“That sounds like good old Sissy. How’d it all end up?”
“A fight broke out between Sally Peterson and Adele Simpson over Drake Simpson who’d also been fooling around with Ginger Hampton, a stylist and tattoo artist at the Snip ’N Curl.”
“Come on, you’re making that up.”
She crossed her fingers over her heart and held up her right hand. “Nope. Someone knocked over the punch bowl and a food fight ensued. It happened at the community room at the church. You can ask around if you don’t believe me.”
He grinned. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“I’ve been thinking about Lilly and the kids. There’s so much to do out here, I think it’s time to make her an offer, maybe part-time at first and then add more hours when we open. I think she’d be a real asset. And she can bring the kids with her while she works.”
“Then do it.”
“There’s a problem. I’m pretty sure she’d have to give up her subsidy from the county. What if she gives that up and The Cove turns out to be a bust.”
He gave her a sad look. “Come on Jordan, you don’t really believe that. Turning this house into a B & B is a terrific idea. We just have to make it happen. And we’re doing that every day.” He ticked off several fingers. “First, you have beach access. Second, you offer comfortable, spacious rooms. Throw in meals that many hotel restaurants only dream about serving. Third, you offer the only place to stay within a seventy-five-mile radius. You’ll make it work, we’ll make it work.”
“How is it you always know the right thing to say to me? Thanks.” She took a sip of wine, licked her lips. “I think that baby carrier for the bike is a good idea. The guests can always use it if they bring their toddlers with them. How about we see if we can pick one up in town tomorrow?”
“If Ferguson’s doesn’t have one, we’ll go into Santa Cruz.”
“Or order one online. It feels wonderful to have someone to talk to. I’m so glad you’re here, Nick.”
For the first time in a long time he felt as if he belonged somewhere. Here in this house, with Jordan and Hutton. He looked at Jordan over his wine glass, their eyes locked. He said softly, “I am too.”
She thought she might drown in those lake-blue eyes of his. She forced herself to look away. Glancing at Dog curled up by the fire asleep, Jordan announced, “I suppose we need to take Dog for his shots. I’ll call the vet in the morning, see if he can work us in.”
“I’d forgotten about that. I’ll take him. Do we need to get him...” He winced, “Uh, neutered?”
Jordan smiled. “Probably.” She lifted her glass. “Here’s to being a responsible dog owner, which I know you are or you wouldn’t have brought it up. Right?”
Nick glanced sympathetically over at Dog whose head popped up as if he knew the subject concerned his immediate future. “Maybe he’s too young for that.” Nick suggested, hopefully.
“Maybe. But we won’t know until Doc Sullivan tells us. Either way, it’s the right thing to do.”
“I’m sincerely sorry, Dog,” Nick said, wincing.
Sitting in front of the cozy fire, drinking a glass of wine, talking as though they’d known each other for years, Nick thought the atmosphere needed something. Glancing at the piano, he asked, “How about some music?”
“The stereo’s located under the television, plenty of CDs to choose from. Or we could listen to the radio. The station out of Santa Cruz comes in pretty clear most nights.”
And she would know that, thought Nick, as he tried to picture all the lonely nights she must have spent here alone with only the baby for company and before that…total solitude. “I was thinking of something else. Can you play that thing?” he asked good-naturedly, as he pointed to the piano in the corner.
“Six years of lessons three days a week after school,” she responded, amused. She got up and went over to the old upright piano, sat down. Making an exaggerated production out of every movement, she wiggled her fingers before flexing them again and then cracked her knuckles. She stretched out her arms, and then paused over the keys for dramatic flair. She started laughing at her own theatrics, which brought laughter from Nick.
“Are you going to play that thing or weave a spell?”
“I’m nervous.”
“You’re kidding.”
She touched the keys, began playing chopsticks before moving lightning fast into the rhythm of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. She played on through the stormy finish and then just as quickly shifted gears into a lively rendition of Elton John’s I’m Still Standing. When she stopped, she blew out a breath.
Nick noticed tears in her eyes. Damn, that had come out of the blue. “Jordan.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t played since before Hutton was born. It was…I played a lot when I was pregnant and alone and sitting here feeling sorry for myself and…waiting, and…”
“I get it.” He swallowed. He couldn’t help it; he opened his arms, and said, “Come here, baby.”
She didn’t even think, but moved to the sofa and into his arms. She began apologizing, “I’m sorry. Playing just brought back so many memories. When I was alone it used to be therapeutic, but…now… I know that sounds silly.”
“You have every right to feel that way.” He turned her to face him. Her head fell back on his shoulder. He inhaled the fragrance of her hair and smelled vanilla. When he looked down her big brown eyes locked on his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn’t.”
The urge to kiss her overwhelmed him. But the minute he leaned in, she suddenly got up and walked over to the entertainment center, and began flipping through a stack of CDs in the drawer until she found the one she wanted. “I have a CD I bought a couple of months ago.” She slid the disk into the stereo. Teddy Thompson’s lilting voice filled the room. His haunting, moving melody, Change of Heart, drifted from the speakers. She held out her hand. “Dance with me, Nick.”
