Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
He wanted to kiss her. He almost had. Jordan shoved the rolling cart filled with balls to the equipment room and took advantage of the moment of privacy to scrub his hands over his face, hoping some fucking self-control would seep back to his brain.
Easier said than done, because every time his eyes closed, the vision of her walking toward him on the catwalk squashed every single one of his remaining brain cells.
Her movements were effortless, elegant. Almost feline. Each step designed to destroy more of his sanity. The way her body moved—
“Fuuuuck,” he whispered under his breath, running his hands over his face again. He needed a slap—no, a proper fight in the ring. He wished his brother weren’t in England.
Sean was the only one he could truly let loose with, the one he didn’t have to hold back around. Damn, he had so much pent-up…everything, right now, that he could really use a good round. Anything to get a grip on all these fucking emotions.
His feelings for Vanessa were changing at warp speed.
This project and her passion for it had woken him up to another side of her.
Fine, maybe deep inside he’d always known she was more than a social media obsessed fashionista.
Maybe it irritated him because he hated when she treated herself like the bare minimum version of herself.
Then there was everything else. Like seeing her using a fucking power tool yesterday, prepared to spend the rest of the day in the freezing cold building a runway for a bunch of teenage girls.
Or knowing that she took the time to get all the girls’ shoe sizes and then went out and bought them each a pair of overpriced designer shoes on her own dime.
Or the fact that she spent almost every day at The Link organizing the event, calling potential donors, soliciting local businesses for donations, and working overtime on social media to spread the word.
He didn’t know shit about social media, stayed away from it with zero FOMO. But he knew it was a powerful tool for this kind of thing, and she’d managed to use it to make this one of the biggest events in the community.
She was incredible. So fucking young. So many years ahead of her to turn all of her greatness into something even more phenomenal.
But she wouldn’t do any of it if she lost herself on him. The way she drank him in when he lifted her off the stage, desire darkening those irises to a coppery brown. It took everything in him not to fuck her against the stage.
No way he’d ruin her. He was a thirty-eight-year-old ex-con who had no business doing anything more than building her stages and making sure she stayed safe.
Which was exactly why he was here pretending to reorganize a perfectly organized equipment room, trying not to think about how long and toned her legs looked in those mile-high stilettos.
He didn’t need to be here, and he was certain she knew that. Did she think it was weird that he loitered for no reason while they rehearsed? Or did it make her feel safer?
Judging by the way he’d noticed her scanning the gym every once in a while, a smile lighting her face when her gaze landed on him, he figured she was okay with him being there.
New shouts echoed in the gym, and he abandoned the clipboard he’d been taking inventory on to investigate.
Beck and Murray were sauntering into the gym in their teenage uniform of baggy pants and oversized hoodies, heading straight for the girls who were taking their turns walking down the catwalk.
Jordan headed to intercept them. “Gentlemen,” he drawled. “What are you doing here? No practice today.” He scanned Murray up and down.
Since the incident in the hallway, the young man had started attending basketball practice, but Jordan knew that he had a rough home life and was still finding his way, so he kept a close eye on him.
“Rory texted last night. Said they needed help building the stage.” He nodded to the completed catwalk. “Looks like they got it done.”
“Looks like,” Jordan replied.
Beck shrugged, not taking his eyes off the stage. Jordan glanced over his shoulder and noticed it was Rory’s turn to walk.
“So I guess they don’t need you,” Jordan said, drawing Beck’s attention back to him.
“Guess not.” Poor kid sounded as disappointed as Jordan had ever heard him.
“What else do you two have going on today?” He knew Beck worked part time at a garage. As far as he knew, Murray didn’t have a job yet, but he hadn’t developed enough of a relationship yet with the kid to dig deeper.
What he’d noticed though, was that Murray had been spending more time with Beck, which was either a good thing for Murray…or a bad thing for Beck.
“Nothin’,” Beck admitted.
Jordan glared pointedly at Murray. “You?”
He shrugged.
Jordan exhaled loudly. They’d come here to help out and fill their time in a positive way. If they left now, God knew how they’d spend their afternoon.
“Come on,” he said, leading the boys over to Vanessa, who was standing at the edge of the stage offering feedback.
She had a gift for critiquing without sounding harsh. Well, unless it was aimed at him, of course. The girls were lucky to have her guidance.
