She was incredible. So fucking young. So many years ahead of her to turn all of her greatness into something even more phenomenal.
But she wouldn’t do any of it if she lost herself on him. The way she drank him in when he lifted her off the stage, desire darkening those irises to a coppery brown. It took everything in him not to fuck her against the stage.
No way he’d ruin her. He was a thirty-eight-year-old ex-con who had no business doing anything more than building her stages and making sure she stayed safe.
Which was exactly why he was here pretending to reorganize a perfectly organized equipment room, trying not to think about how long and toned her legs looked in those mile-high stilettos.
He didn’t need to be here, and he was certain she knew that. Did she think it was weird that he loitered for no reason while they rehearsed? Or did it make her feel safer?
Judging by the way he’d noticed her scanning the gym every once in a while, a smile lighting her face when her gaze landed on him, he figured she was okay with him being there.
New shouts echoed in the gym, and he abandoned the clipboard he’d been taking inventory on to investigate.
Beck and Murray were sauntering into the gym in their teenage uniform of baggy pants and oversized hoodies, heading straight for the girls who were taking their turns walking down the catwalk.
Jordan headed to intercept them. “Gentlemen,” he drawled. “What are you doing here? No practice today.” He scanned Murray up and down.
Since the incident in the hallway, the young man had started attending basketball practice, but Jordan knew that he had a rough home life and was still finding his way, so he kept a close eye on him.
“Rory texted last night. Said they needed help building the stage.” He nodded to the completed catwalk. “Looks like they got it done.”
“Looks like,” Jordan replied.
Beck shrugged, not taking his eyes off the stage. Jordan glanced over his shoulder and noticed it was Rory’s turn to walk.
“So I guess they don’t need you,” Jordan said, drawing Beck’s attention back to him.
“Guess not.” Poor kid sounded as disappointed as Jordan had ever heard him.
“What else do you two have going on today?” He knew Beck worked part time at a garage. As far as he knew,Murray didn’t have a job yet, but he hadn’t developed enough of a relationship yet with the kid to dig deeper.
What he’d noticed though, was that Murray had been spending more time with Beck, which was either a good thing for Murray…or a bad thing for Beck.
“Nothin’,” Beck admitted.
Jordan glared pointedly at Murray. “You?”
He shrugged.
Jordan exhaled loudly. They’d come here to help out and fill their time in a positive way. If they left now, God knew how they’d spend their afternoon.
“Come on,” he said, leading the boys over to Vanessa, who was standing at the edge of the stage offering feedback.
She had a gift for critiquing without sounding harsh. Well, unless it was aimed at him, of course. The girls were lucky to have her guidance.
She greeted him with a smile, and the way her eyes crinkled at the edges had desire firing right to his dick. Fuck.
“Hey,” she said, her voice raspy, probably from all the talking she’d done. “What’s up?”
“These two thought they were coming to help with the stage.” He jerked his thumb at Beck and Murray. “I guess one of the girls thought they could use an extra pair of hands.”
“We would have,” Vanessa said through another heart-stopping smile. She leaned up to him and whispered, “But then somebody spent all night doing it all by himself.”
Christ, she was going to kill him. Turned out sweet, endearing Vanessa was almost as lethal as demanding, high-maintenance Vanessa.
He cleared his throat and didn’t miss the flicker of hurt in her features when he took a small step away from her.Self-preservation,he told himself.
“Do you have anything for them to do since they’re here anyway?” He glanced at the boys, who were mesmerized by what was happening on the stage. “Polish shoes with toothbrushes or something.”
