Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Day two of waking up at the cottage was similar to day one.
She was alone, her body fully sated and deliciously sore, no anxiety in the pit of her stomach, no phone charging on her nightstand, and ocean waves crashing outside the window.
It wasn’t New York or Vancouver, but if she wasn’t careful, she was going to become way too comfortable here.
Nigel had dozed in the little nest she set up for him at the foot of the bed, but by morning he was always up with Jordan, eagerly hopping after him for breakfast while she slept in.
Sitting up, she let the comforter pool at her waist, enjoying the cool air on her bare chest. Honestly, she didn’t mind waking up alone, maybe because it wasn’t an empty feeling.
It was more like a feeling of comfort, knowing Jordan was already up and making coffee, which she could smell down the hall.
She’d have to talk to him today about departure plans. The show in New York was in five days, and she was already so far out of her routine for a show like this. She really should’ve been more anxious.
Normally she’d be there by now, taking part in all the fittings and rehearsals.
Up until she’d been whisked away to the beach house, she’d been in regular contact with her agent and Cassidy.
Both had been more than accommodating, but she had to be there at least the day before the show to have a last fitting.
Jordan was worried about the show. He’d made that obvious. If he’d pressed harder, she knew he could’ve made her cancel. Whatever people thought and said about her, she wasn’t stupid. She knew the seriousness of the situation.
The shudder that ran through her was completely involuntary, but whenever she thought of how someone had been in her closet, her skin crawled. They could’ve attacked her.
Maybe a miracle would happen, and they’d catch the creep before her show. She was so ready to get on with her life and never again have some asshole with a sick obsession holding her back. After years of men doing exactly that, it was time to take back control.
The show at The Link had been a step in the right direction. But the Cassidy Moore show in New York would be a game changer. So, she needed to find a way to convince Jordan to let her leave as soon as possible.
She also needed her phone back, which she partially dreaded. The freedom of not having it was starting to grow on her.
There was a soft knock on the door before it was pushed open. Her god of thunder emerged holding a tray.
“What’s this?” She wiggled back up onto the bed until she rested against the headboard. “Breakfast in bed? It’s not my birthday.”
He looked very out of character carrying a breakfast tray.
The tray he held was loaded with a glass of orange juice, a cup of coffee, a bowl of fruit with yogurt, and a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Way more food than she could eat, but easily the most adorable thing she’d ever seen him do, so she wasn’t leaving this bed until she’d eaten every bite.
That’s when she noticed the toast cut into heart shapes. “What—”
His cheeks flushed. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Oh. My. Goodness. Her heart melted into a puddle that pooled in her lower belly. Valentine’s Day hadn’t even registered for her. “You made me breakfast in bed for Valentine’s Day?”
He shrugged, looking like a bear in a dollhouse, and her heart couldn’t take it. She wanted to eat him for breakfast.
“It’s not fancy, but…” His gaze darted anywhere but to her. He was utterly adorable.
“It’s perfect,” she murmured, and it was. “Will you share it with me?” She scooted over to make a space for him, even though there was plenty of room on the massive king-size bed.
That’s when his gaze landed on her bare breasts. Immediately his pupils dilated, lips parting.
“Four orgasms weren’t enough for you last night, big guy?” She flicked two fingers from his face to hers, snapping him out of his trance. “Eyes up here, Zeus.”
His low growl only made her smile.
Truthfully, she was used to people ogling her breasts and making comments about her body. But after a few years in the business, pride had been replaced by anxiety. What did she offer other than her looks? What would they praise her for when age softened her curves and changed her face?
But when Jordan looked at her, like her beauty lived within her and not on her, her heart swelled with something dangerously close to an emotion she couldn’t afford right now.
He settled in beside her, sitting upright, and set the tray across his lap. “With you, nothing seems to be enough.” His fingertips grazed her lips as he fed her a strawberry, stirring a flutter of butterflies low in her stomach.
As she chewed, a comfortable silence settled between them, until he said, “I can’t be a father.”
Not what she was expecting over a Valentine’s breakfast in bed, but okay. She was, however, more invested in the end of that statement than anything he’d ever said, so she decided that silent chewing was the best option as a response.
He let out a long breath. “Mine was the best. Strong and kind and present, everything you’d want in a father.
He taught us about hard work, caring for family, being a good neighbor, a good man.
” When she swallowed, he dipped another berry in the yogurt and fed it to her.
“He grew up poor, like food-stamp poor, and wanted better than that. He was the first one to graduate high school in his family. He enrolled in a trades program and became a roofer.”
