“Do you see my phone? I need to check on Natalie.”
Jordan picks up the bowl of fruit and snuggles in next to me. “Already did.”
“You did?”
He holds a strawberry up to my mouth, and I give him a look of ‘really?’
I bite into the juicy, red fruit. “You don’t have to hand feed me all the time.” Even though I thoroughly enjoyed it last night because of what happened afterward.
“I read somewhere that it’s an innate genetic instinct for a man to provide sustenance for his woman. Goes back to caveman days.”
I lick the tart juices from my lips. “You’re making that up.”
He shrugs and grins.
“Was Natalie okay?” I ask, washing down the fruit with more coffee.
He pops a grape in his mouth, then leans over to kiss me, letting me taste the tartness.
“She said for you not to rush home, then congratulated me.”
Lovely. My aunt knows I spent a night of sin with Jordan.
“She leaves tomorrow morning on the six-a.m. flight. I want to take her to the airport, which means she and I will need to leave the house around what? Three?”
It takes an hour to drive to Bush Intercontinental. I’m not looking forward to being up that early, especially since I didn’t get much sleep last night.
Jordan rests his head on my shoulder and peers up at me. “She could take one of the Montgomery jets. I could ask Trevor to have one flown here today and have it prepped and ready to go. Hell, I could charter a private jet for her, or she could use the money I put into the account to do it.”
My mouth falls open before I’m able to shut it. First, because of his offer, and second, because he ignored Natalie when she told him she didn’t want the money and ignored me when I told him to drop it. I know he means well and wants to help, so that’s what I focus on.
As I drink my coffee, figuring out the best way to graciously decline his offer once again, I survey his bedroom. I didn’t get the chance to last night because it was dark, and we were occupied doing other things. I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe to see silk wall coverings, leather, and large furniture pieces. Some rare antiques placed about or perhaps a few pieces of gallery artwork hanging from the walls.
On the contrary, Jordan’s personal space is simple. Two paisley-upholstered wing-backed chairs that look like he uses them more for draping clothes on, sit in front of a large floor-to-ceiling window. A dark oak dresser that matches his California-king bed and nightstand is against the far wall, with a wide-screen television above it. There’s a gas fireplace on the other side of the room opposite the seating area. That’s it. No paintings hanging on the wall or knickknacks other than a few framed photographs.
I alter my opinion after having a look around. It may be simple, but it also feels empty. Lonely. Is that how Jordan has felt all these years?
I accept the piece of toast he holds up and take a small bite.
“You up for a swim later?” he asks, digging into the eggs.
“Um, not really. I don’t have a suit with me—”
“Don’t need one.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“—and I also want to spend the day with Natalie since she’ll be leaving tomorrow,” I finish, but my brain is now conjuring up images of the two of us skinny dipping.
Jordan hands me the plate of food and gets out of bed. His sweatpants hang so low on his hips that I get a nice, teasing view of his backside and the top curve of his ass.
He disappears into a walk-in closet, then comes back out holding a duffel bag.
“Are you going somewhere?”
He gives me that boyish, dimpled smile that makes me weak in the knees. “Yep. With you. If you can’t sleep here, then I’m spending the night with you.”
I don’t get a chance to respond because my phone starts ringing.
It’s Harper. And I know exactly why she’s calling.
