I realized that would have been when his parents died and, without thinking, I pressed my lips over his heart.
Jordan’s arms tightened around me. “She was younger than my father by nearly ten years, so not quite thirty, and she had no husband or children of her own. It was a big adjustment for us both, but she was wonderful.”
“So she was your father’s sister?” I asked quietly, not wanting to interrupt but desperate for any sliver of information he was willing to give me.
“His half-sister, yes. That’s why there was such a big age difference. My grandfather left England after he and my grandmother divorced and remarried here in America.”
I was curious about that situation, but right now I wanted to focus on how Jordan grew up and more of his personal history.
“Aunt Joyce was living in Dallas at the time. I’d visited her several times with my parents, but never during the summer. Usually, we came to visit on Christmas break or during the spring. When I got here, it was August and I remember thinking that I must have moved to hell because it was so hot.”
I nodded against his chest. The heat would have been at its most intense in Texas during August.
“Joyce immediately drove us both straight to a fast food restaurant and bought us milkshakes before she took me home.” He paused again, so long I wondered if had fallen asleep. “I’ll never forget that first summer here. It was the hardest, but Joyce did everything she could to help me cope and to distract me. She dragged me to amusement parks, water parks, museums, arcades, and any other place an eleven-year-old boy would find fun or trouble.” His chest vibrated against my ear as he laughed softly. “In fact, I think she encouraged me to get into trouble far more than I would have done on my own.”
“What?” I asked with a smile, enjoying the feel and sound of his laughter.
“My father often described Joyce as a bit of a hellion,” he explained. “At twenty-nine, she was still a little wild.” He laughed again, louder this time. “Even now that she’s fifty-four, she’s feisty.”
My smile widened at his description of his aunt and the warm affection in his voice. Not only was he telling me about his past, he was opening up to me, sharing his emotions freely. There was no hint of his usual reserve in his tone or manner.
“I like her already,” I murmured, kissing his breastbone once again before settling deeper into his body. My pleasantly relaxed mind was moving quickly toward sleep and as much as I wanted Jordan to continue assuaging my curiosity, I could barely keep my eyes open.
“I’m absolutely certain she’ll like you too,” he replied.
“Good. I want her to like me,” I muttered, closing my eyes for just a moment, unable to fight the weight of my eyelids any longer. “It’s important to me.”
“Why?”
Vaguely hearing his question as I drifted off, I mumbled, “Because you’re important to me.” I couldn’t hear what he murmured in reply but I felt his arms pulling me closer and the press of his lips against my hair.
Unable to resist the allure of sleep, I let myself go and drifted away into sweet dreams.
