Bad Night Stand

by Elise Faber

  “Well.” He winced. “Sort of.”

  “We’ve spent almost every night together,” I pointed out. “And had lunch. And”—I smiled—“you’ve brought me breakfast nearly every day. Now that I think about it, just about the only thing you do with me is try to shove food down my throat.”

  His cheeks went a little rosy. “It’s important you eat. No more passing out.”

  “I agree.” I put my hand over his. “And thank you,” I said, joking aside. “I haven’t felt dizzy since you started making me fat.”

  “It’s nothing.” His shoulders came up and I put my hand on the one I could reach, stopping the shrug in progress.

  I didn’t want him to dismiss what’d he’d done for me.

  “It’s not nothing to me,” I said. “Thank you.”

  A moment of quiet then, “You’re welcome.”

  “Okay, since we’ve established the whole spending-loads-of-time-together thing. Which I think is dating, isn’t?” I asked. “What’s this about taking me out?”

  “You deserve a nice dinner at a restaurant. Maybe a movie or a play. Flowers. Whatever.” I didn’t stop his shrug this time. “You deserve to be courted, Abs. We did this thing all ass-backward, I know. But I’d like to change that. Start from the beginning and have a do-over.”

  I laced my fingers with his. “I don’t want a do-over,” I told him. “I like where we are now. It’s . . . easy? I’m not sure if that’s the right word and maybe this is completely too soon and ridiculous or I’m addled with pregnancy hormones, but I feel like I know you better than any other person on the planet.” I hesitated, biting my lip before I just decided to say it. “Maybe even better than Bec and Seraphina and I . . . I guess I kind of like it.” I made a face. “No. That’s a lie. I really like it.”

  Jordan was quiet for long enough to make me want to take what I’d said back. Then he turned his hand palm up and gripped mine tightly. “I really like it too.”

  I released a breath, feeling like we’d made a big promise that I didn’t yet know the words to.

  “Still, I wouldn’t mind a nice dinner.”

  His laughter filled my heart. “Good,” he said. “Tonight, I’m taking you on a date.”

  Twenty-Six

  “Jordan!” A tiny pair of arms wrapped tightly around Jordan’s neck and I felt my eyes burn, my hand coming to rest protectively on my stomach.

  “Sorry I missed you last night,” Jordan said. “You were asleep by the time I got here.”

  “I’m always tired.” Hunter’s little freckled nose wrinkled. “It’s annoying.”

  “Yeah,” Jordan said, ruffling his hair and leaning back. “I bet it is. Hey, buddy. This is my friend, Abigail.”

  “Is she your girlfriend?” The wrinkle stayed in place.

  Jordan looked solemn when he nodded.

  “Ew. Girls are gross.”

  We both laughed as Cecilia, Hunter’s nanny, came back into the room. “Hey,” she said, putting her hands on her hips, her voice laced with mock-outrage. “I’m a girl.”

  “Well, that’s okay because I love you, CeCe,” Hunter said, and I promptly fell in love with him. “What’s in your hand?”

  It took me a minute to realize that Hunter was talking to me and then I examined the little bear I’d crocheted and felt embarrassment course through me. His room was jam-packed with stuffed animals and books, all of which looked a hell of a lot nicer than the lopsided bear with unevenly placed eyes I held.

  “Oh,” I said, turning it over in my hands. “It’s silly, but when Jordan told me you were in the hospital, I-I made this for you.”

  Hunter tilted his head to the side. “Why?”

  I nibbled on my lip. There was something about the fierce way his eyes focused on me that made me feel like a bug under a microscope. “I just thought you might be a little lonely and want something to cuddle.” I resisted the urge to slide it behind my back. “It’s not much, really.”

  “Can I have it?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  I walked a little closer to the bed he was lying in. It was hospital grade, cleverly disguised with blankets and pillows to hide the institutional materials. But it was still a hospital bed, and that drove the seriousness of his situation home. I’d give this little kid anything he wanted.

