Chapter 19
Jordan
You’re doing great,” I encourage Nora from my stool at the corner table. She’s on a roll, landing the sharp edge of the hatchet on the target three times in a row, after the first six smacked against the wall with a resounding thud. “Who are we saying F U to next?”
Her eyes brighten as she plucks a name from her mental list of wrongdoers—the sources of her pain and reasons for her always settling for less than she deserves. “Tristan.”
“Okay. Who’s that?”
After crossing the booth to collect the last two hatchets she threw, she strolls back to the starting position beside me. “High school boyfriend.”
She sets one hatchet on the wall hook and raises the handle of another, adjusting her grip. “Whoa. Wait a second.”
“What?” The hatchet falls to her side as her arm and shoulder relax.
“Does that mean you dated only one guy in high school?”
“I thought we discussed this,” she says, not grasping my confusion.
“One guy.”
She studies me as she puts the pieces of my questions together. “Yes,” she says with conviction and a touch of exasperation. “I was committed to one guy for three years. He was the only one to stand up for me until he didn’t. He broke my heart…hence the start of my disdain for relationships.”
She raises her arm and flings the hatchet toward the target. Bullseye.
“Yikes. Guess you meant that one.”
“He was the total package and concluded someone with a few dents and scratches wasn’t good enough for him.” She shrugs and removes a bottle of water from the small bucket on the tall bar table, holding me up. “I’ve accepted it, but he confirms the theory.”
“For the record,” I begin and wait for her big brown eyes to give me their full attention. “Not all boyfriends leave.”
She hands me a bottle. “No, but some leave even when they don’t want to, and that’s worse.”
“Nora.” I remove her hand from around the water bottle and warm it in mine. Our eyes meet. “You can’t let the tragedies of others control your life. What happened to Sydney and countless others who lost someone they love won’t happen to you.”
“You don’t know that. It could have happened every time you deployed.”
Tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise in response. “You worried about that?”
Her gaze drops to our hands before she nods.
“I thought…”
“That I didn’t care? That if you died, I’d go about my life like we never met?”
I swallow hard. “Yeah. I had no reason to believe otherwise.”
A sudden tear pooling on her thick lashes surprises me, but I can do nothing but watch it glisten in the light as it leaves a trail down her cheek.
“Although I didn’t like to admit it then, you were important to me. I cared about you.”
“And now?” I ask, not giving two shits if it’s too soon or too bold. I need to know.
Her face is unreadable when her gaze rises to mine. I wonder what she’s thinking, what she’ll say, or if she’ll do what she always does and evade the question. I don’t notice her inching closer until she’s standing between my legs and placing my hand on her waist. My heart takes off as she frames my face and lowers her head. Her breath is hot on my lips, and I want nothing more than to taste her again. Feel her pressed against me in sweet surrender. I want her.
“Does this answer your question?” she purrs into my ear, her fingers combing through my hair and down to cup the back of my neck. My hand tightens around her thin waist.
“I think I need more information.”
A soft moan flutters in her throat, pushing me over the edge.
“God, I—”
With a peck to my forehead, she steps back and collects the remaining ax from the floor. “Sorry.” Her shoulders pop up in fake sympathy. “You said no to first date kisses, and friends don’t do that.”
I watch her, my mouth gaping open, as she aims the ax at the target and sends it flying. It lands just to the right of the red center mark.
“That was for me.”
The comment snaps me out of my trance. “You?”
“For all the times I stood in my own way.”
“You are good at that,” I tease, missing her warmth against me. “You hit the target. Does that mean you’re going to stop? Getting in your own way, I mean.”
“I want to.”
“And I want to help.”
Her eyes shimmer with wetness again, and I’m mesmerized by this new vulnerable side. “Are you sure? Even after—”
“Even then. That’s what friends are for, right?”
Her lips pucker slightly as she considers the question, and it takes no time at all for me to decide that I fuckin’ hate the friend zone.
◆◆◆
Later that night, we go our separate ways. Nora to the couch and me to the bedroom. But ever since the living room lamp switched off hours ago, I haven’t been able to get what happened between us out of my mind. The feel of her body close to mine. Her warm breath on my skin. The unexpected tears and confessions. Her request to start anew.
