by Jayne Denker
“Sure, that’s easy. Summer and I decided the girls could use some fresh air, plus they should learn about community service—of which I’m a veteran, of course—and they voted for planting some flowers. The town council didn’t mind, since the works crew is busy filling in potholes and stuff right now. I mean, we could have done that, but we figured the girls would, you know, enjoy this more.”
Just this morning Will had noticed the pothole he had to veer around every time he biked to work was gone. But that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about. “I mean this.” He shook the paper at her. “Where did you get this?”
“Off your desk. Don’t worry—I made a few color copies so we didn’t mess up your original. It’s safe at home. Your mother wasn’t kidding—you’re really talented.”
“You stole from my apartment?”
“Borrowed,” she corrected.
“Breaking and entering.”
“There was no breaking involved. And just a little entering. It was when I was looking for Fred.”
“Jordan . . .”
“It’s . . . it’s for you.”
So exasperated he was hardly listening, he snapped, “What is? What are you talking about?”
“Flowers,” Jordan said quietly. “I said I would give you flowers, if that’s what you wanted from me. Now you can see them every morning.”
He couldn’t answer. Confusion shifted to realization that she was talking about their argument at his place on Thanksgiving, when he’d told her he wanted more from her than a hookup. When he’d sent her home.
“I don’t . . . I don’t need flowers from you, Jordan.”
Her face grew stony. “Okay, fine.” Tugging on the paper, she said, “Well, we still need this.” Then she turned his hand so his palm was up. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” And she plopped the cluster of red flowers into his hand, clumps of mud on their exposed roots and all.
Chapter 33
Great. Grand romantic gesture: rejected. Jordan didn’t know how to get back from this situation they were in, and she was all out of ideas. Well, except for telling Will outright she missed him desperately and wanted him back. For some reason, her usual penchant for forthright behavior had deserted her. She refused to entertain the idea that maybe she was feeling nervous about telling him the truth, in case he rejected her as soundly as he had this flower bed.
She got back to work, keeping her head down so the girls didn’t see the tears that were threatening. Screw William Nash. She was doing her best. If that wasn’t good enough, then forget it. Anger—yeah, it had always served her well in the past. It had better not fail her now.
“Jordan!”
She furtively glanced up. Oh God, it was Will again, coming after her. “What!” she snapped. Then a pair of skinny legs blocked her view of him.
“Hey.”
The other person she’d been looking for all over town had actually shown up.
“Hey, Blu—Skylar.”
“About time,” Grace joked. “Get in here and start digging.”
The tall, thin girl, still dressed in a flannel shirt and knit hat even though the weather was summer-like, said, “Nah,” as she casually dipped into a bag of potato chips she was carrying.
“Look,” Sydney exclaimed. “Jordan’s back!”
Skylar glanced at Jordan. “You were gone?”
Jordan couldn’t tell if the teen was just acting casual or really hadn’t noticed her absence. She stood up again and brushed off her knees. “How . . . how’re you doing?”
Skylar shrugged. “Good.”
She didn’t seem angry. Or friendly. Or . . . anything, really. Which was typical Skylar. Jordan’s stomach churned, and she wasn’t sure what to say next.
“Got a second?”
Skylar shrugged again and followed when Jordan walked a few steps away from the rest of the group. Will came up beside her as well, but she didn’t have time to be irritated with his presence. She needed to talk to Skylar. “Look,” she blurted out, “I’m glad to see you. I wanted to say . . . I’m sorry.”
Skylar stared at her blankly and pulled another chip out of the bag. “For what?” Crunch.
“I . . . for the whole . . . thing that happened at the cabin. You know.”
“Seriously?” Crunch. When Jordan just gaped at her, she said, “I heard you’re taking over the group. Is that true?”
“Wait.” Jordan closed her eyes. She needed to think for a minute. Then she felt a gentle hand on her back. Will. Touching her, grounding her, holding her up. It always worked. And he knew she needed it right now. She was silently grateful for that. “You aren’t pissed at me?”
“Why?” Skylar made a face, as though Jordan had asked the most ridiculous question in the entire world. “For calling the cops?”
“No. Well, yes, but more for what I said. Or didn’t say. I didn’t help you. I didn’t talk you out of it.”
“I don’t even remember what you said to me before I took off. Hey, I was going to go with Dylan no matter what. We had it all planned. Want some?” And she held out the bag to Jordan.
Incredulous, Jordan ignored the chips, although the powerful smell of sour cream and onion was making her slightly nauseated. Or maybe it was this conversation. “You don’t remember.”
“I remembered you called the cops, but it wasn’t like you shocked me or anything. You were doing the grownup thing. It’s what you guys do—call the cops so they can mess us up.” She glanced at Will. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Will murmured. “But I’d say it was a good thing Jordan did the grownup thing and called the cops.”
“Yeah.” Skylar sighed. “Pissed me off then, though. Dylan was my boyfriend, not a criminal.” She cut Will off as he started to speak. “Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s too old. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. We broke up anyway. You can relax,” she said pointedly, rolling her eyes at Jordan. The girl tucked the bag of chips under her arm and twisted the cap off a bottle of soda. “I’ve gotta go. You coming to Tuesday’s meeting at the church? I need you there to help me vote down another trip to the bowling alley or whatever.”
