Chapter Thirteen
Ismoothed downthe skirt of the knit wrap dress that Lucy and Chelsea helped me pick out on our shopping trip. The material was so soft that I’d bought two sweaters of the same fabric, even though it was outrageously expensive. The dark teal color was just as rich and elegant as the material and it looked fantastic against my pale skin and auburn hair.
It wasn’t something I would have chosen off the rack for myself, but Lucy and Chelsea urged me to try it on and I was glad.
While it was casual enough for brunch, especially since I paired it with a pair of light gray knee high boots with a low heel, I could dress it up with pumps and jewelry and wear it to work. Because of that, I allowed Lucy and Chelsea to talk me into buying it.
I could hear Jordan moving around in the bathroom, shaving and brushing his teeth, and I knew he would be ready to leave soon. Quickly, I put the finishing touches on my make-up and put on my perfume.
When I heard Jordan enter the bedroom, I turned and felt my knees go weak. He wore a pair of slate gray slacks with a dark blue shirt that made his eyes stand out. He was so handsome that I could barely stand to look at him.
It seemed I wasn’t the only one making an effort to look my best.
“You look very handsome,” I told him.
Jordan stood in the doorway, unmoving.
“Jordan?” I prompted. “Everything okay?”
“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured. “Absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you,” I replied, my body heating beneath his avid gaze.
“Now, I’m not going to kiss you because we won’t make the brunch if I do.” I smiled at his admission. I liked that I affected him as much as he affected me. “I’ll start the car while you finish up and we’ll leave when you’re ready.”
I watched him leave the room, my smile growing wider. The distant, reserved Jordan I’d known in the past seemed to melt away with each passing day. At least when it was the two of us.
At work, he was still unflappable, aloof, and intimidating. The contrast between his professional facade and the man he revealed behind closed doors was incredibly sexy. I knew without a doubt that he showed me a side of him very few people got to see.
I double checked my make-up and quickly moved the contents of my purse into another smaller bag. After one last glance in the mirror, I was ready to go.
When I emerged from the hall, I found Jordan waiting by the front door, wearing his coat and holding mine draped over his arm. His eyes were on me as I turned the corner and he smiled as I approached him. Then he held out my coat, helping me into it.
The old-fashioned gesture made my heart flutter in my chest. I never thought of myself as the type of woman who would enjoy a man helping me with my coat or pulling my chair out at the table, but I did. Every time Jordan did something like that for me, it made me feel cherished and special.
It never bothered me when other men didn’t open doors for me or help me in and out of the car. I was perfectly capable of doing those things for myself.
But when Jordan made the effort, it never made me feel as though he thought of me as less. It seemed like second nature to him—an extension of his view of me. He cared for me, respected me, and demonstrated it in a tangible way.
I may not have needed Jordan to perform those acts, buthewanted to. For that reason alone, I let myself enjoy his old-fashioned manners.
My nerves intensified as Jordan drove to the restaurant. I hadn’t been this nervous for a meal in my life. I realized I was fidgeting and forced myself to stop. There were people in the office that called me the Snow Queen because they thought I was cold and detached. God, what a laugh they would have right now if they knew how anxious I truly was.
Jordan reached over and took my left hand, pulling it over the console to rest in on his thigh. Immediately, the nerves buzzing beneath my skin calmed, as if his very touch soothed them.
I wasn’t worried about what my father would think of Jordan because I knew he would like him. Even if Jordan kept his guard of cool reserve in place, my dad would probably still approve because it was clear by his position in the firm that he was a hard worker and talented attorney. What would seal the deal was the fact that Jordan would hold the door, pull out my chair, and help me with my coat. Dad might have raised me to be an independent woman, but he still believed good manners were important and, as far as my father was concerned, those behaviors were just that.
It didn’t surprise me that Jordan chose a restaurant renowned for their delicious brunch or that offered valet parking. Though he never said it aloud, I knew he wanted to make a good impression with my dad and that meant a lot to me. The fact that he made an effort said more than any words ever could.
My father was already waiting at the bar, a Bloody Mary in hand, when we entered. He smiled and came toward us when he saw me.
“You look beautiful, Tanya,” he said, giving me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, Dad. I would like to introduce you to Jordan Hawke. Jordan, this is my father, Will Blake.”
As they shook hands, Jordan stated, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blake.”
My dad’s grin widened and I wondered if he’d had more than one Bloody Mary already. He looked entirely too pleased with himself, which made me nervous. “Call me Will.”