There’s no doubt I want that more than anything. I don’t care that she can’t have my children. I don’t care about her lies or past. She’s mine. Always will be. But she’ll need to come to this conclusion on her own.
The more I press, the more bricks she’ll install around that stubborn heart of hers. And that’s okay. She can construct all the fortresses she thinks she needs to protect herself. I know her tactics and weaknesses better than she does, and I’m not afraid to fight for what I want. With unlimited artillery and close proximity on my side, I’ll be sitting in the shadows, waiting for the right opportunity to destroy her walls once and for all.
◆◆◆
“What are you doing?” Nora asks, sitting up, still half asleep, with pillow creases bright red on her face.
“Making breakfast. What’s it look like I’m doing?”
“Moving around on your own, and potentially hurting yourself again.” She rises to stretch and the long sleeve pajama top rises above her navel, exposing more skin than I can handle.
All night I tried to get that flat stomach out of my thoughts to no avail. And now, she’s taunting me with it. The spatula tumbles out of my hand and rattles against the skillet.
“Case in point,” she mumbles, snatching the plastic kitchen utensil from the appliance. “You’re going to burn your one good arm.”
“I can disassemble, reassemble, and accurately shoot a rifle,” I protest. “I believe I can handle a simple skillet.”
“Not today, apparently.”
“That’s because you—”
She pivots to face me, and I realize I’m within touching range. If I engage a few muscles, her body could be on mine at last—my lips pressed against her neck.
I hobble to the other side of the counter since my body can’t be trusted.
“Because I what?” she asks, raking her sexy lazy eyes over me.
“You had to wear that.” My finger waves over her body, gaze following, and she looks down.
“You like old and…”
Thin and hugging every delicious curve. Her bare nipples are poking through the soft white fabric with pink and purple polka dots. If I’m not mistaken, she’s not wearing any underwear, either. Sweet mother of Jesus.
“Stop with the distractions. The pancakes need flipping,” I demand before my lower half explodes.
“Alright.” Her lips pinch to hide her amusement, but I don’t miss the subtle way she arches her back and rolls her head while she turns over each pancake tantalizingly slow. A stretch she could blame on morning stiffness, but I know what she’s doing. She’s flaunting her curves to draw my attention. Exposing her kissable neckline to make my mouth water. Oh, it’s a river in there, but she’ll never know. This is her go-to war strategy, and I’m already two steps ahead.
“Let me know when they’re ready. I’m going to wash off.” A long, cold, burn-off-the-sting-of-unfulfilled-desire kind of sponge bath.
“Okay,” she says, drawing out each letter almost as a question.
It took everything I had to keep my hands and lips to myself. But I’m focused on the primary mission. Something bigger than what I may want and need in this one small moment. Resisting the urge to give in too soon will not only make accomplishing the mission easier but also incredibly more satisfying.
◆◆◆
“So, what are we calling yesterday?” she asks before taking a bite of pancake dripping with syrup. She’s sitting on the floor opposite me on the couch, our plates touching on the small coffee table.
“Can you even taste that pancake?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s so much syrup it’s no longer a pancake.” My upper lip creases like I taste something sour. “It’s soggy mush.”
“What’s the problem? I like it wet,” she says with a mischievous grin, making my bite clog in my throat. “Don’t you?”
Damn. So much for having the leg up. I’d like to yank her leg—
“Anyway, I asked you a question before you ignored me and criticized my breakfast.”
“You did?” I wash down the dry mound of pancake with orange juice, wishing it had come with more gooey syrup. But I can never admit that and add another leg to her advantage. She’s knocked me down with her sexy strategy enough this morning.
She lets out a long exhale. “I asked what you wanted to label yesterday. First date or friend outing?”
“Oh. Since when do you into label anything between us?”
Her eyes narrow playfully. “Since yesterday, obviously.”
I consider the best answer for the mission and settle on, “Friends.” But add, “For now.”
That seems to satisfy her curiosity.
“After your PT and therapy appointments today, I thought we could go on another adventure. Up for a long drive?”
“Depends.” I take a bite and stare into her beautiful, dark chocolate eyes.
“On?”
“What we’re crossing off the list.”
“I thought we could cross off Las Vegas.”
My fork drops, and I sit back in shock. “You want to drive to Las Vegas?”
“What? Of course, not. We don’t have that kind of time, and you have appointments scheduled.”
