Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut
Page 14
"I don't believe that for a second." Jesse yawned again. "Sorry I caused so much trouble."
"You live to cause trouble."
"Not for you. I don't want you caught in the middle."
"Too late on all counts," I said. "I'm in the middle, I'm in trouble, and I'm coming to your concert."
After we said goodnight, I remained on the porch steps a while longer, listening to the crickets chirp their nighttime lullaby. I closed my eyes, imagining what night sounded like at the beach house. The way things ended with Jordan, I'd never know.
Didn't matter, I told myself. In two days I would be in Alaska with "tall-dark-and-handsome" from behind Door Number 3.
13
HIDE AND SEEK
A pair of long, denim covered legs with expensive looking boots peeking beneath the hem, leaned against the taxi shuttle sign. My gaze traveled upward to a gray shirt, sleeves rolled to below the elbows, exposing well-defined forearms. A pair of large hands held a makeshift sign—"5846?" There, propped against the post, stood Door Number 3, Douglas Peterson, in the flesh. Toned. Tight. Flesh.
When I shrugged, he unfolded and sauntered toward me. "Number 5846, I presume?" he asked in the same low timbre I'd heard on the pod.
I extended my hand."My friends call me Marli Davis for short."
He drew my hand to his lips in a gentleman's kiss. "A sense of humor. I like you already." A disarming grin appeared on his face."Welcome to Alaska, Marli Davis. I'm Doug Peterson, your personal tour guide." He took my suitcase and led me a few short feet to where a little black sports car glistened in the sun.
"No way! A Lotus?"
"And she knows her cars. Impressive."
"Surprised. I pictured you driving some large mountain crawler with a snow plow on the front."
He slid behind the steering wheel. "You did not just use an ancient cliché of Alaska?"
I repressed a giggle at his attempt to appear offended. "I don't get out much."
Doug's laugh sounded melodic. I was in serious trouble. "Coming here from Ohio completely contradicts that statement, you know. Let's hope after this weekend, your opinion changes." He touched the ignition panel with his finger. A low, whirring sound replaced the powerful roar I expected and my eyes widened. "A hybrid," he explained.
"You're joking."
"I take it you were expecting something else…again?"
"I'm going with 'unexpected' from now on where you're concerned." Hmm purred in the back of his throat and my cheeks warmed in response.
Doug pulled onto Egan Drive and headed for downtown Juneau. Majestic mountains blanketed with pine trees formed a wall on one side of the highway, while indigo water edged the shoreline on the other. We passed under a canopy of gray clouds that settled over the city, winding our way through small streets lined with souvenir shops as we got closer to where the cruise ships were docked.
Doug touched my knee, sending a surprise jolt of electricity up my leg. "Hotel first? You probably want to get settled before I dazzle you at dinner?"
I pretended to be unaffected, brushing his hand away."I doubt you can top the Lotus."
A penthouse suite at the new Marriott hotel was beyond my expectations. An infrared beam zipped across my eyes before the security lock released. The door opened automatically and once inside, I turned immediately to make sure a deadbolt existed. Doors magically opening in the middle of the night would freak me out.
Past the entry in a small sitting room, a low table with a hammered brass caldron full of fresh yellow long-stemmed tulips stole my attention. My finger caressed a velvet petal.
"Tulips?"
Doug handed me a bottle of water. "Your favorite, if I'm not mistaking. Sorry, I couldn't find pink ones, but I believe yellow is one of your favorite colors?"
"You know about pink tulips? And my favorite colors?"
"Favorite colors were easy, but the pink tulips took some serious investigating." He reached for my hand. "Come. I'll give you the VIP tour." He towed me through a set of double doors. "This is your bedroom and to the right is the bath, complete with a whirlpool tub and steam shower. There's also a laundry room off the kitchen."
I wandered into the bathroom. Exquisite tile work and marble covered the floors and a raised platform surrounding what could pass for a small swimming pool. A glass partition separated the tub from the steam shower. Large mirrors hung over the sinks and a wide full-length one covered the far wall.
