or on your deathbed.”

  “No, what I am is pissed as hell that my older sister finally found a guy and she didn’t bother to TELL ME!”

  “Jesus, Tessa, stop yelling.”

  “Why? Afraid I’ll wake him up?”

  I glanced over my shoulder and found Jordan watching me with alert blue eyes. Very alert and very amused.

  “No, he’s already awake,” I croaked, turning back toward my nightstand. Like an offering from the hangover gods, a tall glass of water stood next to two small pills. “Thank you, sweet Lord.”

  “You call him Sweet Lord?” she asked incredulously.

  “What? Who?”

  “Your new boyfriend!” she yelled.

  Wincing, I pulled the phone away from my ear. “Tessa, if you won’t stop screaming at me, I’m hanging up and turning off my phone. It’s seven in the morning and I had the girls over for dinner and games last night. We were up late.”

  “You got plastered, you mean,” she stated in a much softer tone.

  “Yeah. They came over for dinner. Jordan cooked.”

  “Who’s Jordan?”

  “The man I’m seeing.”

  “Jordan what?” she asked.

  “Jordan Hawke.”

  “Okay, are you sure that’s his real name? Because that name sounds like it belongs in one of those romance novels that Mrs. Marshall reads.”

  “It’s his real name,” I sighed.

  “Hm. Cool. I guess it’s not a bad name. Tell me more about him,” she insisted. “Other than the fact that he freakin’ cooks, which is awesome by the way.”

  “Tessa, I just woke up, I’m hungover, and I desperately need coffee. Why don’t I call you back in a couple hours when I don’t feel like the entire cast of STOMP is in my skull.”

  “Fine,” she sighed. “But if I don’t hear from you by tonight, I’m not going to be so nice.”

  I disconnected the call and tossed the phone on my nightstand. Moving carefully, I pushed myself up onto an elbow, popped the pills into my mouth, and drank half the glass of water.

  When I was done, I lowered myself back down and turned over to face Jordan, jostling myself as little as possible.

  I could see the corners of his mouth tip up before he managed to suppress the urge to smile. “I take it you left the water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.”

  “Yes. I thought you might feel rough when you woke up this morning.”

  I closed my eyes and moaned. “Oh, God. How bad was it last night?”

  Jordan grinned then. “Well, two men named Charles and Chris came to pick up the other ladies and take them home.”

  “Oh my God. Please tell me no one was naked.”

  He laughed then. “Is that something that happens often?”

  “With my friends, you never know.”

  “Don’t worry, everyone was fully clothed,” he reassured me. “Though your friend Grier does have a lovely singing voice. She sang several songs I’ve never heard before by a woman she called Deana Carter.”

  “Grier sang?” I asked in shock.

  “Oh, yes. The rest of you tried to join in until she politely asked you to stop because, and I quote, y’all sound like a bunch of cats in heat.”

  I covered my face with my hands. “How many bottles of wine did we drink last night?”

  “Only three, but you made a sizeable dent in a bottle of tequila.”

  “No wonder I feel horrible.”

  “Well, it sounds as if you need coffee. I’ll go brew a pot while you rest.”

  “I can get up,” I murmured, cracking open my eyes to look at him.

  “No, I think it’s better if you stay in bed,” he insisted, another grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s been a while since I’ve been hungover, but I think coffee and toast in bed might be the best remedy.”

  “No toast in the bed,” I replied. “Crumbs.”

  “Okay, just coffee for now then.”

  “That sounds heavenly. Thank you.”

  Jordan put his hands on the bed and leaned over, kissing me in spite of what had to be monstrous morning breath. “Anything. Anytime.”

  As I watched him leave the room to make me coffee, I decided I liked the sound of that.

  The next morning, I walked into the office with Jordan feeling more like myself. Sunday had turned into a wonderful, relaxing day after my rude awakening from my sister.

  After he pampered me yesterday during the throes of my hangover, I insisted on making hamburgers for lunch. I wanted to do something nice for him.

  Though I knew he wasn’t a scorekeeper, I worried that I wasn’t making enough of an effort. After years of never dating, I felt as though I’d forgotten how to be a good partner.

  I called my sister that afternoon while Jordan went out to run errands. We talked for a while, mostly about the state of my love life, which was a change.

  “I can’t believe Dad is the one who told me you got yourself a boyfriend,” Tessa complained. “That’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to call me about after the first date and you realize they’re not a total loser.”

  “Well, there’s more to it than that,” I said.

  “Like what?”

  I told her everything. That it was Jordan who had left me two years ago and what happened when he came back.

  When I was done, she was silent for a long moment. Then she said, “He was the guy who broke your heart? And you gave him another chance?”

  “I never told him how I felt, Tessa. He didn’t know when he left. If he had…” I trailed off.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on before now? Why did I have to hear it from Dad?”

  She sounded hurt and I felt horrible. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s been a whirlwind and I’ve been struggling just to deal with it myself, much less explain it to someone else.”

  “Hmmm. Well, next time, I better be the first person you call. You’ve listened to me talk about my love life for years. It’s my turn to do the same for you.”

  “I don’t think there will be a next time,” I explained. “Things with Jordan are serious.”

  “How serious? You guys have only been going out for, what, six weeks?
Maybe two months?”

  “He mentioned marriage,” I declared.

  “Holy fucking shit! That’s definitely serious.”

  We chatted for another hour before Jordan returned and I hung up the phone. The rest of the evening, Jordan and I watched movies and relaxed on the couch. It was the perfect quiet Sunday at home.

  When we walked into the firm Monday morning, I was completely recovered from my overindulgence on Saturday night. Jordan and I separated as we came off the elevator, each of us heading to our own office after a quick good-bye.

  I settled in to work, answering emails and making my daily to-do list. At nine-thirty, Cynthia burst into my office, her eyes wet and her face flushed.

  Immediately, I got to my feet. “What’s wrong, Cynthia? Is everything okay?”

  She shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “I-i-it’s Milton Buck. He h-had a heart attack this morning!”

  “Oh, no,” I gasped. “What hospital did they take him to?”

  Cynthia took a deep, trembling breath. “H-h-he didn’t m-m-make it,” she stammered. “He’s g-gone.”

  My legs went weak beneath me and I collapsed back into my chair. “He’s dead?” I whispered.

  She nodded, walking over to the sofa in my office and sitting down as well. “I can’t believe it. He just retired a couple of months ago.”

  His granddaughter was just a few weeks old. He’d retired to spend more time with his family and now he was gone.

  Milton Buck had always been a tough but fair boss. It sounded like a cliché, even to me, but it was the truth. He held us all to a high standard, but he was even-handed and compassionate when it was needed. He’d been a good boss and someone I’d considered a friend.

  When he’d discovered that Cynthia was putting herself through law school while working full-time, Milton implemented a tuition reimbursement program. He’d also offered to help her with her coursework if she needed it. For that alone, he gained her undying love. The fact that he would pay attention to details like that in his employees’ lives, well, that was why I considered him a friend.

  Then I thought of Lucille, who’d been encouraging Milton to retire for years before he relented. All the plans she had to travel and visit their grandchildren. Now she would do them without Milton.