by Elise Faber
It was probably better anyway. He hadn’t been home to shower and smelled horrible. God knew what that would do to Abby’s stomach.
He pressed the elevator button, head shooting up when it dinged straight away.
The doors open and Abigail started to walk off, only to stop and stare at him. “Jordan? Are you okay? You look terrible—”
“I’m fine. Just worked all weekend.” He smiled and took a step back, aware of his smell all over again. There was no way he was making Abby puke again.
She came closer and frowned. “You’re wearing the same clothes. No, is your shirt is different? But your pants—you haven’t gone home?”
“Got caught up with a project.” She reached for him and he put his hands up to shield her. “Stay back. I haven’t showered in two days either. I keep a spare shirt in my office, but that’s it. I smell and don’t want to make you—”
Her head tilted to the side, glancing down his body and back up. The slow perusal set his blood on fire and he suddenly wasn’t tired any longer.
“You”—she sniffed—“smell incredible.”
“What?”
Abby came close, her nose brushing against his throat as she inhaled. “Mmm,” she moaned. “If you smelled like this all the time I’d rub myself—”
Jordan coughed, put his hands on her arms, and gently set her away from him. He was rock hard and aching. “I—uh. As much as I like it when you do that, this probably isn’t the place.”
She put a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. Whew. Is it hot in here?”
“No,” he said, concerned now. “Are you okay?”
Her hand dropped. “Besides feeling like an alien took over my body? Hot. Cold. Aroused. Puking. This ride isn’t for the faint of heart, let me tell you.” She gave an awkward laugh and turned for her office.
He snagged her hand, slipping the briefcase she carried free of her fingers and taking her purse from her shoulder. “I’ll walk you.”
“Don’t get too close,” she said. “You might regret it.”
“That, I doubt.”
They strode in silence down the hall to her office. She opened the door and flicked on the lights. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He handed over her bags, hesitated when she turned her back on him and went to the window.
“I used to play out there, you know?”
He frowned, crossing the room to look out the window. Busy streets bookmarked by multistory buildings for as far as the eye could see. “Were your parents insane?”
She smiled. “Sorry, no. I meant there.” She pointed way out in the distance, to the vineyard-covered hills. “My father has an estate there.”
“Mine too,” he said. “Did you play in the vineyard?”
“All the time. And the rose gardens.” Her face turned toward him. “Hide and seek was the best. Though”—her expression dimmed slightly—“now that I think about it, no one ever found me. I always thought it was because I was the best hider, now I’m thinking that they probably didn’t want me underfoot.”
“Abby—”
“No,” she said, “it’s okay. I’m not going to get all maudlin about it. I’m well aware that my childhood was firmly in the realm of fucked up. But damn, how much of a dick move is it to send your daughter out for a game and then not follow her?”
“A big one.” He paused. “But, I have to admit, I’m guilty of sending my siblings off to play a game without intending to join in.”
“I think siblings is the keyword here.” She grinned. “How many of them lived at home?”
“All six of them still do. It was quite a rude awakening to come home from college and be assaulted by a gaggle of three to five-year-olds.” He grimaced, thinking of those brutally early mornings and being barely twenty-one. Going out, drinking too much, hungover, and. So. Much. Screeching.
“Does your dad share custody?”
“This probably isn’t the best conversation for us to be having”—he gestured to her stomach—“in our current situation.”
“No,” she said. “But I want to know anyway.”
“Of course you do.” He sighed. “Get ready for The Jerry Springer Show but in real life.”
She straightened her shoulders, turned fully to face him. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“I’m not sure if I am,” he muttered. “But here goes. Six baby mamas, six kids. Of those, two became wives, then ex-wives. Those two still live at the house, albeit in separate wings.” He rolled his eyes. “According to my father, they’ve bonded over what a jerk he is.”
Abby snorted.
“I interpret that snort as agreement.” Her lips curved into a full-blown smile and, damn. When she smiled at him like that, it took his breath away. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said.
Another snort. “No distractions, mister. You’ve started the family drama, you can’t stop in the middle of the story.”
“I could talk all day about family drama, just so you know.”
“Oh, I know,” she said. “Believe me. I know. What’s with rich people and so many skeletons in their closets anyway?”
“Too much money, not enough common sense?”
She laughed. “I think it comes along with the trust funds.” Her face went serious and she gripped his arm. “Promise me we won’t screw up our baby. Promise me that we’ll raise a well-adjusted, normal kid.”
“God, I hope so.”
He couldn’t help himself, not with her so close. Not with roses swirling through the air and images through his exhausted mind.
Abby’s stomach swollen with his baby. Abby holding a little girl with brown curls and hazel eyes. Abby in his bed. Abby smiling up at him like she was doing now. But she was in a wedding dress. She was his.
Jordan was spinning out of control. It was too much, these feelings that were developing. He should be running the other direction.
But he found he couldn’t.
And when Abby’s tongue slipped out, wetting her bottom lip, he couldn’t resist.