"I may need a lifejacket to keep from drowning in the tub. This place is fantastic. Headquarters will love the bill."
Doug pressed me against the doorframe. His hands slipped inside my jacket and clamped my waist. "There isn't a bill."
I sidestepped, leaning against the opposite side of the doorjamb. Too close, too fast.
"Why not?"
He didn't move, his gaze moving a slow roll over my body. "My family owns the hotel. This penthouse is mine."
Crap.
"What do you mean your penthouse?"
In one step Doug caged me, pressing his hands on the woodwork to the side of my head. A sly smile crept on full lips—lips close enough to touch mine.
"Don't panic. I'm staying at our house on Douglas Island."
My loud gulp echoed. "Please tell me Douglas Island is not named after you."
"No, only a nephew." He pushed back, raising his arms as if an outlaw facing the barrel of a gun. "Now you've spoiled it. I have nothing left to talk about at dinner. I guess I'm forced to spend the time interviewing you."
"You?" I asked, surprised he even suggested it. "But I thought that wasn't allowed."
"I'm not letting someone else decide who's 'qualified' for me to spend my life with, and first impressions are too important." He stopped in the bedroom doorway. "I'll pick you up at eight for dinner. Dress casual. I'm taking you where they make the best fish and chips, and the atmosphere is always fun." He laid a key card on the dresser. "This is a security card so you don't have to do the eye thing. I'll let myself out."
I followed, catching him at the entry door. "Hang on. I want to know. My first impression? Good or bad?"
His arm reached around me, drawing me against him. "Your first impression? Scary as hell. I'm still trying to catch my breath." He kissed my surprised mouth and disappeared out the magic door.
I couldn't move, couldn't breathe...and I wanted to kill Alex.
Mango scented bubbles billowed around my body and each tiny pop against my skin stole a worry. Lulled into a slumbering haze, I slithered deeper into the warm water. When my cell receptor rang on the floor beside me, I jerked awake and snorted perfumed water up my nose. A wave of water cascaded down the tile step, carrying the receptor away in the current. I stumbled from the tub and glided across the wet floor. Frantic, I wrapped the receptor in a towel and rubbed it dry. The face lit up and I checked the missed call. Jordan! I swiped the screen, but nothing worked.
Tears mixed with fruity snot dribble. I missed Jordan's call because I was in Alaska with some guy I didn't want to meet, standing naked in his bathroom. Wanting to kill Alex no longer remained a passing thought.
Black jeans, white button-up shirt, and burgundy faux leather jacket were as "casual" as I could get without wearing pajamas. After pulling on my boots, I walked out on the balcony, still bummed about missing Jordan's call.
Maybe he wanted to apologize—beg me to take him back. Right. He wasn't the one sucking the face off someone else. He probably called to permanently end things. Why deal with the drama? It was obvious I lacked self-control. I stood on a balcony in Alaska, for heaven's sake. Regret filled me. I'd accept my consequence with dignity and move on. Maybe the Fates had a hand in landing me in Alaska.
An odd buzzing vibration in my pocket startled me. My cell receptor came back to life, and a handsome face covered with a frantic expression stared back. Frightened to know the reason for Jordan's call, not to mention forced to divulge my latest impulsive decision, I purposely waited until the last ring to answer.
<
br /> "Hello?"
"Marli! Where are you? Why haven't you answered my calls?" His sharp tone matched the expression on the screen.
I acted coy. "Jordan?"
His lips disappeared, but his voice softened. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. You're the one upset."
"I-I'm worried. Why won't anyone tell me where you are?"
The Program tracked me by my pink wrist shackle, but I deliberately set the GPS on my receptor to "private" so only Rick knew my whereabouts.
"Why do you care? You said you needed space. Besides, the last time I told you the truth about something, you ran away."
"Okay, I admit I handled things badly and wish I could take it all back, even though I had good reason. Please tell me where you are."
"You walked out on me, Jordan."
"And what you did with Jesse hurt. I thought we meant more to each other, but right now, I only care about where you are."
