“You could have driven me to rehab the next day. That’s not an excuse.”
“I’m aware,” he says mildly. He glances up at me. “What was she thanking me for yesterday?”
“I bought her a new wardrobe and told her the team paid for it, because you’ve made her so independent that she’d never accept my help. I moved her into my guesthouse because she was living in a shitty apartment, and now that she’s part of the Storm, she’s part of our family.”
My heart pounds, a protective, urgent feeling in my chest.
“It’s about time someone started looking after Jordan. She’s been alone long enough.” I give him a hard look. “Go home, Ross. I’m starting to think you’re a workaholic.”
And with that, I leave his office.
CHAPTER 32
TATE
That evening,I’m getting ready for bed when there’s a scratching noise at my bedroom door.
I open it and Phoebe the cat sits at the threshold of my bedroom, staring up at me with those soulless eyes.
And Jordan’s panties dangle from her teeth.
My thoughts blank out but before I can figure out what to do, the cat drops the scrap of navy blue lace and streaks down the hall, snorting and wheezing.
I stare down at the panties, frozen. Bea informed me the other day that cats bring gifts to people they like.
But Jordan’s panties are not a gift.
I mean—they are. They’re another glimpse into a woman I want to know more about, but they’re so beyond the line of appropriate.
I should throw them out. Or give them back to her, but that would be weird.
It would be an excuse to talk to her, and to check in after the event last night. I’ve been thinking about what Ross told me all day. I owe her an apology.
At any rate, I should stop staring at the underwear. Any minute now. I take a deep breath, unable to tear my eyes from them.
When I reach down to pick them up, the lace is soft, and I picture her wearing them. I rub the fabric between my thumb andforefinger and images of me sliding them off her race through my mind.
I could keep them.
At my bedroom windows, I peer down at the guesthouse. The lights are still on.
And with that, I head downstairs.
CHAPTER 33
JORDAN
It’s latewhen there’s a knock at the door of my guesthouse.
“Hi,” Tate says when I open the door before he smiles at the Dunkaroos in my hand. “She’s still bringing you those?”
I try not to look sheepish. “I bought these. I told Bea she doesn’t need to give hers to me and that she can have them anytime here.” Something occurs to me. “Sorry, I don’t know if that’s okay. I should have asked you first?—”
“It’s fine,” he says with a funny look on his face. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”
“It’s not completely out of character for me to think about someone other than myself.”
But after last night, after he basically told me I was selfish and heartless for putting up a boundary with my father, maybe this is surprising to him.
