Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
She took nearly an hour. While she showered, with the outside door open so she could watch the ocean, he cleaned up the mess they’d made in the kitchen, and the bed.
Being tidy might have been the only way he’d made his mother proud. He didn’t like mess. It made him anxious.
When he’d been growing up, he and Sean had been given chores. Cleaning the kitchen had been his, while Sean was tasked with taking out the trash and vacuuming. They’d both been expected to keep their rooms clean.
When his father died, Jordan had been given more responsibility, which he’d ended up shirking more often than not as he got more involved with his crew.
Before his mom got sick, he’d spend weeks away from home, sleeping in the spare bedroom or on the couch of the house his boss kept for their meetings and illegal business.
Even at that place, he’d been the one to tidy up. His friends had ragged him for it, but quickly changed their tune when they realized it wasn’t half bad not living in a fucking pigsty.
When his mom got sick, he’d spent more time at home again, helping Sean, bringing home money when he could.
He let the memories fade as he sanitized the counter. No sense in thinking about the past. He couldn’t change a single part of it, no matter how much he wished he could.
“So here’s the thing.” Vanessa’s voice filtered through the kitchen. It was huskier than usual. Must be from all the screaming of his name she’d done in the last twelve hours.
“What’s the thing, princess?” He leaned his elbow on the counter and took her in. Even wrapped in a towel, hair damp, and face bare, she was distractingly beautiful.
“Well, I blame you really.”
“Of course you do.”
“You let Nat pack for me.” Her expression was incensed. “If you’d asked Murray, he would’ve done a better job.”
Unable to hide his smirk, he crossed his arms. “Did she forget to pack your toothbrush?”
“She forgot to pack a lot of things.” Vanessa tossed her hands in the air. “I have a week’s worth of thongs and a pair of leggings, and two cropped t-shirts I was gifted by a designer but can’t get over my head. I think she thought you were taking me to a nudist camp.”
The laugh burst from deep within him, shaking his shoulders and hurting his cheeks. He thought he’d forgotten how to laugh like this. But she’d dragged it out of him more times in the last month than he’d managed in his whole adult life.
“I’m glad the possibility of me freezing my ass off amuses you. Excuse me while I go hide in the bedroom for the rest of this…” she lifted her hand in a vague gesture. “hostage situation.”
She turned on her heel and took off toward the bedroom.
He caught her before she swung the door shut in his face. “This is not a hostage situation,” he told her as she threw herself down on the bed. “Think of this as more of a mini-vacation.”
“With no clothes,” she mumbled into the pillow.
Quirking an eyebrow, he leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. “Are you sulking?”
“No.” She was definitely sulking. But somehow the way she did it was sexy as hell. “I’m cold from being forced to wear a bra, my only bra, as a top.”
Heaving a dramatic sigh, he said, “Well, we can’t have that.” He walked over to his drawer and pulled out a long-sleeved t-shirt. “Here, put this on.” Then he opened the middle drawer and withdrew a hoodie. “And this.”
When she stared at him like she’d never dressed herself in her life, he sauntered back to her.
With a devilish grin, he tugged the knot of her towel, letting the terry cloth drop from her body.
Her gaze fluttered up to his, but she didn’t reach for the clothes.
She was beautifully naked again, but for a blue lace thong.
“Arms up, please.” He expected resistance, a sneer, maybe a comment, but to his surprise her arms went right up, as if this was what she wanted all along.
Well, he was happy to oblige. He tugged the black cotton over her head, hesitating a moment before letting the material drop to cover her sensational tits. He missed them already.
After he did the same with the hoodie, he went over to her black leggings sitting on her travel bag.
“There’s a layer of snow from last night, but it’s warmed up some.
You should be okay in this until we get to town.
Then I’ll buy you a wardrobe that will put the desperate housewives of Cannon Beach to shame, okay? ”
Her face lit up. “Are we going shopping?”
“Yes, princess, we’re going shopping.” Since the clothes they’d left on the beach were gone when he’d checked that morning, shopping was even more of a necessity.
Vanessa bolted from the bed and tugged on her leggings in record speed, and he let another smile slip free. Good to know what motivated his girl.
“I don’t have proper shoes,” she told him as she grabbed a pair of his socks.
“Then I guess I’ll have to buy you those too.”