"I'm not ready to tell you, and my understanding is we're dating. To me, dating means I can see other people."
"I meant date each other. If you want to see other guys I guess I can't stop you. But not Jesse. I don't trust him. He's not even in The Program—a fact he seems to forget. Where are you?"
"Who said anything about trusting Jesse? I'm asking you to trust me. I trust you. You can't tell me you sit around alone all the time. So? Who else is in your life?"
Nail prints appeared in my palms from my clenched fists. I couldn't stand the thought of Jordan's mouth kissing another girl's, or his arms holding someone else. I wanted to take back my question, especially since Jordan took his sweet time answering.
"Will you tell me where you are if I answer your question?"
"Depends."
"Her name is Heather Sandberg."
Is as in current girlfriend.
"Oh." I should have stopped right there, but my seventeen-year-old brain groveled for more. "How long have you been with Heather?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't do this."
"How long?"
"On and off for about two years. She studies abroad and the long distance relationship hasn't worked."
"I'm long distance," I pointed out.
"Yes, but the difference is I want you in my life. I'll make it work.
"Are you sure it's not just because we're 'matched?'"
Jordan sighed hard. "The Program doesn't control my feelings. The day I met you, I called Heather and broke things off. Please, tell me where you're at?"
"Is it really over?"
"Dammit Marli! Where the hell are you?"
He didn't answer my question, so I wouldn't answer his. "Not yet."
"Fine! Heather and I dated my senior year of high school. I think I held onto her because I liked having a girlfriend, not so much because I liked Heather. She isn't someone I could spend my life with—she's nothing like you. Yes, as far as I'm concerned, it's over. Now?"
My gnawed bottom lip felt raw. "Is she a candidate?"
The vein at his temple pulsed. I'd pushed too far. "Yes…and five diamonds, to answer your next question, but not compatible—and I'm not talking genetically." He exhaled an exasperated breath. "Please?"
I bit my lip harder, processing this new revelation. Jordan was involved in a relationship with a girl worthy of five diamonds, and possibly not "past tense."
Bitch.
"Not so easy, is it? Jealousy tastes nasty when it's served back to you," he said.
"I'm not jealous of your ex- girlfriend, if indeed she is out of your life," I lied, seething with envy. "It's a surprise, that's all. You've never mentioned any other girls. Are there more?"
"Is there anyone besides Sam? And no, nobody serious. Like I said, Heather never mattered that much, and yes, she's out of my life. Maybe that's why I've never said anything. She became ancient history the instant you became my present. Now can we be through with this conversation?"
"For now. And there wasn't anyone before Sam…unless you count Tommy Green. He was my second grade crush and the first boy who kissed me. I punched him and got sent home from school."
Jordan laughed. "That must have been some kiss. Next time I'll stand back and watch for your wicked right hook."
"Next time? Are you sure there'll be one?
Jordan's cheeks puffed full, all humor gone. "I'd like one. Marli, I'm sorry I get jealous, but I can't help it. You're too important to me and it's hard to trust anyone around you."
The tiny flare of anger fizzled with his declaration. However, he had to understand where it came from. "I need your trust, Jordan, without exception."
"I get that, but I can't make promises where Jesse's concerned."
"You think I'm with him now, don't you?" At least with Jesse Jordan knew his competition.
He hesitated. "Sorry, yes. He's not answering his receptor either. I'm going crazy."
"Mine got wet and powered out." I paused, letting him squirm. "Breathe. I'm not with Jesse. He's at your family's beach house."
"How do you know that?"
"I called him the other night to thank him for the concert tickets. By the way, I am going."
"We'll talk about it later."
"No. I'm going."
"Maybe." The next sigh sounded rough. "This is hard for me, Marli. So, if you're not with Jesse, where are you? I'm a nervous wreck."
I pulled as much oxygen into my lungs as possible, bracing for the aftermath. "I'm…in Alaska."
"Alaska? What are you doing there?" Jordan grew quiet, his tone apprehensive. "You opened the red envelope, didn't you? You're in Alaska to interview."
