Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“Coming back here was a stupid thing to do.” Jorja poured herself a glass of wine and went back to her computer.
She’d been here three days. Three freaking days and she missed him so much it made her belly ache.
She didn’t just miss Gunnar, she realized, she missed all of them and their craziness.
In such a short space of time, all the McKinleys had become important to her.
They’d become the crazy daisy family she’d wished for as a child.
She picked up her phone and scrolled through the numbers until her fingers hovered over Gunnar’s.
This is ridiculous. Call him. He doesn’t bite.
Not unless you ask him to, anyway.
But every time she was about to press the button, she stopped herself and scrolled further down the list of contacts to another one. She went back and forth a couple of times, before huffing in annoyance at her indecision and tapped call.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Momma.”
“Jorja?” Her mom’s voice soothed some of the ache inside her. “Hi, sweetie.”
She couldn’t help herself. All the emotions and feelings of the last couple of weeks finally won the battle, overwhelming her, and she burst into tears.
Her mom didn’t bat an eyelid, just made all the right noises in the appropriate places as the story tumbled out of her so fast the words sometimes got jumbled up.
“I don’t want to end up in a situation with a bossy man like you did with my sperm donor. ”
“Okay, enough,” her mom interrupted. “Your father wasn’t bossy; he was a bully. There’s a huge difference between the two. You understand that, right?”
Of course, she understood it. Logically, she did. At least her adult brain did. But the child who’d seen all the bad stuff happen still remembered, and she wasn’t so sure of anything anymore. “Yeah.”
“You don’t sound too sure, sweetie,” her mom said. “Which is Gunnar? Is he bossy or is he a bully?”
She hiccuped. “He’s bossy. I don’t think there’s an inch of him that isn’t bossy.”
“Does he have a side of bully to go with the bossy?”
No. No, he doesn’t.
She knew exactly what she needed to do. Her butt was going back where it belonged. “I gotta go, Mom. I need to pack.”
“Do not get married until I’m there,” her mom ordered. “Where am I going?”
Knock, Knock.
“There’s someone at the door.” She got to her feet and crossed the room. “I’m not getting married…” she opened the door “…Mom.”
“Can I change your mind on that?” He held up a set of keys and waved them, making them jingle, and grinned at her. “Car delivery.”
She gaped at Gunnar as he leaned against her door frame with one shoulder, not fully registering what she was seeing for a second before she dropped the phone and launched herself at him. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, beautiful.” Gunnar scooped her into his arms and shut the door behind them. Somewhere from the floor Jorja could hear her mom’s voice as she called for her to answer, but she was too busy having the breath kissed out of her to do anything about it.
When Gunnar pulled back, he swiped his thumbs across her cheeks, catching the tears she’d shed earlier. His eyes narrowed and she squirmed under his stern gaze. “Who the fuck made you cry, and where the hell do I find them?”
“No one. I promise. I was talking to my mom.”
“Your mom made you cry?”
So that’s what stunned sounds like.
“No. I mean, yes.” She got all kinds of flustered as she tried to explain it to him. “What I was talking to her about did.”
“I’m definitely going to need a new hat.” Her mom’s voice came from the floor. “And a new dress, lordie. I need to go shopping and…”
“Crap.” Her mom was getting way ahead of herself. She needed to stop that in her tracks before Gunnar figured out what she was talking about. Jorja reached for the phone, but he got there before her and picked it up.
“Hello, this is Gunnar. Who am I speaking to?” Did Gunnar, the Jerk-God, even stay standing where she could hear the other side of the conversation?
No, no, he didn’t. He wandered around her apartment like he owned the place.
“Hi, Mrs. Buchanan. Yes, I intend to when the time is right. Uh-huh. Yes. No. Never. I swear.”
Enough was enough. It sounded like her mom had taken a job with the Spanish Inquisition. Jorja snagged the phone and put it to her ear. “Mom. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“He sounds like a nice boy…”
Jorja snorted in her head. Nice boy? There wasn’t one boyish thing about Gunnar Jerk-God McKinley. He was all man, from his sexy smirk to his… she scanned him up and down… big boots. “I’ll call you back later, Mom.”
“Whatcha take the phone for?” Gunnar tugged her back into his arms. “I was getting to know your mom.”
Was he serious right now?
She quirked up one eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Understanding dawned and he grinned wide. “You’re right. What was I thinking?” He wrapped his fingers into hers. “Show me your bedroom, beautiful.”
Murder by flip-flop is wrong.
She seriously considered it. If he came here just for a side of sex along with delivering her car, she decided she’d figure out a way to make it happen. “That door.”
He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, patting her butt and he took her to her room. “I need you.” He slid her down his body as he put her on her feet. “Part of me is missing without you.”
“I was telling my mom the same thing,” she admitted. “That I missed you so much more than I ever thought I would.”
He smiled down into her eyes and smoothed her hair back at her temple. “Just so we are clear, I love you.”
She snuggled into his chest. “I love you too, Gunnar.”
“Thank fuck, because if you didn’t, I might lose my mind.”
She turned around until her back was to the bed, and walked backward, bringing him with her. “Let me show you how much.”
“Thought you’d never ask…”
He followed her down, and after, she wasn’t sure who showed who, but as she drifted off to sleep, Jorja knew this was where she was meant to sleep for the rest of her days. “Gunnar?”
“Yes, baby?”
She rolled over in his arms and peered up at him. “When can I come home?”
“How fast can you pack?”
Had he not seen all her knickknacks? “Not as fast as I’d like.”
“I have three days before I have to be in Paris for a meeting,” he said drowsily. “After that, I have a fast trip to make home. I can fly into here from Baltimore on my way back. Will that work?”
“I don’t mind driving down.”
“I hate you driving all the way through Europe by yourself.”
“Bossy.”
“When it comes to your safety, beautiful, you betcha I am.” He tightened his arms around her. “We’ll talk about it later. Now we nap, then it’s my turn to show you how much I love you… deal?”
“Deal.”