I continue to watch her eat her food until her plate is completely clean. A fact that has me prouder than I should be. I’m going to make it my new mission for the next two weeks to make sure she’s well fed and taken care of.
I get up to grab her empty plate, but she beats me to it. “Let me take yours,” she says, holding out her hand. “I’ll do the dishes. It’s the least I can do for such a wonderful meal.”
I stand up with my plate and shake my head. “No, you’re my guest. Let me.”
She bites her bottom lip and then says, “Why don’t we do it together? That way I feel useful.”
I don’t want her to have to lift a finger while she’s here, but I know she’s stubborn, so I relent. “Fine. Together.” Plus, it will give me another chance to be close to her.
She washes while I dry, and we spend the next few minutes in comfortable silence, grinning at each other every time a dish is passed between us.
If I were on the outside looking in, I would probably vomit because I’m pretty sure we look like lovesick fools. Or maybe I’m just projecting.
She looks around the kitchen after we’re done cleaning up. “So…I guess I’m going to head to bed.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder towards the guest room.
I lean my back against the sink and grip onto the edge like my life depends on it. “Sounds good,” I say back to her and smile.
She turns to head to her room, and I can hear the door click as she shuts herself in for the night.
I let out a long breath and throw the drying towel that’s on my shoulder onto the countertop. Why does everything have to be so difficult? If I weren’t on the job, and if she weren’t in such a vulnerable state, I would have had her underneath me by now.
But that’s not our situation.
I turn off all the lights and head to bed too. I need a distraction from the thought of her breathy moans and those full lips sucking down fettuccine noodles and decide to log onto my laptop. Brad and Candy have most definitely scammed people before, and I’ve decided that they need a taste of their own medicine. I set up an ad as a photographer in the surrounding area, trying to bait them. I’m not sure if they only rob photographers, but I’m willing to bet that they probably keep to the stuff they know.
I’ve been filtering through people who actually want to shoot a session with no such luck so far. But tonight, I have one unopened message from someone responding to the ad. I open it up and it's from a couple named Diamond and Brock.
The message says they wouldloveto meet up this week, with a bunch of heart and winky face emojis. Kyle said this Candy woman acted like she was ten years younger than she really was, and from the way Diamond is presenting herself in the message, I can deduce that this is the one and only Candy.
The use of another stripper name is a dead giveaway too.
I respond, asking if Friday at sunset would work.
A few minutes later I get a confirmation message.
Jordan may have had a shitty past couple of weeks, but I’m hoping I can make it up to her.
I put my laptop on the bedside table and close my eyes with a smile on my face.
I’m pretty sure tonight I’m going to sleep better than I have since I arrived in Daybreak.
Chapter 12
Jordan
Iwake up the next morning surprisingly rested. My pride yesterday didn’t want to accept Lucas’s offer to stay at his place, but the guy is persistent. I’m so used to doing everything on my own and having to stay in control all the time, that when we got to his place, I couldn’t hold my tears back any longer.
There’s something about him that brings out the crier in me, or he’s just really good at catching me in some of my most vulnerable moments.
I make my way to the bathroom with my duffle bag and notice the living room lights are already on. That’s where I find Lucas doing push-ups, shirtless.
I swallow hard.
The man is ripped. He has the body of a freaking ninja, and the longer I stare the hotter I get. He doesn’t have his glasses on, and his hair is a disheveled mess of sweaty waves. It takes everything in me to not step out there and lick the sweat beading off his temple. The mere thought has my core aching, so I turn around and tiptoe into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. This man has me all mixed up. He’s incredibly attentive andkind and has the body of a Greek god. He’s so out of my league it’s laughable.
Last night when he wrapped me in a hug on his lap and I felt his ginormous erection, all I could think about was him kissing me. Instead, he had to be a gentleman and make me dinner. I suppose I can’t fault him for not wanting to kiss a snotty, crying mess, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed.
I shake my thoughts from my head and brush my teeth, wash my face, and throw on some leggings with an oversized pink crewneck sweatshirt and black beanie. I turn off the light and open the door, trying to be as quiet as I can be, so he doesn’t realize I’m up.