"Yes—"
"Don't! Don't interview. Come home."
His voice held an edge of fear and suddenly, I wished things could be so easy…that I could simply call and say "I've changed my mind." The Program, however, never made anything easy.
"Jordan, you know the drill. I can't."
His expression showed the disquiet consuming him. "Why did you open it?"
I rolled my eyes. "Someone suggested I should."
"I didn't think you really would. I thought—"
"What? That I'd just patiently wait around until you decided to come back?" Which I'd have done if Alex hadn't opened the envelope.
"Something like that, I'm ashamed to admit."
We were headed into the same argument, both wanting control—both needing trust. He called me stubborn, but he didn't know about the betrayal I'd suffered, nor could I tell him. Because of what happened, I worried I'd never be able to totally trust in one person. The harder Jordan tried to keep me close, the more pieces of my guard fell away. The fear I'd lose myself entirely pushed me the opposite direction.
"Damn Program!"
"Jordan, stop. It doesn't matter."
"It does matter. I can't lose you. I love you!"
My voice cracked with the skipped heartbeat. "What?"
"Nothing."
I struggled to catch my breath. "Didn't sound like 'nothing.'" I waited, but no response. My heart pounded so hard, it hurt. "Jordan?"
"I think I'm falling in love with you."
"You think?"
"No. I'm positive. I can't quit thinking about you. I don't eat or sleep, and when I'm away from you and you don't answer my calls, my imagination goes wild."
"Oh my." The words tumbled from my mouth shaky and uncertain.
"Damn. This isn't how I intended to tell you and it's the last thing you need to hear right now. I apologize. I know you hate pressure and I keep doing it. Forget I said anything."
Seconds passed like hours before I could answer. I fingered the silky fabric of the drapes edging the balcony door.
"I can't forget something so huge and you're wrong, Jordan. I do want to hear it. I like the way I feel when you say it, but that's all I can give you right now.
"I didn't expect you to say it back." His video feed went dark and I chose to believe it happened because of water damage and not because he deliberately shut it off.
/>
"Don't lie. Yes you did and I wish I could, but it's too soon. Everything's happened so fast and I'm confused. The only thing I'm sure about is that I don't want you to go away."
Jordan's handsome face filled the screen once more, his signature twisted smile crumbling another chunk of my guard away—the chink in my armor.
"Babe, I'm not going anywhere."
The clock in the living room chimed the magic hour. "I have to go."
"Tell me he's ugly, old and wrinkled."
A giggle burst forth. "You know three years age difference is the max, so unless you consider yourself 'old and wrinkly,' he's also nineteen."
"You didn't say he's ugly."
"Enough Jordan. I really need to go."
"What's his name?"
"Can't say. You know the rules."
"Damn! I hate this."
I leaned over the balcony. Doug waved from the parking lot below.
"I'm hanging up now. Good night."
The screen turned black without a reply and the awkward goodbye pinched. I remained glued to the terrace. Jordan loved me. I possibly loved him. The problem?
Door Number 3.
14
MY ALASKA
"Fate" walked in donning blue jeans and a beige sweater. His tousled hair glistened with shine enhancer and his deep blue eyes sparkled. First date jitters hit and I wicked my sweaty palms along the sides of my jeans.
Doug's eyes skimmed the length of my body. "Wow. You look terrific."
"You don't look half bad yourself." I took the hand offered and walked beside him to the entrance. "Can't wait to see what you've got planned on your dazzle-meter."
The hotel doors opened to a glossy black jeep with enough gleaming chrome that sunglasses were required. Doug grinned when my tongue slammed the pavement.
"Is this more 'Alaska worthy' for you?"
"It's something all right." He opened the door and steps automatically extended below the shiny bumpers. "Hmm, for a minute I thought I'd need to be airlifted into the seat."
"Great, 'height' jokes. I can't win." He jumped into his seat, giving me a wink. "How's my dazzle so far?"
I gave him a playful once over with my eyes. "Are we talking about you or the jeep?"