by Tara Sheets
He clicked on the most recent e-mail, flagged urgent. It was from Chad.
Morgan Jr. is talking about stepping away from the day-to-day and handing everything over to the board. Yesterday I ran into a guy from Archer Anders at the bar. He was drunk, and started spewing some nonsense about them planning to swoop in and take over the account. Do you know anything about this? Shit’s about to go down here, man. When are you coming back?
Jordan sent a quick reply. I’ve got it covered. Call you later today.
He picked up his phone and began to dial Morgan Jr.’s number. He wasn’t concerned about the snakes at Archer Anders. Leo Morgan had been a straight shooter, and so was his nephew. They were decent people, and they knew Jordan did business aboveboard. They were trustworthy, which was more than Jordan could say for a lot of people he’d worked with in the financial industry. His own upbringing was so lacking in direction and stability, he’d learned that trust was a rare, precious thing. And once you had it, you did everything you could not to break it.
Chapter Twelve
Kat scattered corn for the chickens as the late afternoon breeze ruffled her hair. She was still in a daze about her visit to Emma’s house the night before. Everything that had happened seemed almost like a dream. Her insides thrummed with the possibility that she might finally discover her roots. She turned the idea over and over in her head. Really, what were the odds? To come all the way to this tiny island town in the Pacific Northwest, and discover. . . her real family? It seemed impossible. It was too much like a fairy tale. That kind of stuff didn’t happen in real life, and she’d do well to remember it. It was safer to stay practical. Then she wouldn’t be devastated when things went wrong.
She used to wonder about her real parents when she was younger. Did they ever love each other? Did her mother have the ability to communicate with animals, too? Kat used to pretend her mother had been just like her, so she’d feel less like a freak of nature. But as she grew older, she’d stopped thinking about who her parents might have been. Why bother? Pretending and wishing for that kind of stuff never changed anything. She’d decided to create the life she wanted, without them.
And yet . . . The image of Juliette’s and Emma’s joyful, smiling faces sprang into her mind. They’d seemed so sure she was part of their family. Their happiness made Kat wish it were true.
As if sensing her heavy mood, Waffles ambled over and nudged her leg. Then Hank trotted into the pen and sat beside her, while the chickens pecked at the corn. All the animals seemed comfortable with one another, which lifted Kat’s spirits.
She lowered herself to the ground, petting Hank and scratching Waffles behind the ears. The wonderful thing about animals was that they didn’t judge. They simply accepted. Animals were her family. She could always count on them.
The old farm pickup truck came barreling down the gravel driveway, and Kat turned to see Jordan pulling up to the house.
The truck windows were rolled down, and an old song about Jack and Diane was blasting on the radio. Jordan’s left hand was tapping the side of the door in time to the music. In sunglasses, with his windblown hair all mussed up, Kat couldn’t help but stare. It wasn’t just that he looked ridiculously sexy in that rusted old truck; he seemed carefree and content. No matter how many times he said he wasn’t going to stay, Kat couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to leave. If she’d had ties to a place like this, she’d never want to be anywhere else.
Jordan cut the engine and got out of the truck.
Opal was at one of her community center events, so this afternoon they were alone on the farm. Together. Kat ignored the shiver of awareness that skittered up her spine.
They hadn’t spoken to each other since that almost-kiss at the campfire a few nights ago, and as far as Kat was concerned, that was a good thing. If enough time lapsed between that craziness, they could both pretend nothing was between them.
She sat very still, grateful that he didn’t notice her before he went into the farmhouse. When the turquoise door closed behind him, she exhaled in relief. It was so stupid for her to be tiptoeing around him as if she’d done something crazy. She hadn’t. Neither of them had. Sure, the idea of throwing caution to the wind and jumping his bones, licking melted marshmallow off his lips, running her hands over his muscular back, had crossed her mind a time or twenty, but that was all safely tucked away in her mind. No harm, no foul.
