Taking A Chance

by Reina Torres

  Vance watched Jordan sit on the porch swing, tucking her legs underneath her, and smiled. “This is a great idea.”

  She smiled at him and patted the empty half of the swing beside her. “You worked hard on that dinner. It’s time you relax a little.”

  “I liked cooking for you,” he picked up the bottle of Red Steel Reserve and poured two glasses. “You deserve a break since you’re putting up with a house guest who basically invited himself.”

  She waved him off. “You mean, the guest that I insisted should stay at my house?” She sighed. “Besides, I thought this would be quieter than a hotel. The Napa Grand is great, but this time of year, they do get quite a few families booking rooms.”

  The soft call of a bird from a nearby tree turned his head. “I could get used to the quiet out here.” Vance handed a glass to Jordan and took a seat beside her on the porch swing. He looked out at the street, amazed that there wasn’t a single car passing by. “I can actually hear myself think.”

  Jordan’s laughter rolled through him and stole his breath. “You live on the thirty-first floor. It can’t be that loud up there.”

  “No, not noise,” he agreed, “but the lights from the surrounding buildings. There’s no escaping it. You can almost hear the noise from the cars on the street, the shouting. Maybe it’s a conditioned response,” he shrugged, “but today it was almost scary how much work I got done.”

  He saw her shoulders relax and the gentle movement tugged her blouse tighter to her body. It was a good look on her. Hell, he bet sheets would look good on her too. The thought was enough to make him a little uncomfortable, shifting his position on the swing to ease the ache he lifted the glass to his lips for a sip.

  “Well, I’m glad you had a productive day,” she took a sip as well, “I had more than my share of interruptions today.” He could see the flush of color on her cheeks, even in the half-light from the moon. “Half a dozen people ‘popped’ in to see how things went last night.”

  “And what did you tell them?” He watched her roll her eyes. “That I’m better on the phone than in person?” Her eyes narrowed at him, darkening a little even as the corner of her lips twitched up in a smile. “That didn’t sound like what I meant to say.”

  She sipped at her wine, her eyes carefully set on his face. “Oh, I think there might be a little Freudian slip in those words, Mister Donovan.” She lowered one hand, reaching down to tug her hem over her knees. “But, no, I told them all, including your friend and my boss, that we had a lovely evening. And that’s probably what had everyone so curious. I don’t have dinner with many people. I’m just too busy after working for Gabe and Ryo to do much more than stumble in the door, reheat something, shower and climb in bed.”

  He tried to ignore the blood that rushed south at the idea of the ‘shower and bed’ part of Jordan’s routine and focus on the other picture she’d put in his head. “You almost sound like me.” He set the glass down on his thigh, struggling to relax. “Just how often do you get out for fun?”

  She blushed, leaning back against the swing. “Well, Frankie asked me over the other week.”

  “Frankie?” Vance felt his shoulders tense, but he also felt his throat tighten, just the littlest bit. “Who is Frankie?”

  He saw Jordan’s brow furrow, a twinge of confusion in her expression, and then she relaxed into a laugh. “Frankie?” She leaned her cheek on her hand and shook her head. “Francesca DeLuca, my best friend. She and Nate invite me over quite a bit, but I hate being the third wheel at their table.”

  “I remember you talking about her.” Vance’s shoulders relaxed and he leaned back against the swing. “They’re your friends, they care about you.”

  “Yes, they do,” she agreed and the look on her face turned into a wistful smile, “but they’re madly in love, and sitting at the table, I feel like I get hot flashes.” Jordan’s lips parted in a gasp before she turned to hide her face behind her hand. “I’m so smooth.”

  “I don’t care about smooth.” He watched her intently, hoping she’d turn back to him, he really did love looking at her. Webcams and camera apps on his phone didn’t do her justice. “I like that you say what comes into your head. It keeps me on my toes,” he explained, “but I really like hearing your voice.”

  “Oh?” She took another sip and pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth as if she needed another taste. “So, all of these calls,” she chuckled, “it’s because you like the sound of my voice?”

