A shadow passed over his eyes as he handed it to her. “My mom taught me how to cook. She said a man should know how to feed himself and not make it anyone else’s problem.”
“Sounds like a wise woman.” She sipped her coffee and let out a soft moan as the rich liquid exploded on her taste buds. It might not have come from her espresso machine, but it was pretty damn good.
“She raised me and Sean to take care of ourselves and others.” He flipped another piece of bacon, then stared at the pan. “I failed her for most of my life.” A few seconds passed with nothing but the sound of meat sizzling between them. “She died disappointed in me.”
The way he said it, as though it were a simple fact and not the most gut-wrenching thing she’d ever heard, made her heart ache for him.
“You don’t know that.” Her hand itched to reach for his, to comfort the man who’d spent so long in his own head, he’d come to believe he was some kind of monster.
“I do know it.” He transferred the bacon to a plate lined with paper towel, then picked up a mixing bowl and poured batter into the pan, creating three perfect circles in thegrease. “The doctors said there was nothing they could do. The disease was advanced. Our insurance sucked. She knew she was dying.”
Vanessa tried to imagine a scenario where one of her parents was critically ill and didn’t have access to medical care. It made her feel sick.
“For a while, Sean and I both worked to pay for the medicine she needed to keep her comfortable. Sean worked legitimate jobs and I—” He concentrated on the bubbles popping up in the batter. “I brought home the cash we needed.”
“Your mother was dying. You did whatever you had to do.”
The laugh that huffed out of him was a cold and empty sound. “Make no mistake, princess. They say stress kills, and no one caused her more stress than I did.”
“Jordan—” She shook her head. What could she say when her heart was bleeding out for him, and he stood there flipping pancakes like he was telling her the weather report?
He was opening up, confiding in her, and as much as she wanted to soothe him with a hug, she also didn’t want him to stop being vulnerable with her. So she watched him in silence.
“I know what I am, what I did. I know she lost faith in me, and worse, lost trust.” He transferred the pancakes to a plate. “I know I don’t get an automatic pass because I’ve been a good boy for a couple years. Absolution isn’t that easy. The kind of penance I have to do will take decades, but none of that is going to stop me from asking you for something you’re not going to want to give me.”
Her heart pounded in her chest, so loud she swore she could hear it over the sizzle of the pan. When he turned toher, his gaze was blistering, scorching her with the heat of a thousand suns.
He was already wrong, because in that moment he could’ve asked her for anything, and she would’ve laid it at his feet. “What is it?”
“I need you to trust me. No questions, no arguments, no storming off or giving me a death glare like you always do when I ask you to do something. Just…trust me, this once.”
“I don’t give you a dea?—”
“Vanessa,” he bit out, his eyes hard, unwavering. “I’m serious.Thisis serious. Will you trust me?”
She bit her lower lip, because he was being serious. But so was she. There was only one answer. She nodded.
“We’re going to eat, and then we’re leaving.”
Sounded too good to be true. “Oh-kay,” she said slowly. “To where?”
“I’m not telling you.” He maintained eye contact, watching her closely. It was both unnerving and admirable that he could stay so cool and in control when her entire nervous system whirled like it had been run through an electric mixer.
“For how long?” Her voice barely wavered, and she gave herself a mental pat on the back.
“A few days. Maybe more.”
A few days?“I have the fashion show in New York next week. I have to be there at least the day before for final fittings.”
“We’ll talk about that when we need to. Right now, the priority is getting out of here.”
It was a funny thing, but the calmer he sounded, the more panicked she became. “Is he—” She couldn’t even say it. Think it. “Do you think he wants to hurt me?”
“I think he’s a crazy motherfucker who broke into yourhome, stole your underwear, and photographed you while you were naked. He’s already hurt you, and I’m not taking any chances that he’ll try again.”
She inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to remember the breathing techniques she’d learned he’d taught her recently. Nothing came to her mind. It had been wiped blank under Jordan’s penetrating stare and the terrifying reality of the situation.
“Okay.” She focused on the plate of bacon while she tried to make sense of everything he’d said. “Can I call my sister and my parents while we eat?”