“I would have gone,” I mutter, returning to breakfast.
“Me, too.”
Smiling, I’m intrigued about where she wants to escape today. “Where do you want to go?”
“Ever been to the horse track and casino in Charlestown?”
“No. Let’s do it.”
“That was easy.”
“I already told you. I’ll go anywhere, do anything with you.”
Based on her lack of come back, I’d say the advantage has tilted back to my side.
“It’s a few hours from here,” she continues, recovering faster than I like. “But since your appointment is early today, we can make it before the races start.”
Eyeing her, I sip on my juice. “Want to make a wager before we go?”
“You know it. What are we betting and what are the stakes?”
“I bet you dinner I win more times than you—horses, casino, slots, whatever.”
“You’re on.” She takes the last bite of pancake left on her plate, her eyes never leaving my face. “And when I win, I want a dinner on the river.”
My jaw goes slack. Restaurants on the river are swanky, expensive, and you go there to be seen. Or, you have money to burn like there’s an endless flow into your bank account. “Okay. Will you be wearing that dress I love so much?”
“The one you always talk about peeling off me?”
“That’s the one.”
“Maybe.” She smiles into her glass before taking a long, teasing sip. “Maybe I’ll buy something new with all my winnings.”
“Mmm. I have half a mind to let you win, but there’s the whole male pride thing.”
“That’s fine.” She waves a hand and gathers my empty plate. “When I win, I want it to be because I beat your ass. Not because you let me.”
“I can’t wait. When’s my appointment?”
She checks the clock. “In about an hour. That gives me enough time to get ready…” She stops when something on the counter catches her attention. “And you enough time to talk to your sister.”
“What?”
She holds up the phone, lit with Josie’s photo, highlighting an incoming call from her.
“I guess it’s time,” I concede and take the phone when she passes it to me on her way to the bathroom.
“You’ve got this.” She kisses my hair, and I tuck the significance of the subtle gesture of affection away to dwell on later.
I wait until she closes the door and turns on the shower before hitting the Call Back button.
“Hi, little brother,” Josie says after the first ring, her voice timid and uncertain.
“Hi, Jo Jo.” I use her nickname to settle her nerves.
“How are you?”
“Better.”
“That’s good. I’m sure you got my texts, but I wanted to call and apologize again. Please know that I never—”
“I know. You were just looking out for me like you always do.”
She lets out an audible exhale. “You’re not mad?”
“Not anymore. I’ve had time to think about it, and with the way things are working out, I’m grateful you made that decision.”
“You are? What’s worked out, exactly?” The caution in her tone makes me smile. She’s never been a fan of Nora’s, but after the sacrifices Nora’s made recently, I expect that’s changing.
I glance toward the closed bathroom door and lower my voice. “I think Nora and I have turned a page. She seems to finally be coming to terms with her feelings for me.”
“Oh, Jordan. How many times are you going to let her hurt you?”
“As many times as it takes.”
“Don’t say that.” The words come out on an exasperated exhale.
“I know you don’t want to see me crushed again, but I don’t think that will happen.”
“Jordan, you never think that. That’s the problem. You never see it coming.”
“Even now you believe she’d turn her back on me?” Josie hasn’t experienced Nora’s transformation over the last two days, yet her opinion matters to me.
“What makes you think this time will have a different ending?”
“For starters, she stopped lying. She looks at me differently. We’re going out in public together. We’re no longer sleeping together, which—”
“No longer? Did you sleep with her before you remembered?” Her raised voice shrills through the tiny speaker. I recoil at the assault on my ear, holding it away from my face until she’s finished.
“Josie, calm down. Isn’t that what couples do? I thought we were together.”
“But she knew. The little floozie.”
“I’m not mad it happened. Why are you?” The question only fuels her fury, but it was too tempting to resist.
“Of course, you aren’t, and you know why.”
“Well, we were two consenting adults, and I’m not a child, so…”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll shut up now.”
“Thank you.”
She sighs into the phone again. “I’m happy to hear you’re happy and not angry with me.”
“Oh, I was furious.”
“And I’m happy I missed that, too.”
“When are you coming home?”
“Well, that’s another reason I’m calling. It might be a few more days than expected. Grant is working on getting media interviews after the show, and if all goes well, I might even be on The Today Show.” Her voice squeaks with excitement.