  He wondered if she knew how husky her voice had become. He didn’t want to mention it and make her uncomfortable. Besides, he was enjoying the shivers that the soft rasp of her voice was sending up and down his spine. “I like a lot about you, Jordan, but yes, I love listening to your voice,” he lifted his glass in a toast, “especially when you’re happy about something. You sigh sometimes, and,” he reached out his hand and trailed his fingers down her forearm, feeling her tremble slightly in the wake of his touch, “it’s almost like I can feel your breath on my ear.”

  She didn’t answer immediately. She didn’t even move.

  Being this close to Jordan, just watching her breathe, was doing all kinds of things to him and the pulse that jumped at the base of his throat.

  “Sometimes,” he confessed, “I’d go to sleep replaying our conversations in my head. Imagining,” he smiled at her, “that you were there beside me, your head on my pillow.”

  There was a hitch in her breath, a catch that he could hear in the quiet of her porch under the night sky.

  “You know what else I’ve imagined?”

  On any other day, he would have taken the heated look in her eyes as a boost to his ego. He had some idea where her thoughts were. He knew his had already been there the moment she walked in the door looking windblown and utterly kissable. But tonight, seated beside her, sharing the kind of quiet moment that he’d only dreamed about, he decided that there was no time like the present to rack up as many memories as he could.

  Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out his phone and activated the screen. With the cold light glowing on their faces, he could see her eyes narrowing in confusion. “I seem to remember there’s a song that you like.”

  He could almost hear her mind working as he opened his eTunes app and selected the song. Setting it on the seat between them, Vance stood and offered her his hand.

  She looked at it as if she was afraid to touch him. Maybe afraid like he was, that this was just a figment of his over-active imagination. But he didn’t move, letting her process the sight before her.

  Beside her on the swing, the app loaded up and the song began to play. From the first guitar chords and the soft addition of a synthesizer, the melody was spelled out in a slow progression of notes that filled the air, a quiet caress of sound before Deanna Carter’s voice began the opening lines of ‘Strawberry Wine.’

  “Don’t worry,” he gave her a smile when she looked up into his face, “I promise I won’t step on your toes.”

  She took his hand then, and let him lift her from the swing. Maybe she’d been sitting too long without moving, or maybe he hoped it was the song, but when her legs wobbled, he pulled her close against him. Wrapping his arms around her middle he felt her tremble. “Are you cold?”

  She shook her head and draped her arms over his shoulders, giving him a gentle smile. “I’m glad I took off my shoes.”

  “Hmm? Why?”

  Her eyes darted down to the floor before meeting his again. “Nothing. No reason.”

  He turned slightly, moving them so there was more of the moonlight on her face. “Hey, don’t hide from me, Jordan. Tell me.”

  “Old habits.” She rolled her eyes and gave him a silly little grin. “My hus- Ava’s father didn’t like me in heels. I mean, I was never dainty to begin with. Ava must get those genes from her dad. But me? I was a tall girl and that never really sat well with Steve.”

  Sweeping a hand from her waist to the curve of her lower back, he splayed his fingers ove
r her hip. “Steve,” he reasoned with all sincerity, “is a complete ass.”

  She eased into the rhythmic sway of their bodies in the dark of night, her laughter a soft, easy roll of sound. “No arguments from me.”

  “Good,” he pulled her closer, swaying against her, into her, “the last thing I want to do with you is argue.”

  Jordan lifted her hand and brushed her fingertips through the short-cropped hairs at the back of his neck. “Sounds good to me. There are other,” she licked at her lips and he could tell she blushed all the way from her cheeks into the roots of her thick red hair, “things that would be… that we could-”

  She pulled him against her, slanting her lips over his. And while the sudden movement shocked him, he was serious when he told her that he didn’t want to argue. He certainly wasn’t going to fight. Because when Jordan Schultz pressed her gorgeous body tightly against his all he wanted to do was lose himself in her.

  He let her control the kiss, let her set the rhythm, and when she pulled her lips away from his he didn’t chase after her. He waited for her to look up into his eyes and tell him what she wanted. He didn’t care what it was, but he would find a way to give it to her, just to make the moment last.

