Chapter 22 #2
She works her jaw. “I don’t know if that’s something I can honestly promise. You’re my sister, Libs.”
I shrug, as though unconcerned. “Then I’ll call Janelle for advice.”
She huffs. “Okay, okay. Fine. I promise.”
“Solemnly, El.”
“Solemnly,” she repeats. She holds out her hand to shake mine, and though I break into a smile, I take it.
“Okay, spill it,” Ellie demands.
“I think I accidentally fell in love with my husband.” I say it with resignment.
My sister isn’t taken aback by the statement, and I’m not surprised. I knew when I told her about Jordan that she didn’t buy it. She just didn’t know what was going on.
She sits down at a table in the corner of her office. There are already two southwest salad bowls sitting in front of the chairs. “Interesting turn of events,” she says. There’s triumph in her expression, though she’s trying to hide it.
I slide into the seat across from her. I don’t open the salad she ordered for me. Instead, I tell her everything. Her expression is furious when I tell her about the governing board’s call and my decision to say I was marrying Jordan.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks. “How dare they insinuate that you can’t do it when you have all the qualifications! The same ones I do,” she fumes.
“You promised,” I remind her, pointing a finger at her.
She holds up hands in surrender. “I know. But why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”
“I didn’t want rescued. Not by you or Dad or anyone. Ellie, I want to do this myself. I want to prove it to people, and marrying Jordan was a business decision for me. A decision that I chose and I made. Besides, I knew you all would see it as a repeat of Mexico.”
Ellie’s jaw drops. “What? No, Libs.”
I shake my head. “You’ve all been waiting for ten years for the other shoe to drop. For me to do something stupid, like marry a guy to be able to buy a hockey team.”
She glares at me. “I have absolutely not been waiting for you to mess up, Libby Bennet. I have known for years that you’re strong and capable.
You’re literally rescuing women from situations like yours every day.
You walk through the fire like you weren’t burned yourself.
” Tears well in her eyes, then spill onto her cheeks.
She reaches across the table and grasps my hands.
“You are amazing and capable. You’re twenty-seven and you’re doing things I was only dreaming about at that age. ”
I screw up my lips because emotion is surging through me too.
“When the firm was first starting, and some of Hollis’s supporters went full court press on me?
I had a measured response planned, but you went on that podcast and blasted them without talking to me.
” Ellie grimaces, but I go on. “And when I wanted to move into that building and the luxury spa didn’t want us next door.
Dad went behind my back to smooth things over.
” I tilt my head at her, my expression saying, See?
Her countenance falls, and she looks properly chastised.
“We are overprotective. Every single one of us. I’ve said it before—we’ve told you how terrified we were.
Nothing compared to what you went through, but enough that none of us want to live that again.
I haven’t lived in fear of you messing up, Libby,” she says, her voice wobbly.
“I’ve lived in fear of losing you,” she whispers.
“Because I know, from experience, that I couldn’t survive it. ”
I shake my head at her. “I’m never going to do anything like that again. Running off with Jordan—”
She holds up a hand. “You didn’t ‘run off’ the first time.
You were kidnapped. Trafficked. You were not consenting, and you know that.
You’ve been saving girls from that for six years.
You. Know.” Her expression is stern. “And you also know better than anyone how dangerous this world is for women. I’m just as scared for Cordie and the twins and Kat and Emmeline.
None of them are ever allowed to date,” she says gruffly.
A laugh bubbles up, even if it’s watery with emotion. “Poor girls.”
Ellie gives an unapologetic shrug. She squeezes my hands again and then pulls away. “And so now you’re falling for him,” she says, pulling our discussion back to the reason I’m here.
I nod, pressing my lips together in a line.
“And the problem is?” Her brows furrow in confusion.
“He’s just like Grayson.”
Ellie’s eyes widen. “What? What do you mean?”
I cringe. “I said that wrong. No red flags, promise. He’s so respectful.
” Her shoulders relax as I tell her about Jordan confessing his feelings last night, how quickly he backed off, and how careful he is about boundaries.
“Flirting and charm is like his second nature. My brain won’t let me trust him, even if I do believe that he’s not the same.
But sometimes when he smiles at me like I’m everything, I can’t help wondering what he’s hiding. When he’s going to turn on me.”
Ellie blows out a breath. “Can I be honest, Libs?”
“Of course. That’s why I came here today. In this very specific instance, I need my big sister to tell me what to do.”
“Jordan doesn’t look at you like Grayson did.
” She picks up her phone, swipes a few things, and shows me a picture.
It’s a selfie that I took at the Houston airport before Jordan and I left for Denver.
One of the many posts in the schedule to show the world how in love we are.
Jordan isn’t looking at the camera. He’s staring at me.
The look in his eyes is the same as when he confessed his feelings last night—a look that says I hold his world in my hands.
She pulls the phone back while I’m still melting over it and flicks through a few more things. She flips it back around to me a couple seconds later, showing me a photo that Grayson took right before we left for Mexico. He’s staring down at me, but his look makes me shiver—in a bad way.
“Jordan looks at you like you’re his everything,” Ellie says. “Grayson looked at you like you could give him everything.”
I see it, the greed and hunger that’s completely different from even the desire I saw in Jordan’s expression this morning when I called him husband. Jordan always looks at me like I’m precious, even when his thoughts aren’t exactly PG. That’s nothing like Grayson.
“I know he’s not Grayson,” I say quietly. “But I don’t know how to actually trust that. To let myself fully fall for him, knowing how badly he can hurt me.”
“You can’t just tell yourself to get over it.
” Ellie pulls the phone back, swiping away the picture with a look of disgust before returning her gaze to me.
“Trusting Jordan isn’t going to happen suddenly.
It’s going to happen in little bits every day.
For the rest of your life.” She scoots her chair so that it’s right next to mine.
“Give yourself grace and trust Jordan enough for each day.” She wraps her arms around me and pulls me close.
“I know it’s easier said than done, sis,” she whispers. “But you can do anything.”
I bury my head in her shoulder. “Yeah, I can,” I say softly, willing myself to believe it.
I am Libby Bennet. When I put my mind to something, I get it done.
Falling in love with Jordan Atkinson is no different.