“Uh . . . yeah,” Jordan managed to say. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“’Kay.”
And Skylar crossed the lawn and meandered down the street, chugging her soda.
Jordan just stood there for a moment. Will still had his hand on her back; he moved it up to squeeze her shoulder.
“You okay?”
“I have no friggin’ clue.”
He jostled her a little bit, gently. “I told you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did everything right.”
“I didn’t stop her from going with Dylan. I think I even told her to go.”
“She’s a teenager. You think she cared about your advice?”
Jordan found herself laughing. Just a little. “It does sound crazy, when you put it like that.” She flashed him a weak smile. “Thanks.”
“Thank you for the flowers. I didn’t . . . I didn’t mean I didn’t like them. You just . . . surprised me.”
“Okay.” After a pause, she said, “Sorry for stealing one of your designs. They’re really amazing, you know? You could frame them.”
Will shrugged, reddening. “I was just messing around.”
“Have you heard? Your mom is offering to teach the girls quilting.”
“That ought to be good.”
“You can help too.”
Will smiled gently. “I’ll pass. You know I’m retired.”
“You should rethink that. Plenty of room for crafting in Gran’s house. You could lower the shades, hide out, sew to your heart’s content. Nobody would ever know.”
“About the house . . .”
“Yep?”
Will paused, then said, “I’d better get to work. I’ll talk to you later.”
Planting the flowers took all day, and by the time she and Summer sent the girls home, cleaned up their work site, and put all the tools in the shed on the grounds, nigh
t was falling. Jordan got in her car, keenly aware her days in Holly’s house were numbered and she should spend as much time there as possible, while she still had the chance.
But she didn’t simply go up the nearest side street to get to Maple Avenue, a drive that would have taken about a minute and a half. Instead, she went the long way, down Main Street. She was surprised to realize she’d actually missed Marsden. And its residents. She found herself waving to various people on Main Street, and they waved back. It gave her a really warm feeling. She never thought she’d say it, but Marsden was actually . . . okay.
In the purple twilight, the stars came out one by one as she drove higher and higher up the rural roads, cresting the ridges of the weathered hills above the valley. She caught a glimpse of the Marsden River, and the town looked downright picturesque from this height, as streetlights and house lights started to come on, glimmering in the new darkness.
Then Jordan drove back in the south end of town and took another couple of back roads to get to Maple. She cruised down the street she’d known all her life, seeing the neighborhood with fresh eyes. She’d always just thought of it as the annoying place surrounding the haven of her grandmother’s house, but now she knew it was populated by pleasant people, like the ones she’d met when she’d inadvertently kidnapped their cats. Heck, even Bedelia was growing on her.
Damn, was she was getting sentimental in her old age? No. It was Will who had done this to her, and she . . . didn’t mind. It took far less energy to let the Marsden experience roll over her instead of trying so vigorously to hate on it.
Too bad feeling the Marsden love didn’t include Will anymore. That she regretted.
So much so, in fact, that as she pulled into her driveway, her headlights sweeping the front lawn, she imagined Will sitting on the porch loveseat, just as he had so many times since the first time, in the middle of the night, drunk off his ass and green-eyed with jealousy, dying for reassurance that Jordan didn’t prefer his brother over him. A ridiculous fantasy, but there it was all the same.
Except . . . someone was sitting on the porch loveseat in the darkness.
“Ma’am? We’ve had a complaint.”
Nothing, absolutely nothing could keep the huge smile off her face at the sound of that voice—the one she knew all too well. The one she was so grateful to hear, actual tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
“Oh?” It was almost impossible to get even that one word out around the lump in her throat. Because she knew. She just knew this was her second chance. She didn’t deserve it, but here it was. And she was grateful.
“Yes. A Mr. Fred . . .” Will pretended to flip through a little notebook as she slowly climbed the stairs. “I’m sorry; I didn’t get a last name. Orange hair, yellow eyes? Very distinctive look. I’m sure you know him.”
“What’s the complaint?”
“He said he missed his friend, William. That’d be me, in case you weren’t sure. So I felt I should stop by and relieve his suffering.”
“He did, did he? How come you’re not hanging out together, then?”
“Who says we aren’t?”
Will lifted his right arm to reveal a very comfortable-looking orange tabby lying close on the cushion, his front paws and chin on Will’s thigh.
Lucky cat, Jordan though. “I see. I’ll leave you two alone, then?”
“I don’t know. Plenty of room for one more.”
“Permission to sit?”
“You don’t need permission. It’s your porch.”
“For now.”
Will watched as Jordan sat down on the other side of Fred. Then he murmured, solemnly, “I can’t take your house, Jordan.”
“Hey, don’t worry about me. You do what you’ve got to do.”
“I do. Worry about you.”
“I hear a second-story barn apartment is going to be vacant soon. Maybe I can move in there.”
“No way. The crazy owner is turning it into a craft room.”
“Oh. Well, it’s better than the alternative, I guess. I thought you were going to say the next displaced Nash brother was going to take it.”
