Jordan let out a low moan, and then they moved together, setting a pace that drove her out of her mind in the best way possible. Desire spiked inside her as she realized she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. She held tight to his strong biceps as she arched up to him. Minutes—or hours—later, the pressure built to an erotic peak, and she felt like she might lose herself completely if she didn’t get a release from it.
Lose her heart if she wasn’t careful.
But it wasn’t the time for doubt or reality. Her heart pounded and goose bumps erupted along her skin as Jordan’s scratchy jaw traced a path down her neck. His breath was warm on her ear, and he whispered the sweetest words to her. Words that made her feel beautiful and wanted and drove her to the edge of her desire and then over. A thousand sparks broke over her like the bright light of a meteor shower, and a guttural cry tore from her lips.
A moment later, his breath caught and she felt his body tremble with release. She held this big, strong man in her arms as they rode the last waves together, and it was a million times more satisfying than the first time she’d been with him.
Because she wasn’t coming to him broken and angry the way she had before. She’d made the choice to give her body to Jordan from a place of power, and that changed everything.
For Cory, this moment changed everything, and that sobering thought was terrifying enough to have her shift under him. She needed to remember the boundaries. The temporary nature of their relationship—the fact that everything between them was pretend.
Except it didn’t feel pretend.
The way he dropped gentle kisses in her hair and continued to hold her close. It felt real. It felt like he cared, like she wasn’t alone.
Cory hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been until the warmth of him reminded her.
But she was still alone. A tumble in the sheets didn’t change that, and she couldn’t afford to believe it had.
She pushed at his shoulders, and he immediately rolled off her. She sat up and tugged the sheet around her, trying to control her rioting heartbeat.
“What’s wrong?”
Jordan’s big hand on her back burned like a brand.
“Nothing.” She glanced over her shoulder with a patently false smile. “I need to get dressed.” How she wished she hadn’t left her shirt and bra in the other room. “Thanks for...” She waved a hand toward him, looking ten kinds of a Roman god stretched out next to her on the bed. “I needed that.”
“Cory.”
“Ella is coming over later this afternoon. She’s agreed to watch Ben on the nights we’re both working. If your mom wants to stay with him, I guess we can—”
“Cory, stop. Please.” His hand moved to her shoulder, and he brushed her hair over to the side before leaning up to kiss her bare skin. “This was more than a physical release. You know that, right? We aren’t going to pretend—”
“This is all pretend, Jordan.” She yanked the sheet off the bed as she stood and took a step away. “Let’s not make more of it than it was. We’re two consenting adults, and this was...nice.”
“Nice,” he repeated with a wince. “I’m losing my touch if you describe the two of us together as nice.”
“I don’t want to describe anything,” she said, fisting her hands in the sheet’s soft fabric. “I don’t want to talk about this. We have a baby together, and we have to find a way to make things work for his sake. Your mom arrives soon, and your friends—my new friends—think we’re a couple. But we’re not, Jordan. This is all for show.”
He sat up, pulling the comforter over the lower half of his body. “You coming apart under me wasn’t pretend.” His voice was tight.
“You’re right.” She shook her head. “Which is why it can’t happen again.”
“I disagree.”
“You don’t get a vote.”
“Seriously?”
“Please, Jordan. I can’t do this right now. I’m working on myself so I don’t repeat the mistakes I made in the past.”
His mouth pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. “I won’t be a mistake for you, and I respect whatever choice you make. For Ben or for yourself. I know this isn’t easy.”
That was the understatement of the century. She looked down at her painted toes, because if she met his gaze he would see everything she felt. No way she could hide.
“Thank you,” she whispered, then backed away and added, “For all of it.”
Chapter Eleven
The Friday lunch crowd at the bar was the biggest Jordan had ever seen, although he took little comfort in it. Not with the black mood he’d woken to earlier after a night of tossing and turning and wishing Cory was in his bed and not the guest bedroom down the hall.
He should be thrilled about his full bar. Ever since Madison had started offering a Friday special of fish tacos on the menu, Trophy Room had been slammed from the moment he opened the doors.
There was no denying her expertise with the tacos. The fish, which she had delivered each week from Seattle, was served with a beer-batter coating that she fried to a golden brown and a tender, flaky inside. She accompanied the fish with a homemade slaw and pico de gallo and served the mixture on tortillas made fresh each week by a local woman in town. The bar smelled delicious. Laughter and conversation rang out through the room. When he’d bought the bar, Trophy Room had a been a redneck watering hole that was lucky to have a half dozen customers a night.
He’d transformed the business into something vibrant, a pub he could take pride in that was also part of the community. He’d made this place his home, and it would continue to be no matter what happened with Cory. So why was it so hard to get over her ease in walking away from his bed?
Jordan hadn’t lied when he told her that she was the first woman he’d shared it with, but that didn’t mean he’d been a monk since moving to Starlight. He preferred the term discerning. He dated casually, with women who understood he couldn’t offer them more than some mutually beneficial companionship.
