“I never would have thought you could be so Machiavellian.”
Vicki mimicked his previous pose, her palms facing him. “Keep in mind that I was always roped in. They were never my ideas.”
“Doesn’t seem as if you regret it,” he said.
A wry grin curled the edges of her sensual lips and she shook her head. “No, I don’t. Those were some really good times.” She took a sip of wine and asked, “How about you? Any regrets?”
Jordan laughed, but this time it didn’t hold much humor. “If I had to go through the list, we’d be here until New Year’s.”
“It can’t be that bad,” she said.
“It’s definitely not all good. Alienating lifelong family friends, marrying the most selfish woman in the world.” He shook his head. “I have to remind myself not to say things like that. I don’t want to get in the habit of talking bad about Allison, especially in front of Mason.”
“Even though she deserves it?”
“She does, but I have to own up to the part I played, too,” he said. Jordan moved his plate to the side and put both elbows on the table. He studied Vicki over his folded hands, contemplating whether or not he wanted to get into the morass of misery and frustration that he always fell into when he thought about his ex-wife. He decided that he didn’t.
He reached across the table and took her hand. Running his thumb back and forth over her smooth skin, he said, “I don’t want to spoil our dinner with talk of Allison. This is supposed to be about us, remember?”
“And exactly what are we, Jordan?” She slipped her hand away. She matched his recent pose, placing her elbows on the table and folding her hands. She rested her chin on her clasped fingers, her face serene.
“What’s behind the candles and wine? What were you hoping to accomplish when you set them out?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m not interested in playing games,” she said. She gestured to the table. “The wine, the candles... What are we doing here?”
It was not as if he hadn’t expected the question. It was not as if she didn’t have the right to ask it. But Jordan had been dreading it all the same. Because he’d asked himself the same question, and he still didn’t have an answer.
“I’ll be honest with you, Vicki. I’ve been asking myself that same question since you left here Tuesday night.” He ran a hand down his face, then held that hand out to her in a silent plea. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman, longer than I’ve ever gone. I wasn’t sure if that’s what was fueling my attraction to you.”
Her composure slipped for a moment, her eyes growing wide with outrage. “Excuse me—”
Jordan cut her off. “I know I sound like a jerk, and maybe I am.”
“Maybe?”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “The more I thought about it, the more I realized that needing a woman had nothing to do with why I’m attracted to you. Shit,” he cursed. “That sounds just as insulting.”
Vicki nodded. “Yes, it does.”
He squeezed her hand slightly. “Look, Vicki, I like you. I like you a lot. You’re great with Mason—”
“So is that what’s behind this? Are you wining and dining me in hopes that I’ll become a convenient babysitter?”
“No!” Damn, he was blowing this. Big-time. “I don’t have to tell you that Mason is the most important thing to me,” he continued. “Seeing how much you care for him makes a difference, a huge difference. But when I look at you, a caregiver for Mason is not the first thing that comes to mind. I like you because you’re sweet, and beautiful, and you have this dry sense of humor that comes out at the weirdest times. You’re intelligent and giving and you have one of the kindest hearts I know.”
Not letting go of her hand, he stood and walked over to her. Taking both of her hands in his, he lifted her from the chair and wrapped an arm around her waist, settling his hand lightly at the small of her back.
“The wine? The candles? They’re here because I wanted to make tonight special. Not just to thank you for helping me pick out a Christmas tree or because you held my hand while Mason was being examined.”
He looked into her eyes. “I wanted tonight to be special because for the first time in a very long time I’m sharing a nice meal and good conversation with a woman I find unbelievably attractive and funny and interesting. You deserve wine and candles and everything else that makes a first date special.”
Her brow arched. “So this is our first date?”
“I’m not sure it started out that way, but that’s how I would like to end it.” He trailed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. “You said you didn’t want casual. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for anything more. But I am.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He nodded. “Casual doesn’t have the appeal it once did. I’m ready for something serious. Are you willing to take this to the next level, Vicki?”
It felt as if hours went by as she studied him, but it was only a few moments. Finally, she said, “So how do you usually end your first dates?”
The smile that stretched across Jordan’s face was so wide it made his cheeks hurt.
“It’s been a while since I had a first date,” he said. “But if I remember correctly, it usually ends like this.”
He dipped his head and connected his lips to hers. The minute their mouths touched, Jordan was bowled over by the sheer softness of her lips, the sweetness of her delectable kiss. It had been so damn long since he’d experienced anything even remotely close to the feelings racing through his blood that he had to slow himself down before he attacked her mouth with the passion suddenly coursing through his veins.
Jordan closed his eyes and focused on the breathtaking gentleness of her mouth as it became pliant underneath his kiss. He brought his hands up to her neck, his fingertips brushing lightly along her jawline as he held her steady. He hesitated for only a moment before he swept his tongue along the seam of her lips and had his first taste of what awaited him.
A groan tore from his throat the moment Vicki parted her lips and let him inside. She was sweet and spicy and warm and undeniably sexy. His tongue moved with determination, sweeping inside the silky depths of her hot mouth, claiming it, relishing in it. His fingers inched up to the back of her head and held her head steady while he explored every delectable crevice.