“What, Cam? Ah, don’t count him out just yet. Just because Summer’s going to the Capital District doesn’t mean he isn’t going to follow her.”
That bit of news made Jordan very, very happy. “Not all relationships are doomed to fail?”
“Not when some of us feel like fighting for them.”
Us? At that word, Jordan’s stomach did a little flip. But she maintained her casual tone. “Well, I’m sure there are other places I can rent. Does Jesse need a roommate?”
“Don’t even joke. You know how clean you are? Imagine the other end of the spectrum. The far end.”
“Yikes. Never mind.”
Will was quiet again. Then he said, “I can’t throw you out.”
“So, what, you want me to be your tenant?”
“No way. I’m no landlord. Besides, where would I live? Don’t say with Jess. I can’t stand the filth there either.”
Will didn’t offer up any other solution. He just waited. Jordan had to ask, “You mean be roommates?”
“Not exactly.”
His voice had gone rough, and Jordan’s knees weakened at the sound. She was so glad she was sitting down. She was so glad Fred was between them too, because if he wasn’t—
“Damn cat.” The little contrarian chose exactly that moment to jump down and chase after something in the yard only he could see.
“Jordan.”
Will’s voice was warm, and the dread that had settled in her, that horrible monster that had wrapped its tentacles around her heart until it nearly stopped beating, finally eased, after so many months. He drew her closer with an arm around her shoulders, his eyes dancing. Oh, that got to her gooey center, which started oozing all over the place alarmingly.
“What?”
He looked her up and down, his gaze intense in the shadows. She wanted to reach out to him, but she didn’t dare. She didn’t want to jinx it, because he wasn’t acting furious with her anymore. And she needed him not to be furious with her anymore. Ever again, if she could manage it.
“I missed you,” he said.
“You hated me.”
“Never. I was angry. And at the same time, I still missed you. I don’t want this,” he murmured, gesturing between them. It reminded her of their night at the inn, and she started trembling. Just a little. “I want more. I think you do too.”
It also brought to mind what else had happened that night—the bad things. She just couldn’t shake the memory.
“The whole time we were together, I felt like . . .” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she fought to get the words out. “I felt like I didn’t deserve you.”
“Stop . . .”
“It’s an issue. Ask anybody in Marsden.”
“You know,” he said, his voice as low as hers, “contrary to popular belief, the people of Marsden don’t know everything. And they don’t know you. Not like I do. If they don’t, it’s just their loss, isn’t it?”
“But—”
“I love you.”
Her jaw worked, her lips moved, but nothing came out. It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like years before she managed to speak. And when she did, it was, “O–okay, whoa. Slow down there, cowboy—”
“No.”
“Wh–what?” she croaked.
“No, I will not slow down. And I won’t take it back, so don’t even think about telling me to. I’ve gone slowly enough with you. I’ve been patient. I’m done waiting, done tiptoeing around your moods, trying to keep you calm. Now this is on you. Right now. Are you going to accept this—us—or keep fighting it?”
She wanted to say something. She really did. She couldn’t.
“Jordan?” If there was a tinge of fear in Will’s voice, he didn’t let it show on his face. He stayed still, watching her closely.
“What about the other stuff? What if I really did hit on you at
the wedding only because Celia told me not to?” She cringed. Even though this was old news, it still haunted her.
But when she built up enough courage to sneak a peek at Will, he was smiling. “Do you really believe that? I mean, do you believe anything you felt that night, or any time after, came from you trying to spite your cousin?”
Well, when he put it that way . . . “No, not really.” She leaned closer to him, placing her hand on his warm, solid chest. “Because I fell in love with you way before then.”
Jordan was never sure if, at that moment, she kissed him or he kissed her. It didn’t matter in the long run, because they met in the middle, and his lips were warm and soft and smiling against hers. The air was cool, and the moon was rising over the trees, and Will’s arms were around her, holding her tight to him.
His lips caressed hers with an earnestness that startled her. In Will’s kiss was an apology, a reconciliation, and a promise for the future. It scared her to death, but she didn’t want to pull away. Not ever. She was more than willing to fight through her fear to have him back. She let him pull her even closer, and she leaned into him, wishing she could get closer still. He kissed her once, twice, lightly, then deeper, his tongue stealing into her mouth, finding hers, his hands hot on her back until he bent her backward a little, molding her to him, nibbling her lower lip just a little.
“God, I love your mouth.”
“William Nash. Are you going to start talking dirty to me, right here on my grandmother’s porch? With the likelihood of all the neighbors listening in?”
“Like you ever cared before.”
“Well,” she said, fighting to get the words out, as she was more than a little distracted by his kisses traveling along her jaw and down her throat, “if I’m going to be a respectable, upstanding Marsden citizen from now on, I’m going to have to be careful about my image.”
Will stopped kissing her abruptly, which sent a jolt of alarm through Jordan. Then he wasn’t holding her as tightly. And he was looking down instead of at her. What was wrong now? Had she said something to offend him?
After a moment, he said, “I have to apologize too.”
“You mean I’m not the only screwup in this relationship?”