Which should make Cory the perfect choice, since she loved to remind him that their arrangement was both temporary and pretend. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about how right it felt to have her in his arms, distracted like he was some lovesick schoolboy. He’d messed up three drink orders in a row, which never happened.
Josh approached the bar after finishing lunch with Parker. The Johnson brothers were Friday regulars, always arriving well before noon since they knew that once the kitchen ran out of fresh fish, the tacos were gone until the following week.
“Have you swapped personalities with your chef?” he asked, arching a thick brow.
Jordan rolled his eyes as irritation filtered through him. Finally, an outlet for all his pent-up frustration. “What are you talking about and what did she do now? I told her that if she didn’t adjust her attitude—”
“She personally served our food with a genuine smile.” Josh held up a hand to stop Jordan’s out-of-character rant. “We even had what one might call a civil conversation. I was shocked.”
“Are you sure it was Madison?” Jordan glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “Normally, the waitstaff doesn’t let her interact with customers. It’s ended badly more than once.”
“She brought me extra salsa.”
“I don’t believe it. She doesn’t give extras.” A customer at the far end of the bar rapped his knuckles on the countertop to get Jordan’s attention. Jordan flicked a glance in the man’s direction. “Make a noise like that again, and I’ll kick you out of here. I’ll be there when I get to you.”
He turned back to find Josh grinning at him. “See what I mean? It’s like Freaky Friday with you and Chef Maurer. She’s sweet as cherry pie, and you’re as ornery as a bear coming out of hibernation.”
“I’m not ornery.”
“Grumpy.”
“Or that.
” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tanya take the order of the man he’d just snapped at. “First drink on the house,” he called to her.
“Ya think?” she responded.
“How did Cory like the nursery color?” Josh asked.
Jordan’s heart clenched as he thought about the emotion that had filled her gaze. “It was good. Thanks again for your help.”
“Anytime. I’m having Parker and Mara and her daughter over for a cookout this weekend, if you and Cory want to bring the baby? We try to do a regular Sunday supper a couple times a month.”
Jordan blinked. He liked Josh but rarely hung out with people other than when he was behind the bar. It felt strange and somehow nerve-racking to be included, even for a casual get-together.
“My mom comes into town tonight for a visit,” he said instead of directly declining.
“Bring her along,” Josh said easily. “We might not be cutting-edge fun, but it’s family friendly for all generations.”
Jordan had barely spoken more than a few sentences to his mom in the past decade. It was difficult to imagine making her part of a social group he wasn’t even sure he belonged to.
As if on cue, the door to the street opened, and his mother walked in. He glanced at his watch, because she wasn’t supposed to be arriving until closer to dinner.
She patted her neat bob and clutched her purse tight to her side like she was afraid one of his customers might reach out and snatch it from her.
“Appreciate the invite,” Jordan told Josh, already moving to the end of the bar. “I’ll let you know if we can make it.”
Without waiting for a response, he headed toward his mom. It only took a few seconds before she spotted him. He tried to ignore the catch in his heart as her shoulders relaxed and her features gentled.
“Hey, Mom.” He stopped in front of her, unsure whether to lean in for a hug or what. His parents had never been demonstrative with affection, and he didn’t want to assume that had changed. Although, some quiet place inside him wanted it to.
“Hi,” she said, glancing around. “Your bar is crowded for noon. Are there a bunch of alcoholics who live in Starlight?”
He barked out a shocked laugh, then shook his head. So much for considering a hug. “We serve food. Fish-Taco Friday.”
“I thought bars served bowls of peanuts or stale popcorn.” She swallowed, then glanced up at him. “Do you know this is the first bar I’ve been to?”
“Since when?”
“My whole life.”
“Oh.” He thought about how little he truly knew about his mother and tried for a reassuring smile. “Well, welcome to Trophy Room.”
“It smells in here.” She sniffed the air. “It smells good, like food.”
“Fish tacos,” he repeated and led her toward the bar. “Are you hungry? How was your drive? Are you doing okay?”
He wasn’t sure how to stem the anxiety that had bloomed inside him or bridge the gap between them. His father had been such a huge presence in their household, it was as if his mother automatically shifted to the shadows. Even now, as they walked past a table, a man scooted his chair out to stand. The edge of the chair bumped her hip, and she recoiled with a gasp.
“You’re fine, Mom.” Jordan moved behind her, using his body to form a makeshift shield as they moved through the clusters of people. “I’ve got you.”
She smiled a little at that. “You always were a gentleman. I’m sorry if I’m acting like a ninny, Jordie. It’s strange to become accustomed to life without your father. One moment I think I’m going to be strong and independent, and the next I realize I’m the same wimp I’ve always been.”
“Mom, you’re not a wimp.” He rubbed two fingers against his chest. Her use of his childhood nickname hit him square in the solar plexus. “Don’t say that.” He waved as someone across the room shouted a greeting. “Let’s get you some lunch. It was a long drive, and you’ll feel better after you eat.”
