“I’m not hungry.” The words flew out of his mouth, making him sound like a growly, petulant child.
It didn’t seem to matter to Jordan in the least, as he raised a blond brow and drawled in that infuriating prep-school voice, “But I am. And Wanda said—”
“I know what she said; however, you don’t have to do what she says.” But all of a sudden he wanted to have lunch with the man. Otherwise it would be another boring Saturday at the gym and on his sofa, waiting for night to fall.
Perhaps Jordan saw Luke’s needy desperation, but more likely the man wanted to get his own way. “I never do what anyone tells me to unless I want to. Would you mind if we picked something up along the way? I have to go home, but I”—for the first time today, Jordan looked vulnerable as he bit his lip—“I wouldn’t mind some company.” He raked his hand through his hair.
That’s when Luke noticed it. The dull gold shine winking through the thick, pale strands of Jordan’s hair. A band, not too wide but still substantial, encircled the ring finger of his left hand. It hadn’t been there the first time they’d met. So, although Jordan had physically seemed to move on with his life after Keith’s death, the emotional reality remained.
Even so, Luke wondered in the back of his mind, how do the flawed and damaged living ever measure up to the perfection of the dead?
Chapter Five
Christ, the man was touchy. Jordan blinked in the bright, cold sunlight as he and Lucas stepped out onto the street. Traffic whizzed by them on First Avenue, cars and taxis filled with busy people with busy lives.
Lucas’s bristling reluctance to be there with him forced Jordan to offer a way out of lunch. “Look, Lucas. If you really don’t want to hang out with me, you can take off. But I’m offering lunch at my house. I have to check on something; otherwise I’d be happy to try the seafood place Wanda suggested.” Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Rain check on the restaurant?”
Jordan didn’t know who was more startled at the invitation, him or Lucas. It presupposed there’d be more opportunities to spend time together. Somehow that didn’t upset him as he thought it might. What it did was confuse him.
“I’d like that. I, um, don’t have any plans for the rest of the day, if you don’t mind.”
Unaccustomed happiness settled in Jordan’s chest, and, more content than he ought to be, he broke into a full-fledged smile. “Then come on. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He hurried down the steps, his arm out to hail a cab back to his brownstone in Chelsea. A cab pulled up to the curb, and he was pulling open the door, ready to climb inside, when he realized Lucas wasn’t there next to him. When he looked back over his shoulder, Lucas still stood on the steps of the shelter, an unreadable look on his face.
Motioning to the cabbie to wait, he ran back. “What are you waiting for? Come on.”
Lucas slanted him a funny look. “Who do you want me to meet and why?”
“Come on, stop being so stubborn.” Jordan yanked on Lucas’s arm, physically pulled him into the waiting cab. “It’ll be fine. Everyone I know has been nagging me to move on and start living my life again, so that’s what I did.” The cab whizzed in and out of traffic, in typical frantic fashion, and their bodies slid toward each other, then moved apart. For the first time in months, blood heated Jordan’s veins. Perhaps it was the press of his arm against the hardness of Lucas’s. He hadn’t touched another man since Keith. A ridiculous surge of excitement had him grinning at Lucas in spite of the guy’s strained expression. “Why do you look so unhappy?”
“I’m not.” But the words came out gruff and somewhat hostile.
Admittedly, Jordan was curious about Lucas’s life story, and wrapped up in his own personal misery as he was, even he could tell Lucas not only had walls around him, he had a fucking moat complete with piranhas swimming in the water, ready to rip anyone to shreds if they dared to get close enough.
There was nothing Jordan enjoyed more than a challenge, and Lucas Conover was nothing if not a challenge.
Mercifully, the cab slowed, then stopped in front of the brownstone. Jordan tossed some bills over the divider and opened the door. “We’re here. Come.”
This time, he wasn’t mistaken; a flicker of something dark yet hesitant shadowed Lucas’s eyes.
“Come on. It’ll be fine, promise.”
Finally Lucas slid out of the cab and joined him on the sidewalk. “This is a nice place. If I remember correctly, you haven’t lived here that long, have you?”
A throb of sorrow pulsed in his chest, but Jordan had vowed not to be dragged down today.Time to start living, Jordan. Take everyone’s advice. Move on; move on. “We bought it about two years ago. It was a total wreck and took over a year to renovate, but it was a blast.” They trudged up the steps, and Jordan swung the black wrought-iron gate closed behind them with aclang. A large golden pomegranate gleamed above the glass panes of the front door, under the stained-glass fanlight.
Jordan unlocked the door and waved Lucas to follow him down the hallway. “You want a beer or anything?”
“Nah, I’m fine.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Lucas craning his neck to look into the spacious rooms as they passed by. It was a typical twenty-five-feet-wide brownstone, with the staircase on the left, the polished mahogany newels of the banister marching up toward the second story like wooden soldiers. The front parlor had a beautiful bay window overlooking the front garden. A wide window seat curved around, with his mother’s colorful needlepoint pillows piled high, offering an inviting place to curl up and watch the world go by.
Jordan viewed his home with pride. The original tin ceilings were beautifully restored, and the inlaid polished wood floors gleamed with the obvious care he’d lavished on them. Each fireplace had intricately cut copper gates fanned out in front of them, and pictures crowded the mantels, evidencing that happier times once took place in the house.
Lucas wandered to the photographs. Jordan didn’t need to look; he knew them all by heart. There was one of their only Christmas here together, a towering spruce tree in the background, lit by dazzling lights. His parents and him on the day of his graduation from medical school. A picture of him and Keith the night they got engaged, as well as pictures of him with Mike and Drew as young kids, through life’s milestones, in their high school and then college caps and gowns, up until about a year ago.
Sunlight streamed in through the front window, creating waving patterns on the floor from the sheer, lacy curtains. The beams hit the back of Luke’s head, highlighting the gleam of his chestnut curls. Pictures floated through Jordan’s mind, like a vintage movie from the silent era. Highlights of his life played in flickering images, and he lost himself in memories.
Thanksgiving dinner with all their friends and family together. A strong, warm arm slipped around his waist.
“I’ve waited a long time for you.”