As one hand cradled her head, the other traveled down her spine, stopping in the shallow dip at the small of her back before lowering a few inches farther. Jordan smoothed his hand over the curve of her firm backside before cupping it and pulling her to him. He held her close, his body instantly hardening at the feel of her stomach against his groin.
As his tongue plunged in and out of her mouth, his thickening erection mimicked the motion.
God, how he’d missed this.
But it was so much more than just missing the feel of a woman against him. It was this woman that he wanted, this woman that made it special.
“Damn, Vicki,” Jordan whispered against her lips before swooping his hands underneath her thighs and lifting her up and onto the table. Her legs clamped his hips, and their kiss grew hungry.
Hands, lips and tongues all collided in the hottest, most intense kiss Jordan had ever experienced. His body ached with the need to tear her clothes off and take her right there on the table. The urge to bury himself inside her obliterated all thought from his brain. He couldn’t think of anything else he wanted more.
And that was when he realized he needed to stop.
This was moving too fast.
Yet with every soft moan that climbed up from Vicki’s throat, Jordan felt that it wasn’t moving fast enough. She wanted this as badly as he did. They were two adults. They were attracted to each other. And, most of all, they both wanted it.
But he’d learned the last time that being swept away in a fit of passion carried a price.
Jordan moved back a step, his breaths coming out so harsh it hur
t his chest.
“That was...um... That was way more than just a thank-you,” he said.
Vicki’s dazed expression, her full, just-kissed lips, had him on the verge of finishing what he’d just started.
“I agree.” She nodded. “This is probably far enough for a first date.”
Jordan stared into her eyes. “I’m not stopping on the second date, Vicki.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I won’t let you.”
Chapter 7
Vicki measured out the dark blue ribbon that was threaded with gold, hoping she would have enough on the spool. Just under ten feet. She was cutting it close, but this was a last-minute job, so the customer would have to take what she gave them.
They’d better be happy she’d taken on the job at all.
Vicki could hardly choke back her resentment. The accounting firm of Crawford and Daniels had been one of her best clients. She’d provided weekly fresh flower arrangements for their lobby and decorated for several holidays throughout the year. Until last year, when they’d decided to go with a bigger florist in a neighboring town.
When the accounting firm’s office manager had called that morning, frantic because their new florist had dropped the ball and wouldn’t have their offices decorated in time for their yearly Christmas-card photo, a tiny, evil part of Vicki had wanted to turn down the job. It would have served them right for dropping her.
But she was a professional. And despite how satisfying it would have felt to be petty—and it would have felt damn satisfying, she had no doubt about it—she just couldn’t sink that low.
They would pay where it counted, because, even though she didn’t need the money, Vicki had tacked on a 30 percent upcharge for the rush job. She felt justified. She’d never given them reason to be dissatisfied with her work.
In a way, she owed Crawford and Daniels a huge thanks. The idea to enter a float in this year’s Christmas parade had been planted after they’d pulled their business. She’d decided then to show them—to show everyone—just what Petals was made of.
“Thank you for your disloyalty, Crawford and Daniels,” Vicki said into the empty florist shop. “It gave me the kick in the butt I needed.”
She nestled intricately painted blue-and-gold ornaments around the gigantic wreath that would hang prominently on the wall at the accounting firm. They were lucky she’d had the pine garland on hand. It was for a Christmas party she’d been hired to decorate for that weekend, which meant she would have to make a special trip to one of her suppliers so she could replace what she’d used. Maybe she should change that upcharge to 35 percent.
Vicki heard the front door open moments before Sandra and Janelle both walked in.
“Hey,” she called. “What are you two doing together? I thought you both had separate meetings.”
“With the same couple.” Janelle laughed. “The mother of the bride hired Sandra to design the dress and the mother of the groom hired me to coordinate the wedding. We didn’t realize it until we all showed up at the restaurant together.”
“Well, I hope you both told them which florist would be perfect to design the floral arrangements for the wedding,” Vicki said.
“Don’t we always?” Sandra said.
“When you have a minute we need to go over the list of floral arrangements we’ll need for the Woolcotts’ Kwanzaa celebration,” Janelle said. “Nancy wants to make sure the centerpieces on the buffet tables are completely different from those on the tables where guests will be eating.”
“That’s Mom,” Sandra said with a laugh. “Makes you wonder why she even hired you if she’s going to stick her nose in every little detail.”
Janelle waved her off. “I go through this every year with your mother. I know what to expect.”
“Speaking of my mother,” Sandra said, a sage smile lifting the corners of her lips, “Isaiah and I had her and Dad over for dinner last night and she said Jordan came to see her yesterday.”
Vicki cursed her stomach for the flip-flop it did just at the sound of his name.
“Oh?” she said. It was the sorriest excuse for nonchalance she’d ever engaged in.
“Mmm-hmm,” Sandra murmured. “She said Jordan could not stop talking about a certain florist. She said you two went tree shopping, then you helped him with Mason’s trip to urgent care.”
