Unsuitable

by Lavinia Kent

  “No. I left before we were introduced. And you know why.”

  “Do I?”

  “Because of Clay. My dress was torn. I didn’t want to cause a spectacle.”

  “But you were leaving even before that, weren’t you?”

  “Only because he was there. You know that.”

  “Do I? Do you?”

  Didn’t she? A moment ago, Jordan could have said with certainty that she’d left because she wanted to avoid a scene with Clay and she’d only been heading to the bathroom when everything came to a head. She hadn’t really been leaving. Or had she? And why? Could there be any truth to what Veronica was saying, that it was about more than Clay? She didn’t think so, but…

  “When we were in high school you would have been visiting the families every day, figuring out exactly what was needed, how to help them cope. You would never have trusted somebody else to take care of everything.”

  “It’s different now.”

  “Why is it different?” Veronica was pacing faster. She’d always had an overabundance of energy, and this was a perfect example.

  “It’s different because I’m different. I don’t have the experience to be helpful in that way. When Mark was sick, I learned I couldn’t be responsible for everything. It’s better to leave things to people with the knowledge. And sit down. You are exhausting me.”

  Veronica stopped pacing but did not sit. “I don’t think that’s what you learned.”

  “Are you going to keep speaking in riddles?”

  Veronica turned and faced her head-on. “I think you’ve been persuaded to not trust yourself.”

  There might be some truth to that, but she wasn’t going to admit it. “That’s nonsense. I just know my limitations.”

  “That would never have stopped you from caring in the past, from showing that you cared.”

  “Nobody cares about people they’ve just met.”

  “You always did. It was why you wanted to be a teacher. You’d see a child and care instantly. You should never have given that up for Mark.”

  And now Jordan was beginning to see red, anger rose within her. “You’re going too far. Mark didn’t make me give up anything. I made choices for myself. Next you’ll be saying I married him for his money.”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth. I know damn well his money meant nothing to you and still doesn’t. Oh, you’re not a fool. You didn’t want to be poor. But you married him because he was a father figure, someone who could keep you safe.”

  All Jordan could do was blink. “You can’t possibly think that?”

  “You were nineteen when you married him. He was thirty-eight. That is, unless you really were after his money.”

  “Don’t you ever say that. I loved him.”

  “I’m not saying you didn’t, but—”

  “But what?” Jordan cut her off. “You’ve said father figure twice now. Do you really think I thought of him as a father? That’s sick.”

  Veronica finally sat, sinking back into her chair in one fast fall. “Why are you being so sensitive? Jumping to conclusions? And no, I don’t mean it like that. There is a big difference between a father figure and a father, but think about it. Your father left when you were two. Your mother died when you were seventeen. You think it’s a coincidence that you meet an older man who wants nothing more than to take care of you and you fall for him instantly and give up everything for him? That you never pursued your education, never did the things that would have helped you grow? And don’t think I didn’t notice that he was happy to keep you just the way you were, his adoring young wife. Come on, Jordan, you must have had these thoughts.”

  Only she never had. Her mind felt overwhelmed with the implications. For years she’d fought against all the gossip that she’d married Mark for his money. She’d always known that wasn’t true, but this was harder to deny. She’d always thought her marriage was near perfect. She didn’t want to question it now. “I loved him.”

  “And again, I’ll repeat that I know you did, honey. You loved him with your whole heart. Nobody who watched how you cared for him, how you still care for his daughter, could have any doubts about that. I also know that it hurt you to give up the things you did when you married him, to give up the life you planned. I think you persuaded yourself that you had to and now you seem a little lost.”

  That last was hard to deny. She still wasn’t ready to admit that she’d seen Mark as any type of father, but she had to admit that even more than two years after his death she wasn’t sure what the next step was. “I’m just finding my way. And everyone gives up things when they marry.”

  Veronica leaned forward. “I know you’re starting out on a new path, which is why all I’m trying to say is, give yourself some slack. I’ve gone about it badly, but if what you want is one incredibly hot younger man, why deny yourself? And if there’s one thing you can say about Clay Windsor that can’t be denied, it’s that he has a hot young body.”

  Jordan felt herself flushing. And why did Veronica have to keep mentioning young? She was all too aware of his age already. “And how would you know that?”

  “Honey, any woman with eyes knows that. But I’ve also seen him pull off his shirt after a game of tennis at the club. I’m surprised I didn’t drown in my own drool.”

  Jordan forced a little laugh. “I can’t imagine you losing control enough to do that. And I didn’t know you’d seen him recently. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Veronica’s laugh sounded genuine. “Why would I? He was just one more random gorgeous younger man. I didn’t know that he’d be the one you’d finally choose to lose your widow’s virginity to. But I will say, the man is scrumptious. So give in and live a little. If half of what I’ve heard about him is correct, you’ll have no regrets.”

  Half of what she’d heard about him? Regrets? “If it were anybody but him, I might agree, but it’s not like I’m starting fresh. Hell, I’ve known him since he was seventeen. He probably sees me as a mother figure—to go with my love of father figures.”

