He returns to the plates of food and places the small bowls of fruit on each one.
“Tell Chase you forgot you made plans with me.”
The euphoria of being held against him dampens.
“Jordan, I’m not going to drop my plans or rearrange my day just because you get a burr up your butt and demand it.”
“Hey, don’t do that.”
I brace my hands on his hips with my elbows bent. “Do what specifically?”
“Get all defensive and think the worst. I honestly just want to spend time with you today.”
He renders me speechless with a sweet kiss on the cheek, then picks up two breakfast plates and walks out onto the back patio.
I stand there struck dumb, wondering how any of this is real. It can’t be, I remind myself. Nothing good ever happens to me. The wish I kept making at the Wishing Tree isn’t going to come true. Jordan’s attentions won’t last. He’ll move on to the next woman who catches his interest when he tires of plain, uninteresting, frumpy me. And we’ll always havethat nightbetween us, quietly festering like an open wound that won’t heal properly.
With a weary scrub of my hands down my face, I pick up the remaining plate he wasn’t able to carry and follow him.
“Good morning, sweet pea.” I don’t miss the happy gleam in Natalie’s eyes.
I ignore the rush of embarrassment at being caught earlier with Jordan in my bedroom. I’m a grown-ass woman, not a child.
“Morning,” I reply and walk over to press a kiss to the top of her head. Sweet mint and eucalyptus, a smell that I’ll forever associate with her. Wanting to make sure she has taken her medications, I ask, “Have you—”
“Yes,” she answers before I can finish and shoos at me. “Now sit down and tuck in. Donna will be here soon to pick me up for church.”
I take my usual seat in the rocking chair next to her, and Jordan stands across from me, leaning on the railing like he usually does. The early morning air is crisp and cool, and I breathe it in. Being close to the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, it’s rare to have low humidity days where the air isn’t thick and saturated with oppressive moisture, even in the winter.
The tremor in Natalie’s hand rattles her fork as she cuts into the omelet. My eyes meet Jordan’s, and we share a look of concern.
Taking a bite, Natalie hums as she chews. “Your mama could cook up a storm.”
Jordan smiles, and I lose my breath. He is too gorgeous for his own good on any given day, but a smiling Jordan is a devastatingly handsome sight to behold.
“Did you know she did a tour of Italy? One of those immersive cooking experiences.”
I watch the myriad of emotions that cross Jordan’s face. “Uh, no, I didn’t.”
“It was soon after she found out she was pregnant with you.”
He winces slightly, something I would’ve missed if I hadn’t been looking right at him. I’m sure, just like with Harper, he doesn’t want to be reminded of his biological father. The man must have been a major asshole—and not only because he sired and abandoned almost a dozen children with different women.
I never really knew my dad. He was a wheeled vehicle mechanic in the army. He died in the Iraq War when I was three. The only memories I have of him are through pictures Mom took of him and me and Amelia. I look like him. At least that’s something, right?
Hoping a change of subject will help ease the tension I can feel coming off Jordan, I say, “I was thinking of tackling the front steps today. I have to go into town anyway, so I’ll pick up supplies at the hardware store. It shouldn’t be too hard to replace the rotten boards with new ones… I think.”
Jordan smirks at my hopeless cluelessness. “You may need some help.”
I poke the omelet with my fork a few times like I’m testing to see if it’s dead. I’m hungry and want to eat it but can’t seem to take that first bite. I focus on the fruit bowl instead and eat a piece of cantaloupe. A little bitter and tough but edible. Melons don’t come into season until summer, so it’s hard to find a ripe one any other time of the year.
“I know a contractor in Conroe. I’ll call him to see if he can come take a look around and give us a rundown on things that need to be fixed.”
Knowing he means well, I try hard not to get irritated at the implied ‘royal we’ he infers, but I need to set some boundaries. If I don’t, Jordan will bulldoze over me and try to fix everything. The house. My money woes.Me. I don’t want or need his money to fix my problems. What I do need is to be able to stand on my own. Know that I’m strong enough now to handle whatever comes my way. It’s important to me. To make my own choices. To succeed but also to fail. So little of my life has been within my control.
“Thank you for the offer, but I want to do it. It’ll be fun to learn. If I have any questions, I know who to ask.”
He frowns at my allusion to Chase.