“What happened to the baby?” Janelle asked.
“Teething and an ear infection,” Vicki provided without thinking.
“So you have been hanging out with my brother,” Sandra said with an excited lilt to her voice.
“It isn’t that big of a deal,” Vicki said.
Although it was. Kind of.
Okay, it was a really big deal.
Over the past week she’d seen Jordan every single day. He and Mason had come over to her place for dinner, and on the nights they were not at her house, she was at Jordan’s.
When the float builder had delivered the base for her float yesterday, Jordan had dropped what he was doing and had come over to the storage facility she’d rented to house the float while she worked on it. They’d gone over her sketches and talked out the logistics of what she planned to do. It had felt amazing to have him there with her, to see his excitement over her project.
Other things she did with Jordan felt amazing, too.
They had yet to take that next step, but the kisses they’d shared over the past week were hot enough to melt every bit of snow in Wintersage.
Vicki turned her attention to the garland twining up the banister so her friends wouldn’t see the blush that was no doubt reddening her cheeks.
“So?” Sandra prompted.
“So what?” Vicki asked.
“So what’s going on with you and Jordan? How serious is it?”
“It’s nothing serious, Sandra. I babysat Mason and helped Jordan decorate for the holidays.” And nearly died when his hands crept up my stomach and over my breasts when he kissed me goodbye last night. “Honestly, it’s nothing to get worked up about,” Vicki reiterated, even as she stood there as “worked up” as she’d ever been.
“Are you kidding me? I think it’s great,” Sandra squealed. “I told you that Jordan needs to get laid.”
“Who said anything about him getting laid?” Vicki asked. Her cheeks were definitely red now. “I’m just helping him out with Mason. That’s it.”
“Are you sure that’s it?” Janelle asked.
“Yes!” No! She was doing so much more than just helping him out with Mason. “Goodness, would you two stop it!”
“Okay, okay, we’ll leave you alone,” Sandra said. “However, let the record show that I have absolutely no problem with whatever it is that’s going on between you and Jordan. Allison caused him a lot of heartache. He needs someone in his life who can show him that not every woman is like his ex-wife.”
“But Vicki said there’s nothing going on between them,” Janelle said.
With another of those knowing smiles, Sandra playfully lifted her brows before going upstairs. Janelle started to follow her, but Vicki caught her by the wrist.
She waited for Janelle to look at her before she asked, “If there was anything going on between me and Jordan—not that I’m saying there is, but if there was—would you have a problem with it?”
“Does it even matter?” Janelle asked.
“It does to me,” Vicki said.
Janelle’s eyes softened with understanding. “I know we all agreed that we would remain neutral as far as the election goes, but I can’t say that I’m not at least a little resentful toward Jordan. He’s accused my father of cheating. I can’t just pretend that I’m okay with that.” She hunched her shoulders. “It’s difficult, Vicki. My entire family is up in arms over the fact that I’m still coordinating the Woolcotts’ Kwanzaa celebration.”
“I’m so sorry this is all happening.”
Janelle nodded. “I’m sorry Jordan is still petitioning the election results. Every person who adds their name to
that online petition is like a slap in the face to my dad.”
“Have you looked at it from his perspective? He has—”
“Don’t.” Janelle put her hands up. “Please don’t stand here and try to justify Jordan’s actions to me.” Janelle blew out a weary breath. “Look, Vicki. Whether or not anything is going on between the two of you, I’ll be happy for you, but I don’t want to hear about how you think Jordan is right or that I should look at things from his perspective. I just can’t.”
Vicki nodded. “I understand.”
Janelle looked down at her from two steps above and caught her chin in her hand. She smiled, and said, “Your face has had a bit of a glow this past week. If Jordan is the one responsible for it, I am grateful to him for that. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thanks,” Vicki said.
Janelle’s smile dimmed just a bit. “I just want you to think about something.”
“What’s that?”
“What happens when things get back to normal?”
Vicki frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Once everything with this election is finally put to bed and Jordan returns to work. When Mason’s nanny returns. What happens then, Vicki?”
“I don’t know why anything has to change.”
“What about if Allison comes back wanting to reclaim the little family she left behind?”
Vicki’s head reared back. Where had that come from?
“Allison hasn’t been around in months,” Vicki said. “What makes you think she would return making demands?”
“Stranger things have happened,” Janelle said. “And you know what Sandra used to say about her. That Allison was like catnip for Jordan.” Janelle raised both palms up. “I’m not trying to influence you one way or another. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” She patted Vicki’s hand, then turned and headed up the stairs.
Vicki remained standing there, Janelle’s words playing over and over again in her head. Thinking about Allison and the influence she’d once had over Jordan caused a bunch of Vicki’s old insecurities to resurface.
Even more upsetting, she couldn’t help but think that Janelle had brought up Jordan’s ex-wife for exactly that reason.
A Mistletoe Affair (Mills & Boon Kimani) (Wintersage Weddings - Book 3) Page 10