  “Vance?”

  He heard the breathless rasp of her voice and almost lost his own. “Yes?”

  “Let’s go inside.”

  He nodded, unsure of how else to answer. “Are you tired?”

  “No,” she shook her head, he watched the heavy sweep of her hair caressing her cheeks, “but I do want to go to bed.” He opened his lips to talk but she beat him to it. “With you.”

  He took hold of her hand and started for the door, stopping for a moment when she held back. Vance turned around to look at her, only to see her reach down and pick up his phone from the porch swing.

  “I wonder,” she teased him with a look, “how many more of my favorite songs are on here?”

  Vance’s gaze heated as he drew her closer. “Enough to last the night.”

  “Oh good,” she sighed and took the lead, shouldering her way through the screened door, “then I don’t have to go and grab mine.”

  Vance locked the door behind them as she pulled him down the hall.

  Chapter 5

  When Vance shuffled into the kitchen the next morning he paused in the doorway to watch Jordan as she danced around the space, setting the table as a speaker mounted under the cupboards blared out a song by Shania Twain. Jordan used her hip to bump the open refrigerator door and send it swinging closed. “Man, I feel like a woman,” she laughed and turned around, stopping on a dime. The rapid rise and fall of her chest drew his attention to the loose-fitting night shirt that stretched down to just a few inches below the apex of her thighs, and fluttered down around the bottom curve of her backside. “Good Morning, Mr. Donovan.” She leaned a hand on the counter and tucked her other hand on the swell of her hip. “Looks like you slept in this morning.”

  “I woke up alone.” He knew he was a hairsbreadth away from whining. “I didn’t like the feeling.”

  She blushed and he knew he’d never get enough of the way her pale complexion warmed with just a word or a look. And it wasn’t just her cheeks either. He was fairly sure that if he managed to get that nightshirt off of her in daylight, he’d see that the heat of her blood rising under his hands and his mouth would color quite a few parts of her body pink. And he was looking forward to the challenge.

  He reached up and rubbed his palm over the back of his head, letting his gaze run over her again, this time from head to toe, lingering a few places. “I wish you’d woken me up when you got out of bed. ‘Many hands make light work.’”

  “Well, I’ve seen your hands and work-”

  “Seen them?” Vance moved a step closer and watched her eyes darken. “You’ve felt my hands, Jordan.”

  She closed her eyes on a slow exhale. “I love the way you say my name.”

  He grinned and moved a step closer. “Well, I love the way you scream mine.”

  When she opened her eyes, he was a scant inch away from her and he felt the way her breath mingled with his. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “I’m not playing.” He lifted his hands, gathering the hem of her nightshirt as they rose, brushing the backs of his hands over her bare hips. “Jordan, you are killing me.”

  “That’s the last thing I want.” She slipped her fingers into the waistband of his loose pajama pants and his abs tensed under her fingertips.

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “Enjoying you while I have you.” She smiled and his heart stuttered in his chest as her hand slipped in up to her wrist, her fingers closing around his hard length. “And it looks like I have you in the palm of my hand.”

  Now it was his turn to close his eyes, his breath panting out from between his parted lips. And just when he thought he couldn’t hold back any longer she kissed him. She took his breath and gave it back to him as his hands pushed under her nightshirt and up to her ribs until the side of his hands grazed the undersides of her breasts.

  “Oh, Vance-”

  The front door lock jiggled and the door shook slightly. The two of them jumped apart and struggled to right their clothing.

  “You expecting someone?”

  Jordan’s wide-eyed gaze stared back at him. “No! I wouldn’t-”

  The door lock opened and the door swung inward. “Hey, Mom, I-”

  Vance had seen enough of Jordan’s Facebook photos to recognize the young woman standing in the doorway like a statue.

  “Ava!” Jordan stepped in front of Vance, and he had to admire her quick thinking. But he was also grateful, he didn’t want his introduction to Jordan’s daughter to be a half-dressed fumble in her kitchen.