In fact, Kat decided as she stood and smacked dust off her black jeans, they might even get along eventually, as normal roommates.
“What the ever-living hell?” Jordan’s voice boomed from the open window on the second floor.
Kat stood up quickly and went toward the gate.
Jordan came storming out of the front door, glowering like the god of fire and brimstone. He started toward Kat’s apartment.
“I’m over here,” she called, striding across the grass from the barn. Hank and Waffles followed behind her.
Jordan whirled, his whiskey-colored eyes flashing. Dark, unruly hair framed his suntanned face, and he so perfectly fit Kat’s initial impression of an enchanted beast, she almost smiled. Almost.
“What’s wrong?” Kat asked. He clearly had a bone to pick with her. An entire carcass, from the looks of it. She braced for it.
“There is a cat in my house,” he said with a grimace.
“Yes.” She shrugged, like it was no big deal. Because it wasn’t. What guy would get so worked up about a cat? “Opal said I could bring her to the house, so I did.”
“Come with me.” Jordan waved her over and stalked back toward the house.
She followed, because as grumpy as he was, she was worried about Clementine. The poor thing needed peace and quiet and as few disruptions as possible.
He left the front door wide open and took the stairs.
Kat hurried after him. When she reached the top of the landing, he was already standing at the far end of the hall, holding a door and waiting for her.
“In here.” His voice was low and controlled, but there was a thread of frustration in it that she didn’t miss.
“Is that your bedroom?”
“Yes. And that,” he said, pointing to the large bed in the middle of the room, “is my bed.” It was a mahogany four-poster with a gray comforter and a blue fleece throw piled in the center. And in the middle of that rumpled blanket was Clementine . . . and kittens.
Kat gasped with delight and pushed past Jordan.
Five brand-new kittens nestled next to their mother. Clementine was tired, but Kat could sense her pride and contentment.
“Oh, Clementine, look at your sweet babies.” Kat climbed onto the bed and reached out to stroke a finger between Clementine’s ears. “I’m so happy for you.”
Clementine started to purr.
Jordan cleared his throat from the doorway. “I don’t know how this happened, but they have to go. Now.”
Kat spun around, gaping. “She’s just had her kittens. You can’t move her yet. They’re all in a very delicate condition.”
“This is my room,” he said evenly. “I’m allergic to cats.”
Before she could respond, Hank came flying into the bedroom, running in joyful circles around them.
Jordan crossed his arms, sighing. “And now your dog has joined us.”
She gave him an apologetic smile. “I must’ve left the door open when I followed you into the house.”
Suddenly they heard footsteps clattering on the hardwood floors downstairs. No . . . Kat realized with a dawning sense of alarm. Hoof steps.
Loud, pitiful braying began echoing through the house.
“No.” Jordan’s voice was thick with incredulity. “If that animal—”
“He won’t come upstairs,” Kat assured him. “Donkeys aren’t able to navigate long flights of stairs. That’s why he’s so upset. He wants to be up here where the party is.”
“This is no party.”
Hank began to bark.
Ear-piercing hee-haws pun
ctuated the air.
Clementine began meowling her disapproval.
Kat took one look at Jordan’s face and said, “I’ll take care of it.” She scooped up Hank, raced down the stairs, and shooed Waffles out the front door. Then she sent Hank after him into the yard, firmly shut the door, and ran back to Jordan’s room.
She leaned against the doorframe, slightly out of breath. “I’m sorry about that.”
He was standing over the bed, hands on hips, looking at the cats like a disgruntled king surveying disloyal subjects. “Your cats have to go. Now.”
“Technically they’re your grandmother’s cats. Opal’s a volunteer for the shelter now.” Kat knew she was treading on thin ice, but she couldn’t move Clementine and the kittens yet, and she needed to make him understand. “They just need a little bit more time,” she said calmly. “Can’t you sleep somewhere else? It would just be for a couple of days.”
