Chapter 15
fifteen
JORDAN
“Jay, what are you doing?”
Marilee’s question echoes in my mind throughout breakfast, where Ryder enthusiastically devours three pancakes drenched in syrup and chocolate while passionately defending Captain America as the superior superhero. He talks for fifteen solid minutes, his eyes sparkling with excitement, and Marilee engages with him wholeheartedly, her laughter bubbling out like sweet sunshine.
But my focus drifts, lost in a web of emotions.
I catch glimpses of the confusion she wears like a lovely pendant—her little smile when I asked if she was ready felt muted, a flicker that didn’t reach her eyes. The slight crease above her brow tells me something is off. She’s wrestling with worries, perhaps even with the unspoken something that simmers between us.
I’ve been trying to heed Mom’s advice: take it slow, don’t scare her off with the force of my feelings. But every day spent as just friends gnaws at me. I can sense her shifting too. She might finally see me as more than the boy I used to be—after all, her reaction to me without a shirt was unmistakable.
Before breakfast, because I really don’t want to make her uncomfortable, I hastily pulled on a shirt, and I noticed the flicker of relief that washed over her… And I’m not sure what that means. So maybe I’m just as confused as she is.
This is getting stupid, and maybe it’s time to take a leap, to risk everything for a chance at something genuine between us. To make things ultra clear about how I feel about Marilee Moffitt.
After Ryder dashes off to play in his room, I seize my moment, speaking before Marilee can escape the lingering suspense between us. “Hey, about that glamping site I’m checking out next weekend…” I say, knowing that it also happens to be Valentine’s Day, a detail that adds sweet, sticky weight to my invitation.
“Yeah?” She stacks Ryder’s syrupy plate atop hers before reaching for mine.
Instead of handing it over, I get to my feet and grab all three plates. “I got to thinking.” I walk the dishes to the sink, set them on the counter, and flick on the water to warm.
“And?” Marilee follows me into the kitchen.
“I was wondering if you wanted to come along.” After a quick exhale, I continue, my heart galloping at the chance she’ll say no. Reject me. Maybe I need to make it as non-threatening as possible. “I mean, this is a really lucrative opportunity for my business, and I’m hoping it’ll work out, but I really value your opinion. So, if you’re willing…”
At her silence, I turn to find her back to me, standing in front of the kitchen island, hands gripping the counter as if seeking balance. Shoot. Have I upset her somehow?
I turn off the water in the sink and approach her. “Lee?”
When she turns, her eyes glisten. “You care about my opinion?”
“Why does that surprise you?”
“Because you’re the one with the business degree. You’re organized, you make good decisions. Look at you—your life is always in order. And then, there’s me, my life. My mess.”
“Stop.” I reach up to gently place a finger against her soft, smooth mouth—the mouth I dream of kissing again. It’s been more than two weeks since Frederick and Chloe’s engagement party, but my lips remember the taste of hers.
The memory sends sparks racing through me.
Her eyes widen, and the air shifts around us as it takes longer than it should for me to drop my hand.
“Lee, I need you to hear me,” I say softly, my gaze locked onto hers. “Your opinion matters more to me than anyone else’s. The way you see the world—it’s a perspective I treasure. It’s different from mine, and that makes it all the more valuable. So.” I tilt my head. “Will you come?”
Her bottom lip begins to worry between her teeth, a gesture that tightens my chest with longing. This moment is too intense, and I suddenly realize how crucial it is for us to balance this heaviness with a splash of the fun that’s always been part of our relationship. My eyes dart to the jar of chocolate sauce behind her. An idea strikes.
“Or do I need to threaten you?” I tease, reaching around her to drag the jar closer.
“Threaten me with what?”
“A good chocolate-ing, of course.”
“What?” She bursts out laughing, and it’s like music, a balm to the tension that envelops us.
Dipping my finger into the chocolate, I playfully lift it to her face, the air thick with laughter and potential. “Yep. Comply, or suffer the sweet consequences.”
Her cute little hands fly to her hips, a defiant spark dancing in her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” I wiggle the chocolate tantalizingly in front of her face.
“Jordan!” Quick as lightning, Marilee ducks from my reach, grabbing hold of the bowl of blueberries, one hand poised over the fruit as if preparing to defend herself with it.
I lick the chocolate off my finger, savoring its sweetness as it melts on my tongue. “What? At least it’s tasty.”
“Of course it is. I made it.” She sets down the berries and tilts her chin, a playful challenge glinting in her eyes, before rolling them dramatically. “And I know you. You wouldn’t waste a perfectly good sweet treat on a food fight.”
Grabbing the chocolate once more, I advance toward her, heart racing as I set the jar down behind her. The space between us closes quickly as I pin Marilee against the counter, arms locked on either side of her. “Not sure you know me as well as you think, Lee.”