  He didn’t want that for Jordan either. She was a good woman and didn’t need him to cause any more conflict between the two of them.

  “What are you doing home?” Jordan moved closer to her daughter and Vance stepped behind the table just in case. “You’re supposed to be on your way to Chicago.”

  That seemed to shock Ava from her stupor, turning her head to stare back at her mom. “My plans changed, Mom!” Ava stepped to the side, her eyes focused on him. “But I want to know what he’s doing here!”

  “I told you,” he could hear the concern in Jordan’s voice, “I was having a friend come and stay with me for a couple of weeks.”

  “A ‘friend.’” Ava added in her own air quotes just to make sure her biting tone was clear. “But that’s not what I saw.”

  “Saw?” he heard Jordan swallow across the room. “What did you see?”

  Ava threw up her hands in the air. “It’s all over Facebook!” Ava wrestled her phone from her jacket and quickly opened up her app. When she had the right post on the screen she held it up in front of Jordan.

  “Nora,” Ava continued, “posted a little video of you and your ‘friend’ kissing on the porch.”

  She was moving too much for Jordan to see the screen, so she took it from Ava’s hands. While she was occupied, Ava turned and glared at him. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?”

  Vance folded his arms over his chest. “For you or your mother?”

  Ava gaped at him, her forehead furrowing between her brows. “What are you talking about?”

  He looked at Ava for a moment, really looking at the young woman before he moved across the room to Jordan’s side. He watched the end of the video and then took the phone from her slack hands. “Hey,” he waited to see if she’d look at him, “Jordan?” He leaned closer and brushed a kiss against her temple. “You okay?”

  She turned toward him, her eyes widening in surprise. “Yeah, sure.” She swallowed, her throat working hard as she struggled to smile. “The video isn’t bad.” She looked over at Ava and gave her daughter a little shrug. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  “You’re kissing.” Ava backed up, as if she was building up momentum. “You’re kissing him on vid
eo in full view of the world!”

  Vance opened his mouth to speak but Jordan’s hand gave his a squeeze and he held his tongue.

  “Ava,” Jordan held out her hands, trying to calm her daughter, “sweetheart.” Vance saw Ava open her mouth to speak and both of them leaned back in shock when Jordan spoke first. “Stop. Just don’t.”

  “You don’t get it, do you, Mom?” She was seething. “Why aren’t you upset? Nora filmed you!”

  “Yes, she did.” Vance heard the pain in Jordan’s voice. “She filmed me. She took a private moment,” Jordan held up a hand to keep Ava quiet, “on my own porch of my own house. And she posted it for the world to see.” Drawing in a deep breath, Jordan let it out in a rush. “But there’s nothing wrong with what we did outside. I had a nice dance with a nice man. And believe me, I’m going to have a talk with Nora. But it’s not going to be about what I did. No. Nora is going to know how upset I am that she tried to take something special,” Jordan paused, gasping for breath, and he reached out, setting a hand on her hip and giving her a gentle squeeze, “and tried to make it something dirty. And you, young lady,” Jordan nailed her daughter with a look, “don’t get to come waltzing in here and add your own two cents to Nora’s garbage. I don’t deserve it. And neither,” she set her hand on his arm, “does Vance. You can do one of two things, Ava Marie Schultz.”

  Vance saw the way that Ava cringed at the use of her full name.

  “You can suck it up and apologize to Vance for busting in here when you should be in class. Lord knows I’m spending enough money at the school so you can walk around with your nose in the air at me. Or, you can walk right out that door, get back in your car and drive the to the airport and sulk… in Chicago.” With those words said, Jordan relaxed, the tension bleeding out of her body into the air. “But there will be no sulking or other craptastic behavior under this roof, am I clear?”

  Ava gave him a look he was pretty sure would have stripped paint right off of the walls, but she didn’t say a thing at first. He watched the bridge of her nose pinch and then the corners of her mouth creased, but he saw a change when she looked at her mother’s face. He watched Ava’s eyes as she searched her mother’s face and saw the change that came over her a moment later.