Nick sucked in a breath, got up, and closed the distance to where she stood. He slipped his arms around her and they began to move slowly. Instinctively, he brought her arms up to drape around his neck, while his gathered her in closer.
Feeling his hands on her had her heart racing as it hadn’t in two years. Nick holding her like this, touching her like this seemed…so right. She followed his lead around the room as they circled the floor in each other’s arms. The beat changed slightly and he let go long enough to dip her to the side and then back again before drawing her even closer than before. He brought one of her clasped hands to his mouth, and gently placed a kiss there. The song shifted to Touching Home. They began moving again, one trip around the room, then another, body to body.
Jordan danced, eyes closed, in a dreamy fog. Being held in his arms felt like heaven. She imagined them stretched out together, her snuggling up to him in bed as they lay side by side. If she moved just so, leaned into him a little more… She nuzzled her head into his neck.
Just as she’d hoped, he brought his mouth down to fit with hers. Their tongues met for that first taste of each other. The playful tag went in and out until he sank deeper into the kiss. Jordan dove down with him, melting against his body while his tongue invaded, tasted, and savored.
Caught up, lost in the scorching heat and arousal, Jordan felt Nick’s hands drop lower to her rear, dragging her up against his erection. Wanting to feel all of him, she lost herself in the stormy heat, matching him burn for burn. His fingers roamed to her breast and began to rub and knead until the nipple pebbled to a hard knob.
It had been so long since anyone had made her feel wanted, needed. Jordan let out a low moan.
The sound brought Nick to his senses. And she was trembling. All at once, he let her go.
Her bubble burst. Where warm, wet lips had been, there was empty air. Through lingering lust she saw him take a step backward, away from her, then a few more steps in retreat, leaving them standing a good two feet apart. While they stared at each other, an upbea
t song began to play in the background.
“Nick…”
“It’s getting late, I… I need to go. Uh, you know we still need to order the drywall and insulation from Ferguson’s, right?”
Through clenched teeth she managed to spit out, “Fine. We can take care of that after the vet appointment.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll get an early start.”
She watched him disappear down the hallway and listened as the back door slammed shut behind him. With a sigh, she walked over to the stereo and shut off the music. For a while she stared into the dying fire then turned out the lights and reluctantly headed to bed feeling incredibly stupid and let down.
How could she have allowed herself to think a man like that would be interested in her? And she’d been all over him. And…wait a minute. Her brain started backtracking over the scene. He’d been so hard he’d all but busted out of his jeans.
She sighed and closed her eyes. For a few minutes she imagined that hardness moving inside her, filling her.
Disappointed in him, in herself, she went into her bedroom without turning on the light. Instead, she sat down on the bed trying to get thoughts of Nick out of her head. When she looked up she caught her reflection in the dresser mirror. Despite the darkness and the shadows, she could see her lips were swollen, tender from his smoldering mouth on hers. And the way he’d touched her breast. Closing her eyes, she knew one thing.
She wanted Nick.
Getting up from the bed she went to the drawer that held the box with Scott’s letters, the last link she had to him. Hugging the box to her chest, she walked to the closet, kissed the box, and pushed it to the back of the shelf. Rubbing the tears from her cheeks she said out loud, “I loved you Scott with all my heart. I can’t believe you’re gone so soon. But, it’s hard being alone all the time. It’s time… I let you go.”
She shed her clothes, and crawled into bed with tears still streaming down her face and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter 10 Book 1
When Jordan walked into the kitchen carrying Hutton on her hip at six-thirty, she saw Nick standing at the counter whipping up batter in a bowl. The shadows under his eyes told her he hadn’t slept any better than she had. Good, she thought, sourly. Serves him right for being such an ass.
“Morning, ladies,” he said as if he were perfectly okay with not having had sex with her the night before. “There’s coffee. Waffles okay?”
So, they weren’t going to mention their dancing glued to each other, or having their tongues down each other’s throats, or him getting her taut nipples to pebble, or his rock-hard erection.
She slipped Hutton into her high chair and went to the refrigerator to pour milk for her sippy cup. She decided she was savvy enough to play it just as cool as he. “Waffles sound delicious.” Were they going to discuss drywall and insulation now? she wondered. She poured a cup of coffee and watched as he filled the waffle iron with batter, closed the lid.
They stood there in strained silence until Nick blurted out, “You’re a good kisser.”
That sent coffee flying out of her mouth. “Gosh, you could’ve fooled me. The way you ran out of the room, I was pretty sure I hadn’t measured up to your player standards.”
Okay, she was still pissed he thought as he tore off a paper towel and handed it to her to wipe up the coffee she’d spewed. And who could blame her? He hadn’t been that inept since junior high. But everything inside him kept reminding him this was too important, that Jordan was too important to screw this up. “Get real. You think this is easy for me?”
“Easy? I’ve got news for you, Nick, nothing about you is easy.”
He ran his hands through his hair in frustration before turning back to the waffle iron, where he scooped out a steaming crisp cake which he handed off to Jordan to cool for Hutton’s breakfast. “Look, I’m not stupid, Jordan. I can see plain as day you aren’t ready. You think I don’t see how the light goes out of your eyes every time you mention his name.”