He had to lower his head.
That first touch of his mouth to hers was explosive. Desire flamed low in his gut, his mind demanded that he move quickly, that he strip her clothes off and kiss every inch of her. He wanted to set her on the edge of her desk and lick her until she came. He wanted his fingers, his cock inside. He wanted—
She whimpered and all of that heat tempered.
Because he also wanted to love and stroke. To trail his fingers across her belly, to press his mouth to the place their child grew. He wanted to cup her breasts, kiss her throat and the spot behind her ear he’d discovered that first night.
He wanted to make her come so many times that she was limp and satiated and their first horrible evening together was forgotten.
Horrible for her, that was.
His orgasm had been life-changing.
Hers had come from batteries.
She deserved more.
He gentled the kiss, soft brushes of his tongue, gentle nibbles of his lips. He teased and coaxed until she was soft and limp, resting against his chest.
And when he pulled back and she looked up at him, those hazel eyes warm, he felt a piece of his heart go off into the abyss.
This was a woman a man fell in love with.
Her lids slid closed, her arms slipped around his waist, and she inhaled deeply.
It was the perfect moment . . . until she stiffened and stepped back, hand coming up to cover her nose.
“Satan’s deodorant,” they said at the same time, and smiled.
Hers was rueful. “I’ll just sit over here,” she said, and plunked down in her office chair, rolling it a few feet away.
“I should let you get settled.”
“Nope.”
His gaze flicked to hers, took in her amused expression. “What?”
“Don’t think you’re getting off the hook that easy, mister. I need the rest of the baby mama drama if I’m going to have a hope of focusing for the res
t of the day.”
He laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Nope,” she said again. “I just love Real Housewives and this is definitely on par with that. So the two ex-wives live at the house?”
Jordan shook his head but acquiesced. “Plus, one ex-mistress. Along with Parker, Steven, Mitch, Gabrielle, Victoria, Theo, and Hunter—my nephew.”
“I didn’t realize Heather had any kids.”
“Hunter isn’t Heather’s. He’s Zach’s. Or was Zach’s.” Jordan forced his voice to stay neutral. It had been years. He should be used to it. “My brother was killed in Afghanistan five years ago.”
Abby winced and stood up, crossing to him. She took his hand. “Oh Jordan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that he’d . . .”
She trailed off and Jordan squeezed her fingers. “It was a tough time for all of us. We didn’t find out about Hunter until a year ago.”
“How old is he?”
“Seven and a half.”
“Damn.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. That seems so inadequate but . . .”
He squeezed her fingers. “Thank you.”
“What branch of the service was Zach in?”
Jordan stared out the window. “He wasn’t. Zach was a contractor with the Army. My father sent him over to keep an eye on their company’s prospects.”
Her inhale was rapid and pained. “Oh, Jordan.”
“I know.”
“So the argument with Heather about the contract—”
He rubbed his free hand on the back of his head. “I shouldn’t have gotten into that with you and Rich in the room. It wasn’t—”
She hugged him. Tight. For a long time.
Long enough for the strain in his shoulders to relax minutely, for his arms to come around hers. Long enough for the ice around his heart to begin to melt, for the dark, heavy hurt about his brother to recede slightly.
“I’m breathing through my mouth, I’ll have you know,” she said, startling him into a laugh. “I promise I won’t puke on you again.”
“I think I deserved it,” he said.
“Oh, I know you did. But a girl’s got to have some pride, you know?” She loosened her grip slightly and leaned back. “Thank you,” she said, softly. “For sharing that with me.”
He brushed a strand of hair off her face. “I hope you’re adding that to my positive points column,” he joked.
“You’ve been adding to that for a little while now.”
“I really should let you get to work.”
“One more thing.” Abby bit her lip. “Never mind. I’ve already been way too nosy.”
“What is it?”
Her cheeks flushed, she opened her mouth, closed it. “I was wondering about the other kids’ moms, is all. Wanted to complete my real-life reality show binge.”
“The other three weren’t interested in being parents. They took a payoff and signed over all parental rights.” He smoothed his thumb over the streak of red on her cheek. “But that wasn’t the question you wanted to ask and we both know it.”
“I—”
He cupped her jaw. “It’s okay, sweetheart. If we’re going to make a go of this, then we need to be open.”
“That’s just it,” she said and dropped her arms, stepping back from his hold. “I don’t even know what this”—she pointed between the two of them—“is. Are we dating? Are we trying to get along for the baby’s sake? Are we nothing more than strangers who got to know each other a little by pure accident?”
“We’re more than strangers,” he said, “and you know it.”
Her chin dipped forward. “I’m not really sure what I know anymore. A week ago, I hated your guts. Today I want—”
She broke off, shook her head.