Jordan’s back went rigid. “You don’t seem to realize what you’re asking me. I work in here.” He gestured to the laptop computer on the simple wooden desk near the window. “This is my private space. In twenty minutes I’ll be coughing and sneezing and miserable. If you won’t move them, I will.” He brushed past Kat and walked toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“To get a box.”
“No!” She ran after him. “The kittens are barely hours old. Would it be so hard just to give them a little extra time? Can’t you take your laptop and work in another room for just a couple of days?”
He ignored her, charging down the stairs. When he came to a door in the hall, he swung it open to reveal a broom closet with supply shelves on either side. He began rummaging around, shoving aside baskets and cleaning bottles. Finally he lifted a box full of towels and turned it upside down, emptying the towels onto the floor.
Kat’s concern for Clementine and the kittens quickly escalated to frustration. Then annoyance. She stepped into the broom closet and gripped the edge of the box he was holding. “You have an entire house at your disposal. There are other rooms upstairs. Can’t you just show a little patience?”
“Patience?” He gave her an incredulous look, tugged the box out of her hand, and set it on a shelf out of her reach. “Ever since you moved in here, you’ve been testing my patience. You weren’t even living here before you insisted I build a new coop for the chickens. Then you bring your dog without asking. You sneak a pregnant cat into the house and sign my grandmother up as a pet volunteer. You intrude on my campfire—”
“Oh, I intruded ?” Kat jammed her hands on her hips, angry heat flooding her face. “You didn’t seem so eager to have me leave when you handed me a beer and we made s’mores together.”
For several heated seconds they stared at each other, as if both were remembering the moment in front of the fire where they’d almost kissed.
Jordan leaned toward her, his broad shoulders blocking her view of the shelves behind him. “And now today,” he said silkily, “you and your animals have taken over my bedroom.”
He was standing so close. Kat could practically feel her heart thumping against her rib cage. “It’s just one cat and a few kittens,” she managed. “I’m sure you can survive a couple of days.”
He cocked his head, studying her as if he were trying to decide what to do with her. “I shouldn’t have to survive. I should be able to sleep in my bed tonight. This is your fault.”
“It’s not like I planned for this to happen,” Kat said in exasperation. “I’m not the one who chose your bed.”
Something changed in the air between them, a languid, sensual shift that prickled the hairs on the back of her neck.
“If you had chosen my bed,” he murmured, a wicked glint in his eyes, “we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Kat swallowed hard. The closet suddenly seemed to grow smaller . . . and warmer. Or was that heat coming from him? He was so big, looming over her like some gorgeous, avenging angel about to demand surrender. And he smelled divine—woodsy and fresh, like evergreens in sunlight. She wanted to grab fistfuls of his shirt, yank him closer, and breathe him in. The Queen of Impulsive Decisions let out a tinkling laugh.
Kat licked her lips nervously.
Jordan’s heavy-lidded gaze dropped to her mouth.
“Forget it,” she whispered.
His mouth kicked up at one corner. “I didn’t say anything.”
“I’m not kissing you, so just forget it.” Kat was trying to act calm and cool, but her voice sounded too breathy.
He lifted a brow in sensual amusement. “I was going to say something else, but now that you mention kissing . . .”
Kat’s face flushed with heat. She lowered her head and feigned a sudden interest in the floor tiles. Fascinating shade of beige, those. “Never mind. What were you going to say?”
“No more animals.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
His expression was stern, which should’ve done something to alleviate the crazy, animal attraction she was feeling, but it just seemed to enhance it. “I’ll let the cats stay where they are for two days, but don’t bring anything else home. I’m trying to fix this house up and get it ready to sell. I can’t keep tripping over your animals. There’s no room.”
“There’s plenty of room.” She tilted her head back to glare at him, but it was hard to look down on someone when the top of your head barely reached their shoulders. “We’re on a farm with hardly any animals, if you haven’t noticed. Even the paddock is empty.”