  Veronica spit out her tea. “You forget I knew you then. Nobody was thinking about you as maternal.”

  “Even so. And do you want to know what the worst of it is?” Jordan almost swallowed back her words, unable to believe what she was about to say. “I’ve never told anyone this—and I’ll deny it if you ever repeat it, I’d forgotten it myself until a few moments ago—but the very first thought I had when I saw him, when he was seventeen, was: there’s a guy who leads with his dick. He was seventeen, and I thought about his dick.”

  Veronica’s mouth hung open for a moment before she found words. “I’m sure you didn’t mean it like that.”

  Jordan leaned forward, placing her face in her hands. “No, not really. But I’ve been thinking hard and the first time I saw him I was in the pool with Amelia, and he was coming out of the house in swim trunks, and it was impossible to miss that he had a hard-on. I mean, it was impossible to miss. And then there’s the way he walks in general, the way his hips move. Whenever I see him, I’m very aware he is male, very unmistakably male.”

  “A hard-on? Really? I can’t even imagine.”

  Jordan gulped. “It was incredibly awkward. I had to look anywhere but at him. And then there was Amelia. I was already protective of her, and here she was bringing around a teenage boy who couldn’t hide how attractive he found her. I wanted to lock her up and send him away. Instead, I had to be polite and friendly.”

  “But not too friendly. God, I can picture it. You were trying to be the good stepmother and not come down on the poor boy too hard. Amelia probably understood what was going on and was laughing at the whole thing.”

  “God, I hope not.”

  “Have you ever considered that the erection might have been for you and not her? You were in that pool, too, you know.”

  “He w
as a boy.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that teenage boys never get turned on by older women? And you were all of, what…twenty-five?”

  “I was still only twenty-seven. I hadn’t had my birthday yet. But it’s a horrible thought.”

  “I actually think I would have found it flattering. And if he felt that way then, imagine what he feels now.”

  And that was a big part of the problem. Jordan was developing far too many suspicions about what Clay might have felt for her then, although she’d always been sure that his response that first time had been for Amelia. “And what if you’re right?” She tried to find the words to explain what she felt. “What if he did have a crush on me then? What if he still does? That hardly sounds like a good beginning to a relationship.”

  “Have you heard me use the word relationship? I’m talking about getting laid.”

  “I’ve already done that.”

  “Then let him be a fuck buddy. Friends with benefits. Nobody is saying you should marry him, but why not enjoy it while you can? I’m sure at his age he’s not looking for more. Let him help you get back into the swing of things. You had, what, two boyfriends before you married Mark—and unless I miss my guess, they were the hold hands and kiss on the front porch types. You need to learn about life, my dear, and I do think that just maybe Clay Windsor might be the man to teach you.

  “And if you’re worried about Amelia, you should just call her. Maybe she can fill you in on Clay’s secrets. And I’ll say again, given her life now, do you really think she’ll be upset that you’re seeing her long-ago boyfriend?”

  * * *

  —

  Living life. She needed to start living life. The words had circled through Jordan’s brain ever since Veronica had left. She wanted to pretend they weren’t accurate, but she knew they were. She’d certainly spent enough time thinking that same thing these past months. She walked to the back windows and stared out at the lawn rolling down to the beach. She would never get tired of staring at the water. It didn’t matter what the weather was like; the ocean brought her joy and peace. A fierce storm might be different from a placid afternoon, but they both helped settle her mind.

  The great house she’d lived in with Mark had offered an even broader view, but she was more than content now in her own smaller place, a place that didn’t require a live-in staff. She was happy to have the help she did, but it was wonderful to be alone most of the time.

  Alone.

  Was that really how she felt? What she wanted?

  She’d never been that way in the past. When she’d been young, she’d loved being with her friends. What had changed?

  She pulled a coat off the hook by the door and headed out, walking down to the beach to listen to the waves crash.

  Living life.

  A few weeks ago, she’d thought she’d been content, but ever since that first night with Clay, she’d known she was missing something. And maybe Veronica was right and he could help her find it.

  Although the problem was, she wasn’t sure it was just sex and chemistry.

  She might be inexperienced, but she was afraid it might feel like far more than that.

  And that she wasn’t ready for—although maybe she was just being a girl, thinking that because she’d slept with him she had to feel something for him. Besides, he was too young. Even Veronica’s comments had made it clear that he was suitable for one purpose only.

  Although…Her mind darted to glistening muscles, hard lips, and passion surging between bodies…It was a very important purpose. Her heart was speeding even thinking about it—about him. Was it only physical or was there something more?

  And then she laughed, hard and loud, the wind whipping the sound away.

  She had to stop letting her thoughts head in that direction. She wasn’t a sweet young thing anymore. She didn’t need it to be more than sex, more than desire. It wasn’t like she really knew him at all. She might as well decide that she was deeply in love with Chris Hemsworth or Chris Pratt or…well, any of those other Chris’s.