She stopped cutting up Hutton’s waffle and stared at him. “Is that the truth, Nick? You left last night because you don’t think I’m ready to move on, is that it?” When Hutton became impatient for her breakfast, she turned back to pour a light dabble of syrup over the baby’s waffle and slice an apple to go with it.
“I know you aren’t.” After serving up two more cakes he sat down at the table and looked up at her. “It’s okay. That kiss was rushing you.” And should he mention that he had no business being attracted to Scott’s widow in the first place.
She sighed and placed her hand over his. “That’s for me to decide, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, it is. But you don’t quite pull off the act.”
She bit her lip, reluctant to admit how he must have read her body language in order to pick up on something like that. But was he right? Was she that far from moving on? Scott had been dead almost a year. But he’d been gone for almost two. And she was so tired of being alone. “And how much time are you willing to give me, Nick?”
He reached to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m no saint here, Jordan. But I’d be lying if I denied being attracted to you.”
That really didn’t answer her question. Sometimes you just had to go with your instincts. So she sucked in a breath and moved into his space, took his face in her hands then kissed him softly on the mouth. “You aren’t real happy about this, are you, Nick? Being attracted to me.”
So she saw through that much of his façade. “I’m a bad bet, Jordan.”
“Why is that?”
How could he begin to list all his problems for her? She had a kid. Problems of her own to deal with. She didn’t need him screwing up her life any more than it already was. “Let’s just say I never should’ve kissed you and leave it at that.”
“Wow, Nick! That’s so flattering. How many times have you ignored your attraction to someone? How many times were you able to do that?” She held up a hand. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. You’re flat out wrong about one thing, though.” She didn’t wait for his response but moved right on to make her point. “You didn’t just kiss me. We danced. We made out…” Until you got cold feet and ran. “But why don’t you ignore that part, too. And you’re forgetting something, Nick, something important to me. I kissed you back. With a vengeance. But you may have picked up on something about me not being ready, which unfortunately makes you a very special man in my book, picking up on it like that.”
“No, I’m not. And it’s best if you remember that. And I’ve never been patient with anyone, ever.”
“Then maybe I’m not just anyone.”
On the drive into town, Jordan sat in the passenger seat playing tour guide, pointing out various sights along the Coast Highway, at one point, showing him where a field full of wild strawberries grew in abundance. “We’ll be able to pick strawberries there in a couple of months. And they call that point over there, Smuggler’s Point, which used to be the name of the town back in the 1800s because it was originally founded by smugglers who used that area to unload their bounty, rendezvous, and sell their goods.”
“You’re just full of useful information.”
“Useless, you mean. And don’t think I don’t know you’re making fun of me. But Pelican Pointe doesn’t exactly offer a wealth of cool places to visit. I’m doing my best to play concierge with what limited points of interest I have at my disposal.”
“I find it odd that the town was founded by smugglers. How do the snooty townspeople handle that?”
“They ignore it.” She shot him a knowing smile before suggesting, “Once we get there maybe we should split up. You know, you take the dog to the vet and I’ll go to Ferguson’s, and then swing by Murphy’s, pick up some milk and eggs.”
He knew what she was doing. “You don’t want to be seen in town together. That might jump start the rumor mill.”
Her jaw dropped. “Is that what you think? Not at all, I was
n’t…” She looked over at him and twisted up her mouth. “Maybe a little” She threw back her shoulders. “I don’t care what the town thinks.”
“That a girl. I think we should stay together, show them we don’t give a hang what they think of either of us. If the vet visit runs long, then we’ll talk about getting things done separately. How’s that?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Minutes later, Jordan directed him to a renovated two-story Craftsman-style house that served as both a residence and the Pelican Pointe Animal Clinic. Located a block off Main on Crescent Street, where houses more often than not doubled as both residential dwellings and their owners’ small businesses. The Sullivan house was no exception. The 1940s style house wore its pastel-blue paint job like a bright happy Easter egg nestled on a bed of plastic green grass. The home reflected the personality of its owners.
Bran Sullivan had been ready to retire for three years since he turned sixty-two. But he was the only vet within a fifty mile radius and he not only loved animals, but he also enjoyed working with his receptionist, Joy, who also happened to be his wife of thirty-six years. It was no hardship for him to continue taking care of the town’s animals while working out of his house, and closing the doors to go fishing every now and again when the mood struck him.
Joy, a plump, green-eyed woman with red, graying hair whose disposition reflected her name, sat behind an old beat-up desk, holding a tiny kitten. She eyed the bundle of puppy in Nick’s arms and greeted the couple with an overzealous innate style. “New client, right? I can always tell a newcomer. Fill out this form and have a seat. As I told you over the phone Bran’s a little busy this morning but we’ll work you in.”
A little busy? Jordan looked around the room at the various pet owners sitting squeezed into the small ten by twelve waiting area where every chair was taken. There were several cats, a few dogs, a pot-bellied pig and a sick-looking hamster still penned in its cage.
Pelican Pointe Boxed Set Books 1 - 3 (A Pelican Pointe Novel) Page 16