  He took the little green bear with the goofy eyes and studied it closely. “It’s lumpy,” he said.

  “It’s the first one I’ve made.” I laughed. “I could use a little practice.”

  “First ones are special,” he said solemnly, and hugged the bear. “It is cuddly.”

  “Good. At least I got that right.”

  Jordan was still sitting on the side of Hunter’s bed and he tugged me down into his lap. “So tell me all about it, bud. What have you been doing this morning?”

  “Causing trouble,” Cecilia chimed in. She was sitting on the floor folding laundry.

  Jordan raised his brows and Hunter stubbornly put out his bottom lip. “I wanted to play with my aunts and uncles.”

  It took me a minute to comprehend that Hunter meant Jordan’s half-siblings, who currently lived in the house. From what I knew, they were all around Hunter’s age and would have been perfect built-in friends.

  “He wanted to play football with his uncles and aunts.”

  Jordan hissed out a breath.

  “I miss running,” Hunter said, and crossed his arms. “It’s not fair.”

  “I know, buddy.” The anguish in Jordan’s tone killed me. “I wish that I could make this go away for you. But—”

  “You can’t.” A sigh. “I know.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” I said, turning to Cecilia. “Can Hunter go outside?”

  “He can sit outside.”

  “No running. No jumping. No playing. No fun,” Hunter grumbled.

  I stood and tugged Jordan’s arm. “Give us twenty minutes,” I said, “and I’ll see what I can do about the fun part.”

  “Ready, Hunter?” I asked, adjusting Jordan’s shoulders so that he was standing straight.

  He giggled. “This is going to go really bad.”

  “Yes, it is,” grumbled Jordan.

  Which only made Hunter laugh harder.

  Cecilia tucked the blanket tighter around his shoulders then sat down in the empty chair next to his.

  Chairs weren’t the only things we’d brought out onto the patio, but I had used a lot of them in my plan. And rope. And potted plants. And . . . a blindfold.

  That was currently wrapped around Jordan’s eyes.

  “Okay, remember what to do? You tell Uncle Jordan what direction to walk and when to stop and try to get him through the whole obstacle course without running into anything.”

  Hunter nodded, his smile huge.

  “Try not to make me fall off a cliff,” Jordan said.

  Hunter broke out into peals of laughter.

  “The pool’s not too far,” I stage-whispered and Jordan growled, making Cecilia and me join in with Hunter’s amusement.

  “I fall in,” Jordan said, “and I’m taking you with me.”

  “You’d have to catch me first.”

  His arm snaked out and caught my wrist. He tugged me into his arms and pressed a kiss to my mouth, aim true despite the blindfold. “I always know where you are, sweetheart.”

  “Abby-dar?” I said, my heart pounding in my chest.

  He released me, fingers brushing the sides of my breasts as he set me away from him.

  “Jordan,” I hissed, “Hunter is right there.”

  “They’re not paying attention.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to where Hunter and Cecilia sat. Jordan was right, they were in heated debate, the words “pool,” “uncle,” and “no” featured loudly.

  “How would you know that they’re not—” I gasped, spotted one blue eye peeking beneath the blindfold. “You’re such a cheater.”

  He grinned. “A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.” He swat
ted my butt, pretended to stretch and then said louder, “Okay, bud, time to stop plotting. Should we do this?”

  “Yes!” Hunter yelled, eyes mischievous.

  “Wait!” I grabbed Jordan’s arm and fixed the blindfold. “No cheating.”

  “Woman—”

  “Walk forward,” Hunter commanded.

  I bit back my smile as Jordan took a step forward and promptly walked into a rope, knocking several chairs out of alignment.

  “Sorry,” Hunter said, maybe a little too cheerfully.

  “Hang on,” I told Jordan, and righted the chairs, then took his shoulders and aimed him in the proper direction of the course’s start.

  “You’re doing this next,” I called. “So you’d better be nice to your uncle.”

  Hunter’s mouth made a little “o” and just that quickly, he got serious about helping Jordan through the course.

