“I just think we should give it more time,” I say, brushing my fingertips over the worry lines, furrowing her brow.
“I don’t like that you feel this way. I’m going to talk to Dad and Jared.”
“Please don’t. Let me handle it.”
* * *
In one of those negotiations where you know you don’t stand a chance, Jordyn had gotten her way and invited Pops for dinner. I’m actually glad he’s here. I could use the moral support.
Simone Sinclair extends her effusive warmth to Pops and me. She’s the kind of woman that could enter a room full of strangers and come out with ten friends. Pops, being a veteran and his charismatic self, is a big hit with Dillon and Jared Sinclair. He regales them with stories and bad jokes. I envy him for his ease with people.
I’d gotten brisk handshakes and the perfunctory “How are you,” but no chit-chat and certainly no smiles or laughter. The fact that her father hasn’t attempted the what-are-your-intentions discussion only serves to confirm he hopes I won’t be around for long. But I can’t put all the responsibility on them. I haven’t tried as much as I could. I’m reserved by nature and get too in my head. I’ve also made certain assumptions that are filtered by how I’d probably feel if I were a brother or father in this situation, and that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Jordyn’s eyes always find me as she circulates with her family. She’s coming over to me, where I’m standing off near the fireplace, observing the dynamics, when her father intercepts her approach.
“Peanut.” Mr. Sinclair slides an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “How’s my baby girl?”
“I’m good, Dad. Super busy. Since we won that design award, we’ve had an increase in business, which pleases Athena.”
“How’s it going with Talon?”
“He’s there,” she shrugs. “He stays out of my way, mostly. It’s all good.”
“If he hassles you—”
“I’m fine, Dad.”
I can understand his warning after the situation with Russo.
Pops rolls up to me, wearing a bowtie for the occasion and holding a small plate of hors d’oeuvres on his lap that Jordyn had fixed him. Mrs. Sinclair always puts on a nice spread. But the knots in my stomach aren’t making anything seem appetizing at the moment.
“Boy, you look like you could use a shot of whiskey.”
“Try the whole bottle.”
“You’re overthinking this, Junior,” he says, aware of my plan. “Just speak from your heart. You got this.”
I hope he’s right. I’d selected a pair of graphite-gray slacks with razor-sharp creases and a crisp white shirt beneath a black V-neck sweater. I’m overdressed compared to Jordyn, who looks good in worn jeans and a fangirl sweatshirt with Luciana Aymar on the front holding a hockey stick. But she doesn’t have to impress her family. I do.
As close as Jordyn is to her father and brother, I wouldn’t want their concerns about me to ever cause a wedge between them. I love her too much to let that happen.
Over the last week, I’ve carefully thought about what I would say. I’d even practiced it on Mick, whom I’ve become friendly with. But I’m not an eloquent speaker like he is. I’m a strategist, a planner, the man who orchestrates behind the scenes. I don’t give speeches. I’ve been less scared in the line of fire than I am right now. But I’m about to take that leap without any protective armor, with just my heart in my hand.
I step forward and clear my throat. “May I have everyone’s attention for a moment, please?”
They all look over at me with some form of surprise and curiosity. Jordyn cocks her head, and her eyebrows lift in a what-are-you-doing expression.
Rapid heartbeats and staccato breaths keep company in my chest, but it’s her face, that gorgeous face with a sprinkling of freckles, that grounds me.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair,” I begin by addressing her parents directly. “Thank you for opening up your home to my grandfather and me. You have a wonderful family and have raised an incredible daughter. I see how much Jordyn is loved and how much she loves you in return. Because of it, she’s secure, strong, and independent. Jordyn has her own mind and isn’t afraid to use it.” That garners laughs and murmurs of assent.
“But I also know she cares about what you think. I care about that too. That’s why I wanted to take this opportunity to say a few things.” The room goes so silent I can hear myself breathing. I take in all the stares of anticipation and the encouragement from Pops but zero in on the hazel eyes that are my home.
“When I left the army and moved from Colorado, I legally changed my name from Jay Bailey to J.D. Stiles because I didn’t want to be that man. I had no respect for him. My grandfather was always in my corner; he always believed in me. But I didn’t feel worthy of it, just as I didn’t feel worthy of Jordyn.”
“I’m sorry for all the times I hurt her. I fought myself and turned my feelings inside and out. For reasons that you’re aware of, I wasn’t free to give her my heart then.”
“I was lost…grieved and ashamed. I will never fully be over what happened to Lilah and the part I played. I wouldn’t think it was right if I could be. But facing my past and seeing that Lilah has found a way to move forward, despite everything, has given me permission to move forward too. And I want that, thanks to Jordyn.