She greeted him with a smile, and the way her eyes crinkled at the edges had desire firing right to his dick. Fuck.
“Hey,” she said, her voice raspy, probably from all the talking she’d done. “What’s up?”
“These two thought they were coming to help with the stage.” He jerked his thumb at Beck and Murray. “I guess one of the girls thought they could use an extra pair of hands.”
“We would have,” Vanessa said through another heart-stopping smile. She leaned up to him and whispered, “But then somebody spent all night doing it all by himself.”
Christ, she was going to kill him. Turned out sweet, endearing Vanessa was almost as lethal as demanding, high-maintenance Vanessa.
He cleared his throat and didn’t miss the flicker of hurt in her features when he took a small step away from her. Self-preservation, he told himself.
“Do you have anything for them to do since they’re here anyway?” He glanced at the boys, who were mesmerized by what was happening on the stage. “Polish shoes with toothbrushes or something.”
Vanessa made a sound of disgust. “Only you would polish a thousand-dollar shoe with a toothbrush.”
He didn’t even blink at the mention of her buying thousand-dollar shoes for everyone, because…of course she would.
“Look, anything will do. They have nothing else going on today, and I’d prefer they stay out of trouble before any big games.”
Vanessa tapped her long, slender finger against the corner of her cherry-red lips as she observed the boys. “Get on the stage,” she finally told them.
“Pardon, ma’am,” Beck said, his eyes bugging out.
Vanessa laughed. “Don’t ma’am me, Beck, I’m guessing I’m only seven years older than you.
” She flipped her hair over her shoulder.
“Get up on the stage and show me what you’ve got.
” When they stared at her blankly, she clarified.
“I had a couple designers send me men’s clothing.
If you walk well for me, I’ll let you model them. Go!”
When they continued to stare, she pointed at the catwalk.
Laughter floated over them. “Yeeeess! Up you come, fellas.” Tessa, Rory, and a couple of the other girls were all gesturing for the boys to join them on stage.
After some banter and catcalling, the boys clambered up.
“Let’s see what you got, Beck,” Rory shouted, and the boy started the most exaggerated walk along the runway that Jordan had ever seen.
Vanessa watched, her expression giving nothing away. When he was done, the girls were all giggles, and Beck offered a deep, exaggerated bow.
“Now you.” She motioned to Murray, who’d been standing by looking like he wanted the ground to open up and take him.
“Hell no,” he grumbled.
Jordan hid a smile behind his fist, because damn, he could relate to this kid.
The moment Vanessa cocked her hip, Jordan knew the poor guy had no chance. “You,” she started, wagging her finger at him. “Came to my house and threatened one of my girls—”
“She stole money from m—”
Vanessa held up her hand, cutting him off. “You barged in here expecting us to drop everything and give you what you wanted. Well, you got it.”
Murray grunted something unintelligible—probably better left that way.
“Did you not?” Vanessa stared him down like she had that day in the hallway.
“Barely,” Murray spat.
“Barely? Because from what I remember, Jordan gave you cash and a chance to redeem yourself after you verbally assaulted me and six young women.”
Murray had the audacity to shrug. Poor fool. “So?”
“So,” Vanessa said in that snotty, pompous tone that Jordan had come to know very well. “Redeem yourself.”
She crossed her arms and stared at him until, with a long-suffering sigh, Murray stalked to the back of the catwalk.
Tessa hit play on her phone, and music filled the air. Between his height, the fuck-you scowl burned onto his face, and his long, attitude-driven stride down the catwalk, Murray wasn’t half bad.
Vanessa studied Murray, her finger tapping her mouth. Jordan studied her, riveted yet again by how her brain worked. How she saw the things no one else saw.
He loved her like this. All her passion, experience, and ambition coming together in a cacophony of power.
When the kid made it to the end of the runway, he threw his hands in the air and let them fall with a slap to his thighs. “There. Redeemed.”
The others chuckled, but Vanessa looked at him, lips pursed, until finally she pointed at him and Beck. “You’re both in. I expect you at every single rehearsal from now until showtime.” Then she clapped her hands twice. “Okay, from the top! We only have six days left, people.”
When she caught Jordan staring at her, she raised her eyebrows and nodded toward the back of the stage. “You too, Zeus, we need the change area built. It’s all-hands-on deck until Saturday.”
Suppressing a smile, she watched as he went off to do her bidding.