  “Walk forward. Stop.” He turned to Cecilia and held up a palm. “What hand is this?”

  She whispered the answer.

  “Go right!” he yelled.

  “His right,” I said to Jordan, who turned left and managed to avoid the potted plant blocking the other path.

  “Now crawl,” Hunter ordered.

  Jordan dropped and attempted to squeeze through the cardboard box we’d found in the garage.

  The sight of Thor on his hands and knees getting stuck in the tiny hole I’d cut out of the side of the box was too much for me. I started chuckling and couldn’t stop. Not when he managed to struggle through, not when Hunter told him to go left and he knocked over a plant, not even when he managed to get wrapped in the duct tape I’d strung between two chairs.

  “Which left?” he called, covered in silver stripes like a metal mummy. He was bent over, trying to remove the pieces from his ankles and his voice was desperate. “Mine or his? Mine or his?”

  “His,” Cecilia and I managed to get out while still chuckling.

  Two more turns, one more crawl, and Jordan was free of the maze. He took his blindfold off and glared at me then Cecilia.

  “This is not that funny!”

  I held my stomach as I giggled. “My abs. Oh my God, laughing through that was the hardest workout I’ve had in months.”

  Cecilia rubbed her cheeks. “Even my face hurts.”

  “You’re in so much trouble,” he said and though he was looking at Hunter, I knew the words were directed at me.

  “You can make it up to me later,” I joked.

  He turned to me, eyes sharp. “You’d better count on it.”

  “Sniff it,” Jordan ordered.

  “Uh-uh,” I said, shaking my head and turning my face away. “The last one was bad enough.”

  My stomach was still queasy. I’d smelled twenty-something deodorants at this point and they were all bad.

  All of them.

  “This is the last one,” he said, offering it up to me like it was a piece of broccoli and I was a finicky toddler. “Smell it, and I promise this is the end.”

  “Promise?” I raised my eyes to his and when he nodded, I sighed in resignation. “Fine.” I carefully took the deodorant from his hand and removed the lid. I brought it about a foot from my nose and took a cautious sniff.

  Blegh.

  I capped it and shook my head, dropping it to the counter and backing away.

  “Damn,” he said. “That was supposed to be the unscented stuff.”

  “Well, it’s not unscented to me.”

  He dropped it into the trash can then removed the bag and walked through the garage to throw the offending deodorants into the outside garbage bin. A minute later, he was back. “What type do you use?”

  I was wiping my nose on a tissue, trying to somehow remove the scent from my nostrils. “Of deodorant?” I asked, slightly nasally.

  “Yeah.”

  I told him.

  “Do you mind if we try it?”

  “You want to put on my deodorant?” I asked.

  “Want is the wrong word. I’d like to be able to not stink my office up and also not make you sick. What you’re wearing doesn’t make you puke, right?” He shrugged. “Seems worth a try.”

  I stood up and inclined my head in the direction of my bedroom. “Seems like we should have given it a try before you made me smell all of those other gross ones.”

  “At least we did it before dinner?”

  I groaned, stomach feeling a bit raw. “Don’t mention food right now.”

  “Sorry.” He pressed close to my spine. “I’m trying to help.”

  “I know.” I turned in his arms and hugged him. “Thank you.”

  Hands slid down my back, cupped my hips. I wanted them to slide lower, to keep going and cup something else.

  Unfortunately, Jordan released me, taking my hand and tugging me up the stairs.

  “Jordan?” I asked as we walked through my bedroom door and headed for my bathroom. “Is there a reason you haven’t fucked me again?”

  His fingers spasmed on mine. “What?” He turned to face me.

  “I-I just—you haven’t seemed interested.” I shrugged, dropped my eyes. “You’ve held me and we kissed a few times. But it’s mostly—” I broke off.

  “Mostly what?”

  I grimaced. “Well, friendly.”

  “You think I feel friendly about you?”