His mother turned to him suddenly. “Are you happy, son?”
And the hits just kept on coming.
“Mostly.” He shrugged. “I’m proud of this place and what I’ve done with it. I know Dad hated when I left football, but it was the right choice for me.”
Kathy’s gaze focused on him more intently. “Does Cory make you happy?”
“Yes,” he answered before he could think better of it. Not that it mattered.
“Tanya.” He gestured to the bartender. “This is my mom, Kathy Schaeffer.”
“Mrs. Schaeffer, it’s nice to meet you.” Tanya seemed to have no problem giving his mother a tight squeeze. “It’s hard to believe this big oaf came from someone so lovely.”
His mom giggled at that. “He was over ten pounds at birth,” she said with a nod. “We were convinced I was having twins.”
“Ouch.” Tanya grimaced at Jordan. “You owe her, buddy. Big-time.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, I do.”
He saw the hitch in his mom’s shoulders. There were so many things they needed to talk about if they were finally going to get on the right track. It was difficult to believe that could even happen when he’d started off this new chapter on a lie.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” Tanya said to his mom, shooting him a look full of censure when he didn’t move. “I’ll have the kitchen make up a special plate for you.”
He gave himself a mental shake and held the chair still while his mom climbed up into it.
And the scene he never could have imagined—his mom visiting the bar he owned—came to life like it was always meant to be.
* * *
Cory was on her hands and knees when she heard the front door open.
Well, knees and one hand, since the other was throbbing in pain and nowhere near able to bear her weight.
Jordan let out a soft curse, and she called out a chipper “It’s fine. We’re fine” in response. The horrible scent of burned food and the gray plume of smoke coming from the oven told a different story.
She’d opened the windows and turned the vent above the stove on high, but smoke still filled the air.
“What the hell happened?” Jordan asked as he came into the kitchen. He looked completely shocked by the scene in front of him. Cory winced as she sat back on her heels.
“A little mishap with dinner,” she said, trying to keep the smile on her face and her voice light. She could feel the wobble in her chin and hated that she’d messed this up, even more so when his mother followed close behind him.
To make a horrible situation even worse, Ben began to whimper from where he sat in his high chair. He’d actually seemed fascinated by the smoke and the mess his mommy made in the kitchen, but now, with an audience, it felt like her baby was throwing her under the bus. As if his cries were voicing what should be clear to all of them—Cory couldn’t handle even the simple task of making dinner while taking care of her child.
“Hello, Kathy. I hope you had a good trip.” Cory stood and moved toward the high chair. “Sorry about all of this. I’ll have it cleaned up in a jiffy.”
“A jiffy?” Jordan murmured, his eyes going wide as he looked around at the destruction that included mixing bowls and a sauté pan filling the sink, in addition to the broken casserole dish and food exploded all over the floor.
“Absolutely,” Cory answered with more confidence than she felt. She felt no confidence whatsoever. “I have the bed made up for your mom in the guest room, if you want to take her there.”
With the embarrassment pouring through her, Cory forgot about the fact that she’d burned her hand grabbing the scorched casserole dish from the oven minutes earlier. She gasped with pain as she put her hands on Ben’s torso to lift him up.
Jordan cursed again but moved to her side with lightning speed and pulled the baby from the high chair. Ben’s whimpers turned into full-blown
cries.
“Let me take him,” Kathy said gently. “I’ve been looking forward to spending time with my grandson all week.” She offered Cory a gentle smile as she took Ben from Jordan’s arms. “I can find the bedroom on my own. You get that hand under cold water. Jordan will help you clean up.”
She turned and headed for the hallway with Ben’s fussing already gentling as she held him close.
Cory wanted to argue. She wanted to apologize again, to both Kathy and Jordan, but was too afraid the sobs she was doing her best to hold back would break free if she tried to speak.
She turned for the sink, but Jordan was already there. He flipped the faucet to cold, held his own hand under to test the temperature and then reached for her.
“I’ve got it,” she whispered.
“You should have had water on that immediately.”
She didn’t argue because he was right. She also didn’t pull away when he took her hand and turned it over to reveal two angry red welts on her fingers.
Out of the corner of one eye, she saw his jaw tighten, but his touch remained gentle. She sucked in a breath when the water sluiced over her skin. “I burned dinner,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I don’t care about dinner.” He didn’t take his hand off her wrist, although it was no longer necessary to continue holding her. “You hurt yourself. You have to take care of you.”
“I’m fine,” she said again, even though it had to be clear that she was anything but okay.
His thumb made circles on the inside of her wrist, the pressure featherlight. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
She shrugged as the water made her skin numb. It was easier to breathe, and she didn’t know whether it was the relief from the cold or Jordan’s comforting presence next to her.
“Ben went down for a late nap. He woke just as I finished the casserole, so I didn’t have time to clean up the kitchen. I put it in the oven and then went to get him.”
His Secret Starlight Baby Page 12