“Josie, that’s amazing.”
“It’s not guaranteed, of course, but if my art catches the attention of a few collectors, there’s a chance this could be the start of something.”
“In that case, I hope I don’t see you for another week.”
“Aww. Thank you. But it’s just not the same without you.”
Wanderlust fills me, and I open my mouth before considering the consequences. “Maybe I can make it after all. I haven’t had any seizures since…you know…and Nora and I are taking a trip to—”
“Where are you going?”
“I was about to tell you before you interrupted.”
“Right. Sorry. I’m a little scatter brained today.”
“It’s not just today, Josie.” I laugh, but the other side of the phone is silent. “Anyway, as I was saying, we’re going to Charlestown.”
“Where’s that?”
“West Virginia. If I handle that well, a trip to New York shouldn’t be too much.”
“Oh, I’d love that so much. But talk to your doctors first. I miss you so much.”
“Miss you, too.”
A sniffle comes through and another. Damn it. I’ve made her cry.
“Josie. Don’t do that.”
“I’m sorry,” she says on a loud, snot-filled inhale. “I’m just so relieved. It’s been hard not talking to you, wondering if you’re okay and if you’ll forgive me. There’s too much to do here and not enough time. They wanted three new pieces to match the theme, and I’ve hardly had a moment to think. I had to pretend to go to the restroom at the restaurant we’re at to get away from Grant long enough to call you. And you know how much I hate public restrooms. Every time the door opens, I expect it to be him coming in to scold me.”
“He is overbearing.”
“Ugh. He’s stressed, too, and making mine worse. But he wants this as badly as I do.”
“It will all be worth it in the end.”
I look over as Nora exits the bathroom—hair wet, cheeks flushed, skin moist, and wearing nothing but a towel. She grins over her shoulder as she bends to sort through her suitcase, exposing more of her long legs. Josie’s voice continues to carry through the phone, but I comprehend none of it as Nora straightens to hold a shirt out in front of her. Without her arms holding the towel in place, it slides down her breasts to the tops of her nipples. A touch of those alluring dark circles peek out above the blue towel, and I—
“Jordan, can you hear me?” Josie asks. I hear her but can form zero words in response when Nora bends over again.
Cleavage and more cleavage glistens in the sunlight as if she rubbed glitter lotion all over her body. Maybe she had, or maybe her skin is just that perfect. Either way, this sexy little display of hers has torched my war strategy as if it never existed. It’s a new game now. If this is how she’s going to play it, all chances of a friendly game is also going up in smoke.
All’s fair in love and war, baby, and it will be fun to remind Nora of my competitive side. I’m not afraid to play dirty and—
“Jordan!”
“What? I’m here. Jeez, sis.”
Nora looks over and bites back a smile as I run my jittery fingers over my hair. She tosses some garments she chose from the suitcase over her shoulder and struts back to the bathroom. Disappointed the show is over, but glad to have a moment to get blood circulating through the brain inside my skull again, I give my full attention to my sister.
“Sorry, something was distracting me.”
“Nora walking around naked or something?”
Caught, I shake my head at how predictable and simple-minded the women in my life must think I am. “Not exactly.”
“Close enough, I bet. I’ll let you go deal with that. Grant will send out the calvary for me if I’m not back soon.”
“Okay. Knock ’em dead, Jo Jo, and remember to enjoy it.”
“I will. Hope to see you soon. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Tossing the phone onto the cushion, I let my head drop back while thoughts of Nora and our recent conversations spin out of control. Why did I ever say Nora and I should work on being friends first? It’s clear she desires more than just friendship. Right? Isn’t that why she’s teasing me with the towel bit and smiling when I react the way she knew I would? Or am I manifesting again?
Reading her is near impossible these days. She’s different than I remember, and I’ve learned things about her that amaze me. It’s bringing us closer, yet it feels like there’s more she’s not telling me.
No. I made the right choice. We need to get to know each other without sex complicating our do-over. If I’m going to make Nora mine forever, we must build a stronger foundation. One built on trust, friendship, and admiration. Sex can come after that. The icing on the cake. A finale worth waiting for. Making love instead of reacting on our lust.
That’s what I want.
End of story.
Now, can someone please tell that to my dick?