  “I mean, I guess not. I just— We haven’t— Not since that night you—” I pointed south. “It’s okay. I just . . .”

  Was making a royal mess of this.

  “I’ve jerked off to the image of you coming against my mouth every night for the last three weeks.” His stare bored into me. “I’ve imagined the taste and heat of you. I’ve pictured myself inside of you.” He grabbed my hand, placed it on his . . . hammer, which was hard enough to pound nails.

  Or maybe pound something—someone—else.

  “I want you, Abigail. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

  “Then why haven’t you—?”

  “I was trying to give us time to get to know each other. We both have a lot of outside pressure right now. I didn’t want to add to it.”

  “I don’t think giving me mind-blowing orgasms is a bad type of pressure.”

  One brow rose. “Mind-blowing?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said. “I thought you were well on your way to redeeming you and your hammer skills. Then you backed off.”

  I waited to see if he’d deny it.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, his expression went thoughtful. He nodded. “I did back off. I think . . . I think that things have been so intense between us that I gave distance when I should have closed it. You’re not like any other woman I’ve ever met, Abby. You’ve got me so twisted up that I don’t know how to move forward.”

  “I—”

  “It’s not a bad thing. Just unfamiliar ground to navigate.” He cupped my cheek. “Like how you were with Hunter today—that killed me. You were so perfect, so sweet. Then I think about you with our baby, and I just get lost in this fantasy.” A sigh. “And then I remember we went from step A to step Z skipping everything in between and I keep thinking I owe it to you to give you B through Y. It’s almost paralyzing.”

  “I don’t need B through Y,” I said. “I just want to be with you. I want to know everything about you. I want to watch bad movies and crochet with you and not put any expectations on anything.”

  “I’m not used to having no expectations.”

  I couldn’t have expectations, not when every person in my life aside from Seraphina and Bec had completely obliterated the ones I’d had for them. I couldn’t expect perfection and happy endings, not when what I was developing with Jordan already meant so much.

  If I started dreaming of the other end of the rainbow, of picket fences and family holidays, I thought I might be thoroughly decimated when we were through.

  “I know,” I said. “But can we try? Can we keep moving forward without all the pressure of worrying about whether or not we’re doing it right
?”

  He nodded.

  “Thank you.” I rose on tiptoe to touch my lips to his.

  Jordan’s expression altered, turning a little hotter, slightly playful. “So no planning, right?”

  “Right. We just live in the moment and—oof!”

  He jerked me to his chest. “Shh. For now, we’re going to live.”

  And then he lowered his head to mine.

  Twenty-Seven

  Abigail in his arms was the best thing in the world. She was soft and warm and smelled like roses, and when she moaned against his lips, pressing harder against his chest, Jordan’s arousal went from hanging on by a thread to roaring out of control.

  He put his hands on her shoulders, tugging her back.

  “But—”

  One move and she was in his arms. He carried her to the bed, ripped back the comforter, then set her on the sheets.

  Pink cheeks, swollen lips, mussed hair. She would have said it was crazy, that her locks were out of control, but he thought the way they were spread out across her pillow was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  “Hi,” he whispered, coming down beside her on the mattress.

  Her mouth quirked up. “Hi.”

  “You’re so beautiful.” A roll of her eyes—another dismissal that was so typically Abby. He gripped her chin, forced her to look at him. “I gave you no expectations, so you need to give me this. You are the most beautiful woman inside”—he pressed his palm to her heart, felt the rapid thump-thump of her pulse—“and out.”

  “Jordan.” She sighed, covering his hand with her own. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Accept it.”

  A snort.

  “Now shh.” He kissed her before she could protest further, slipping his tongue into her mouth and coaxing hers to join in. The heat, the spark he felt at just the press of their mouths was insane. His entire body felt on the edge of implosion, just from one kiss.

  Her hands threaded through his hair, gripping tightly, and the slight bit of discomfort propelled him headlong over the edge.

  He found the waistband of her pajama pants, shoved them down, then tore his mouth free from hers to pull off her shirt.