“Abby.” He waited until she looked at him. “Today you want what?” Another shake of her head, but he moved close, refused to let her avoid answering the question. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
“Dammit.” She blew out a breath. “I want you. Okay? And not just your body—which I want to lick like a freaking Popsicle—but the rest of you. Or the part that I’ve gotten to know over the last couple of days. The sweet and thoughtful man who carried my briefcase into my office without asking and shared his past with me even though it was painful.” Her breath came in rapid exhales. “I want the man who kisses me like I’m precious and who looks at me like he wants to tear my clothes from my body. And”—her shoulders slumped—“I find that I can’t even dislike the man who was a jerk in my apartment. Not when I understand the context.”
She fell silent as he was struggling to digest all that she’d said.
“You like my body?” he asked.
“That?” she nearly shrieked. “I admit all of that, and you’re focused on that fact that I love your abs?”
He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re unbelievable.” She turned away, grumbling, “You don’t even know how to use your hammer—”
He growled and pulled her close. “I know how to use it. I just need a chance to prove it.”
“Been there, done that.” She crossed her arms with difficulty since he’d snaked his hand around her waist and was holding her against his chest. “If I puke on you, it’s your fault,” she warned.
“Noted.” He brushed his mouth against hers. “Abby?” Her stare met his. “I feel all of that too. And more. I want you. I picture you in my bed, in my shower, in my kitchen. I want you against the wall and spread out on your desk. But I also want the woman inside.” He touched a finger to the spot above her left breast. “The one who I’m still getting to know. The one who has a huge heart. The one whose eyes get sad when she thinks about her past and the one who isn’t afraid to sass me.”
“I—”
He touched a finger to her lips. “Let me finish?”
She nodded.
“I like you so much that it’s scary and I know that the stakes are high because of the baby, but I want to spend time with you. I want to know what irritates you, what makes you smile. I want you to show me the books that have made you cry, and I want to pummel every ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had.” He held her gaze. “I want that coach to burn in hell, and I want to see you cradling our baby. It’s crazy. I know it’s too soon, but I can’t stop myself from wanting to take the chance.”
Jordan dropped his finger.
“I can’t—”
His heart sank.
He should have known. These types of feelings didn’t exist in real life. Not in his life.
“—stay away from you.”
Her words hit his gut with the force of a blow.
“What?”
“Can we try?” She lifted a shoulder, her face earnest, her eyes laced with fear. “I think we owe it to ourselves to at least try?”
“Yes.” He hugged her tight. “We need to at least try.”
Twenty
Jordan paused as he headed to the door of my office. “What question did you really want to ask me earlier?”
My heart was both raw and hopeful, and though I knew it was probably a nosy question, I asked it anyway. “Where is Hunter’s mom?”
His blue eyes frosted over. “Left. Couldn’t handle it.”
“Handle what?”
“Hunter is sick.”
My hand came up to my throat. “How sick?”
Jordan shook his head and I knew. I knew.
“I’m sorry.”
I dropped my gaze to my hands. Such inadequate words. So useless. So stupid. Why had I pushed?
“Abby?” I glanced up.
“Thank you for caring.”
I nodded. “Go get some rest.”
He started to leave, paused again. “Dinner later?”
“I don’t know what time I’ll get off,” I said, feeling behind already. I’d come in an hour early and that time was now gone.
Not that I’d take any of it back, I just knew that this project was important to Jordan and didn’t want to screw it up
.
“Email me when you’re done.”
“And you’ll, what, be waiting around for my message?” I rolled my eyes and sank down into my office chair, rolling it with my feet close enough to my desk to reach my keyboard.
“Something like that,” he said with a smirk.
I sighed. “You know there are advantages to having a cell phone.”
He crossed his arms, leaned against the doorframe. “Name one.”
“Sexting.”
His jaw dropped open before he turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” I called.
“To get a new phone,” he called back.
Laughing, I shook my head and got to work.
I shut down my computer and stretched my arms behind my head.
“All right?” Rich asked, knocking on the doorframe.
“I’m great,” I told him honestly. “I’m loving this job.”
“Two days in and you’ve still got the rose-colored glasses on?”
I laughed. “So far, so good.”
“You out of here?”
I nodded.
“Cool. Me too. I’ll walk you to your car, if you don’t mind. I wanted to pick your brain about the placement of the new logo on the website.”
“Sure,” I said. “I noticed the parking lot was pretty dark on Friday.”
He nodded. “I just approved a work order for new lights. They’re due to start the end of the week. In the meantime, have someone walk with you.”
I slipped my feet into my flats and picked up my purse and briefcase. “Is there a reason that everyone keeps mentioning that?”
“We had a few robberies around the time of the buyout. I think that’s why Heather brought in the new security.” He lifted a shoulder. “I haven’t heard of any issues lately, but I don’t think it hurts to be cautious.”
“Of course.” I flicked off my light, smiling. “And thank you.”
He smiled back. “It benefits me, you know. I get a little more time with that graphic design genius brain of yours.”
I scoffed. “I’m far from a genius.”
“How about a natural? If you won’t give me genius, then at least give me that.”
“You’re a charmer, aren’t you?”