She leaned toward him, his deep voice hypnotic.
He kept his eyes on the tray as he told the story.
“He wanted better for Sean and me. Made sure we got to school every day, signed us up at the local dojo for martial-arts classes. He wanted us to stay out of trouble, get an education, and move up in the world. He worked so fucking hard to make that happen.” Lost in the storytelling, his expression went distant, like he wasn’t in the present with her anymore.
She traced her finger up and down his veined forearm to keep their connection.
“When he died, all those dreams died with him.” He blinked, letting the memory go, and reached for a fork, spearing the next piece of fruit with more aggression than necessary.
“I turned my life into something my father would’ve hated.
Now I have a past I can’t outrun.” Finally, he looked at her, his eyes hard.
“I can’t picture having a kid and telling them their father was a criminal who spent years in jail.
That the scars across my heart represent every life I’ve ever taken. ”
Vanessa’s own heart thundered as she fought not to glance at the six circular scars below his tattoo. But she failed. Her gaze dropped, taking in each angry, puckered circle.
“Burns,” he whispered hoarsely. “Our boss branded us every time we took out one of our enemies. Said it marked our loyalty…our place in the ranks.”
Tears flooded her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She grappled to piece it all together: Jordan as a younger man, his life before prison. It was hard to reconcile the man she knew, her protector, with a man she couldn’t imagine.
“Could you see your kids going to kindergarten knowing their daddy’s an ex-con when others’ are bankers or doctors or plumbers?
I would never do that to a kid, Vanessa.
” His voice was vehement, filled with righteous anger.
“My dad was my hero, the best man I have ever known. Every child should have that. Not me.”
She swallowed the last of the strawberry she’d forgotten was in her mouth. It went down like a rock. “That’s why you don’t come inside me?”
He looked away. “That’s why.”
There was so much to say, she didn’t even know where to start. “But I told you I was on birth control.”
His answering shrug was minuscule. “It’s not 100 percent.”
Somewhere in her overloaded brain, she understood his logic. Double protection, and all that, but somehow it didn’t take away the deep ache in her heart.
He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “I know it doesn’t sound rational. You have to understand that before I went to jail, I never had sex without a condom. After I got out—” A crease formed between his brows while his jaw tightened. “I never had sex until you.”
She had no idea why that filled her heart the way it did. Numbers didn’t matter. They never had for her, but knowing she was number one in his new life meant everything. It made her want to stay the only one forever.
“Prison changed me. It changed the way I see and understand everything. It turned my gray soul black. But with you, there are these glimmers of hope that break through like rays of light through blinds. You make me want to be reckless.”
“Like pulling out as your main form of contraception?”
“No, princess, like not wanting to pull out at all. Like wishing you weren’t on the damn pill. Like thinking I could have a future that included children of my own. With you.”
Every feeling under the sun collided in her chest all at once, making it hard to breathe. He was saying all the things she wanted to hear, making her believe maybe they wanted the same things after all.
“What makes you think we couldn’t have that future?” she demanded, sitting up in the bed, knocking the breakfast tray askew on his lap.
Jordan lifted the tray over to the bedside table before anything could spill onto the comforter.
But she had more important things on her mind. “Your past isn’t something that has to come with you everywhere you go, like the tattoos and scars on your body. You’ve changed. You’re not the man you once were. You can have all the things you dream about.”
His smile, when it came, was sad. “And what would people say when they found out your boyfriend was an ex-convict, an ex-gangster? You get dragged through the worst of it on any given day without having someone like me in your life to make it worse. Do you think they wouldn’t care?”
“I wouldn’t care, Jordan.” But even as she said it, she understood the truth in his words.
People were cruel. Hadn’t she lived through it?
The public shaming, the gossip, the noise.
Even if she could survive another storm, could she watch them rip Jordan apart?
After everything he’d done to change, to rebuild, to earn his redemption, did she want to be the reason he had to relive his worst mistakes for social-media sport?
No. She wanted him, but not at the cost of his peace.
He must have seen her coming to the same realization, because he lifted a hand to her jaw, brushing his thumb along the soft skin above her cheekbone. “I wish it could be different.”
Her heart ached as her tears welled. “So what do we do now?” The first tear spilled over her cheek.
He brushed it away, his dark-brown eyes seeing right through to her heart. “How about we pretend you’re mine for one more day?”
It wasn’t a vow or a long-term commitment. Not a promise that everything would be okay or that they’d figure something out. But it was enough to get them through today, and for now, that was all she needed.
She drew the blanket away and straddled his hips. If she only had one more day, she wasn’t wasting a minute of it.