  Or that man walking down the beach with a whole pack of dogs. He was certainly handsome, larger and more muscular than she liked, but did that have to matter?

  She smiled and waved, wondering if that fat basset hound was Veronica’s Baxter. She had said something about getting a dog walker.

  Yes, she knew almost as much about some smokin’ dog walker as she did about Clay.

  And it wasn’t like she was after a relationship. No, it was time to think about the deeper issues Veronica had raised. Surely that was more important than sex. What did she want out of life? The answer was certainly more than a man.

  Although, having a man, or at least some regular sex, might not be a bad place to start…

  Chapter 11

  There was somebody waiting in the lobby of his apartment building. It was just unusual enough that his mind took note of the fact even as he strode by, intent on getting upstairs.

  “Mr. Windsor,” Roger, the doorman, called.

  “Clay,” a smoother, more feminine voice said.

  He stopped, turning slowly.

  Jordan.

  What was she doing here at his home?

  Even before he could fully form the thought, she was walking toward him, a shy smile on her face. “I’m sorry for just stopping by. I didn’t know how to reach you. I didn’t want to call the office—or your mother.” Her voice stretched a little as she tried to put humor into the last.

  Roger stepped forward, looked between them, nodded and then went back to his desk and his newspaper.

  Clay stared at her. “What are you doing here?” Even though Jordan had already answered the question, he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

  She pulled back slightly, stiffened. “I needed to see you. Is that a problem?”

  He let his eyes run over her. The dark wool coat, belted at the waist, defining her figure. Her hair loose about her shoulders in gleaming waves, begging his touch. Her cheeks pink, her eyes dark and shiny. And her lips, those full, biteable lips.

  He swallowed. “No, of course it’s not a problem. I’m just surprised.”

  “Lydia’s not waiting upstairs?” Her lips closed as soon as she’d spoken the words and he was sure she wanted to pull them back.

  “No, Lydia’s not upstairs. I’m not sure she’s ever been here.” That was shocking but true. Had he really been involved with her for months and she’d never been to his condo?

  “I find that hard to believe,” Jordan echoed his thoughts.

  He smiled, shrugged. “I do, too, but it’s true. We always went to her place.” It hadn’t even just been him. Lydia had always been far too happy to bring him to her powder-scented sheets. He’d hated that smell. It always left him wanting to sneeze. “But I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about Lydia. At least, I hope you didn’t.” His gaze focused on her lips.

  Her eyes dropped for a moment, lifted to linger on his mouth, then raised back to his eyes.

  He tried for a comforting smile.

  Her lips parted slightly, her tongue darting out to dampen them. “Can we go up? I’m not sure I want to have this conversation in a lobby.”

  “Of course.” He walked to the elevator door, pushed the button and swiped his passkey, standing aside to let her in as the doors slipped open.

  She stepped in, watched him push the button. “Why did I know it would be the top floor?”

  “It was the only unit available when I wanted to buy.”

  “And this was the only acceptable building?”

  “Okay, you have me. I didn’t require a penthouse, but it was one of the few places that met all my needs.”

  “I’m not even going to ask what they are.”

  “I’ll probably tell you anyway.”

  The doors slid open and they
stepped out, right into his foyer. That had been one of the things he liked. Roger and the passkey were enough security for him.

  He could see the surprise on her face. “Yes, I have half the floor.”

  “You’d think after all these years, I’d be used to it, but wealth sometimes still takes me by surprise. You should have seen me when I first married Mark. I kept carrying the dishes back to the kitchen and in the very beginning I even washed them once or twice. And I never did get used to someone else laundering my underwear. And always having people I didn’t really know in the house. And having everyone asking me what to do, when I had no idea. And trying to plan dinner for forty and…”

  She was rambling a bit, but he let her go, sensing that she was working out her nerves. It was an adorable habit. He still hadn’t recovered from his surprise that she’d come to him. He’d planned to contact her this weekend. He’d had the perfect surprise all worked out, something he still planned to do, but it was even better having her here.

  “…and not having to collapse and throw away cardboard boxes myself. That sounds like such a little thing, but I always hated it when I ordered something—not that I ordered a lot before I was married, but sometimes it was the best way to get a good price and then I’d get something little and there’d be so much shipping material—”

  “Can I take your coat?” he interrupted her, sensing that she’d reached a point where her nerves were winning.

  “Oh, of course.” A slow blush moved up her cheeks and she let him help her take it off.

  Underneath she was wearing a simple white cotton button-down and jeans, but against all explanation his cock was suddenly as hard as if she’d been in nothing but a black lace thong. Maybe it was the shoes. Her outfit was casual, but those heels screamed sex. He turned quickly, taking the coat and hanging it in the closet.

  He reached up to loosen his tie, wishing his suit pants were a little bit looser. The barest glimpse of smooth flesh at the neck of a cotton shirt and he was ready to explode.