“Don’t bring any more pets home, Kat. I mean it.”
She thought of all the unwanted animals that would be coming through the shelter and all the unused space on the farm. Why was he being so difficult? He was leaving soon, anyway. It shouldn’t matter to him if there were some extra animals around.
She gathered her courage. “No.”
He jerked his chin back slightly in surprise. “No?”
“You heard me. I can’t promise that.” She tried to appear nonchalant, but it was almost impossible when he was standing so close. All she had to do was rise up on her tiptoes and it would be so easy to press her lips against the hollow at the base of his neck to find out if it was as warm and smooth as it looked. Focus!
Kat swallowed hard. “Opal said she’d volunteer for any other animals who might need homes. And this is her house, too.”
He lazily braced his hands on the shelf behind her head. “You’re telling me that you’re willfully going to ignore my request?”
“Yup.”
“I am so glad you said that.” His voice was deeply satisfied, like the purr of a jungle cat. All Kat’s nerve endings went on high alert.
She glanced up sharply. “Why?”
“Because it’s settled. And now we can go with your idea.” In one swift move, Jordan leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.
Kat stood frozen in the moment, aware of nothing but the warm, soft caress of his mouth. The rasp of his flannel shirt against her bare arms. The crisp scent of pine soap and warm, male skin. His kiss was subtle, yet insistent. Coaxing. Intoxicating. Heat bloomed inside her, spiraling out in every direction like a sensual drug too powerful to resist. She slid her hands around his neck and pressed closer.
A low growl came from Jordan’s throat. He drew her against his hard, muscular body, molding her to him as he deepened the kiss.
Kat dug her fingers through his hair, glorying in the rich, silky feel of it and the slow, sweet glide of his tongue. An ongoing wave of pure, delicious sensation rippled over her, one kiss barely over before the next one began.
When Jordan slid a large, warm hand under the back of her T-shirt to caress her bare skin, she let out a tiny gasp of pleasure. He pulled back slightly, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick her lower lip as if he could taste the pleasure on her mouth. Kat’s knees went weak. This was madness; she knew it. But she just couldn’t bring herself to care. All rational thoughts seemed to slip away like wispy clouds
on a stiff breeze, until the only things left were the hot, bright taste of him and the feel of his powerful arms around her and the thudding beat of her heart. In that moment, only one thing was achingly clear.
Jordan Prescott knew how to kiss.
Chapter Thirteen
By the time Kat stumbled out of the broom closet, she’d felt as dazed and wobbly as a newborn colt. Who could blame her? She’d just been kissed to kingdom come by an enchanted beast who somehow managed to make her forget reason. She felt like he’d woven some kind of spell over her with those drugging, sensual kisses that were so addicting they should be illegal.
Her breath came in little pants. His chest rose and fell. They stared at each other as if coming out of some kind of dream.
Kat was the first to take action. Without a word, she turned and walked out of the house. Across the lawn. Up the stairs to her apartment. When she finally closed the door behind her, she leaned against it and slid to the floor.
What in the holy heart attack had just happened? You kissed a man and he knocked your socks off, the Queen of Impulsive Decisions sighed dreamily. Kat squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pretend it didn’t happen, but her lips felt swollen and her limbs were shaky.
Someone knocked at the door, and she jumped.
There was no peephole to see who it was, so she waited.
The knock came again. Was it Jordan? Had he followed her to her apartment? A bolt of alarm shot through her. She didn’t want him to see that the apartment was still empty.
“Kat?” Juliette’s voice called.
Kat scrambled for the doorknob. She cracked the door a few inches and peered out.
Juliette stood on the other side with a box in her arms. She wasn’t covered in leaves and dirt yet, which meant she was probably on her way to work.
Great. Kat didn’t want Juliette to see her apartment, either. The last thing she needed was someone’s pity. Maybe she could just have a conversation with Juliette outside. “Oh, hey, Juliette,” Kat said. “How’s it going?”