“Fine, but I do know you wouldn’t want to get your clean hoodie—well, clean-ish—dirty.” She shimmies her shoulders airily, her taunt crackling in the air.
Oh, that hoodie—what a delightful distraction it’s become. Because the sight of her wearing my clothes definitely does something to my insides.
“Easy fix.” With another mischievous grin, I unzip the hoodie with a swift motion, letting it slide off her shoulders until it falls to the ground, exposing her smooth bare arms. “Not so tough now, are we?”
Her gaze locks onto mine, a mix of laughter and shock flitting across her face, and I can’t resist. I dive into the chocolate once more, artistry taking over as I paint her face—a streak across her forehead, a swipe on both cheekbones, another playful smear along her chin.
“Jordan,” she squeals, laughter bubbling from her as she pushes against my chest, but I can tell she’s not truly trying to escape. A thrill runs through me, and I continue, letting my thumb glide down both sides of her neck, trailing along each earlobe, skating across her delicate collarbone. Goosebumps pop beneath my fingers as they explore the ridges of her shoulders and the skin of her upper arms.
Finally, I finish my masterpiece with a lively dusting of chocolate across her smiling lips.
“Done there, Picasso?”
I step back, feigning a critical examination of my work. “It needs whipped cream too, don’t you think?”
“Don’t you dare.” She raises her hands in mock seriousness. “Now, how do I look?” Her gaze holds an impish challenge that ignites something deep within me.
“Delicious.” My voice teases yet drips with sincerity.
She sputters another small laugh, that sound weaving its way into my heart. “Okay, playtime’s over. You can get it off now.”
And while I could easily reach for the rag that’s neatly nestled beside the sink, my heart has other plans. I set the jar down. “All right.” The moment stretches between us with palpable weight as I lean in closer and gently remove her glasses, placing them aside with care. Then my fingers move to cradle her face, taking in her delicate fragility, all the while knowing that beneath this surface lies the strength of the most courageous person I have ever encountered.
Perhaps one brave enough to step into the unknown with me.
And I know it’s time…
Time for a real move. One that will leave her in no doubt of how I feel.
Slowly, I lower my lips to the hollow of her cheek, brushing them against her skin to kiss away the chocolate resting there. The sharp intake of breath that escapes tells me I’ve surprised her, but she doesn’t back away. Instead, she remains, and her silence encourages me to follow the sugary path to her ear, my tongue darting out to taste her.
And whether it’s the chocolate or Marilee’s soft skin, I learn she’s every bit as delicious as I hoped.
“Jay?” Her fingers rise to clutch the back of my neck, nails digging in, sending electric sparks through me. “What?—”
“You said to get it off,” I murmur as I trace kisses along the shell of her ear, feeling the warmth radiating between us.
“I did,” she responds breathlessly. Her throat tightens against my mouth as I skim off the chocolate that’s started to dry there, against the neck I’ve dreamed countless times of kissing.
The moment is so sweet, yet so complicated. And I want more. I want everything.
I just want Marilee. This. Us.
Forever.
“But…”
And that single word snaps me back to reality. I pull away slightly, resting my forehead against hers, our breath mingling in the charged space. My gaze slides down to the remnants of chocolate on her lips, a promise of what could be, but I won’t risk nudging her too far, not when hesitation hangs in the air. “But what, Lee?”
Before she can answer, a blur of energy darts into my peripheral vision. “My turn, my turn!”
Ryder, ever the exuberant little whirlwind, hops into the space between us, unintentionally pushing me back from Marilee.
She blinks and shakes herself, producing a smile for my son as she crouches down in front of him. “Your turn for what, sweet boy?”
“For a kiss!” Then he smacks his lips against hers with an innocent fervor that sends a shock of warmth through my chest. “There, Mommy!”
Oh, geez. I run my hands through my hair as he dashes away in a fit of little-boy giggles.
Marilee remains still for a brief moment, her eyes flicking up to mine, laughter vanishing like mist. “We’re confusing him, Jay,” she says, her voice quieter now, threaded with uncertainty. Then she sinks to the floor. “Maybe… Maybe we’re confusing ourselves.”
I kneel down in front of her, the gravity of the moment wrapping around us as I gently swipe the chocolate off her shoulders with my thumb. And then I speak the most honest words I’ve ever shared with her. “I’m not confused, Lee. I never have been.”
Her trembling hand covers her mouth, and I can see the gears whirling in her brain. “I just…I need some time. To think.”
“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
And hopefully, even after a year’s up, neither will she. But it’s got to be her choice. So with a final squeeze, I stand and move back to the sink to grab her a clean rag for the chocolate still left behind, my insides jumbled from the intensity of what just happened, at finally making a move.
I pray that I haven’t ruined one of the best things in my life by being too hasty. But I can still taste the lingering sweetness of her on my lips—and I can’t find it in me to regret a thing.