Her giggle had his heart in knots. He’d let her get close. Closer than anyone else had been in a very long time. Hell, he’d even let her see his bare chest.
This woman had him doing and saying things he never thought he’d do or say. Things he’d never done or said before. For the first time since he got out of prison, he wanted to share what it’d been like with someone. The things he thought about in the darkest hours of the night.
For the first time since starting his new life, he was thinking about things beyond next week, like he was a better version of himself. One who deserved a proper future.
And as long as he didn’t remind himself that Vanessa was moving to New York within the week, he could almost believe he could have it. With her.
The ride to the center of town took less than five minutes.
The streets were clear. Only a thin layer of snow dusted the rooftops and greenery around them.
On a warmer day, or if Vanessa had proper boots, they could’ve walked to town.
Instead, she was snug against him on his bike, wrapped the leather jacket he’d given her, and he definitely wasn’t complaining.
He parked in front of the only clothing store he knew of in Cannon Beach. He’d never been inside, and judging from the mannequins in the window it wasn’t Vanessa’s usual style, but warm fleece pullovers were on display so they were going in.
“Oohh, this is a cute boutique,” Vanessa said as she slid from the back of his bike, took off her helmet, and tucked it under her arm like she’d done this a hundred times before. “I wonder if they carry Mackage? They had a chic vest on an ad that popped up in my feed the other day.”
He didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, but he had a feeling she was about to be disappointed.
The bell chimed above the door as they strolled in.
Vanessa halted and took in the mix of Oregon coast tourist clothing and beachwear.
A couple of hat racks stood in the corner, along with a shelf of souvenirs.
Clothing racks displaying a variety of dresses, jackets and sweaters stood around the store.
A table with neatly folded t-shirts and jeans were in front of them.
Yep, he was going to guess the brand she mentioned wasn’t in this store.
A woman with short blonde hair, glasses, and a welcoming smile bustled over to them. “Good morning. Can I help you with anything today?”
Vanessa glanced around the store again, and said brightly, “Yes, I need a full wardrobe.”
The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “A full wardrobe?”
“Correct. I have nothing but the clothes on my back. More or less.”
“Oh.” The woman looked Vanessa up and down, her eyes growing wide, then suspicious.
“I’m Vanessa.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.
“And this grump behind me is Jordan. He brought me to this town for—” She glanced over her shoulder at him with narrowed eyes.
“An undetermined amount of time, but all I have with me are a few pairs of underwear and these leggings. Everything else I’m wearing is pretty much his. ”
The poor clerk’s gaze darted between them as though she wasn’t sure if Vanessa was joking or if she should be calling the police. Given the explanation provided, he didn’t blame her.
“I promise I’m safe and happy to be here, despite his grim demeanor.” Vanessa glanced at him again, her gaze warming as she reached for his hand. “In fact, I’m probably safer and happier than I’ve ever been.” She pivoted to the woman. “But I do need clothes.”
The woman stared at their joined hands for a beat, then looked at Vanessa with a fresh smile. “Well, isn’t that the sweetest?” She extended her hand to Vanessa. “I’m Cheryl.”
Vanessa pumped her hand enthusiastically. “Cheryl, it’s nice to meet you. Have you ever seen Pretty Woman?”
“Yes,” Cheryl said hesitantly.
“Remember that scene where Vivian enters the clothing boutique with Edward’s credit card and needs a whole new wardrobe?”
“I do…” Cheryl’s expression grew guarded.
He could only imagine what she must be thinking. But he also knew his girl, so he shoved his hands in his jean pockets and let her do her thing.
“Well, Cheryl, this is that scene. I need bottoms. I need tops. I need shoes, socks, and underwear that will actually cover my ass. I need it all. Can you help me?”
The clerk blinked a couple of times, then let out a laugh. “Of course I can.” She scanned Vanessa’s body. “I’m guessing you’re a size two in jeans and a small for shirts, and—” She glanced at Vanessa’s feet. “Size 9 for shoes. Am I right?”
Vanessa slowly angled her head to Jordan’s, her eyes wide, that pretty mouth popped open. “Oh, she’s good. You brought me to the right place.” She spun to face the woman in question, who was beaming from ear to ear, and looped her arm through hers. “Cheryl, where do you keep the pants?”