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Authors: Robyn Carr,Jean Brashear,Victoria Dahl

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BOOK: Midnight Kiss
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CHAPTER FIVE

W
ILL FOUND HIMSELF WHISTLING
as he traveled the nearly deserted downtown streets at eight o’clock on Saturday morning. He’d seen her puzzlement last night, felt her body respond to his. She wanted to fight what she felt, but she was attracted, he was certain.

Not that she would like it one bit, of course. Ms. Jordan Parrish was far too accustomed to ordering men about, to calling the shots. One glimpse of those stunning legs, and a man could go blind. She used her sexuality as a weapon, as a barrier to protect a heart that he was more certain than ever needed care.

Not that she was the One, of course. No, his ideal woman was still out there somewhere and he would keep looking.

But in the meantime, he could help her, this hard-edged woman who had likely never cared for a house-plant, much less gardened. She probably lived on take-out. As for baking bread…the mere image of Jordan Parrish with flour dusting her apron and her hand buried in dough…

That made him laugh out loud.

He was quite clearly insane, of course, for getting involved. Between his inability to resist a challenge and his weakness for strays, he was, as him mum would say, a complete pudding.

But Jordan Parrish most definitely needed someone to be kind to her, to teach her that her cynicism was misplaced. That there were men with whom she could be real, men she could trust.

He wouldn’t let himself get too deep, however. To get caught up in a woman like Jordan would be insanity, pure and simple. He might be a wee bit soft in the head, but he wasn’t an idiot.

Yes, he felt more alive around her, on the edge of his seat to see what she would do next. Jordan was few things he wanted and many he did not.

But she was definitely never boring.

He chuckled again as he parked his truck in the deserted entertainment district, unloaded not only his tools but a sack of groceries. He’d been up for hours, but he’d bet his granny’s soul Jordan was still sleeping, so he’d come prepared not only to fix her faucet but feed her, as well.

He pressed her buzzer once, then again with no answer. He set down his toolbox, already peering around him for pebbles to toss at her window.

“Oh, hell, it’s you,” came the irritated voice from the speaker. “Do you know what time it is?”

Will grinned. “Let me up, darlin’. I come bearing breakfast.”

“I don’t eat breakfast,” Jordan muttered.

But she hit the button.

 

J
ORDAN UNLOCKED THE DOOR
, then sank back into the nearest chair and curled up, already half-asleep.

Will strode through it seconds later, whistling.

Jordan muttered and refused to open her eyes. “Go away.”

“Now, darlin’…” She could feel, actually
feel
the blasted man grinning at her. She picked up the pillow beside her and covered her face with it. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up at, what, dawn?”

“It’s hardly dawn. I’ve been up for hours.”

She threw the pillow in the direction of his voice.

Something heavy rattled, then thumped on the floor. Footsteps sounded, along with something being set on her counter. She curled in more tightly on herself and wished just then that she’d thought to grab a blanket. It was freaking cold, and she only wore a camisole and boxers.

More footsteps, then a blanket settled over her. He even tucked it in around her legs, then pressed a kiss to her hair. “Sweet dreams,” he murmured.

Then the blasted man started humming.

Jordan dragged the blanket over her head and tried to shut him out, but how on earth did you ignore a very large man clomping around your apartment, especially if the tune he was singing was quite lovely?

Then the coffee grinder kicked in.

“I hate you,” she shouted.

“Hmm? What was that?”

I’m going to kill him. Dead. Worse than dead.
As Jordan plotted the ways she could make Will die a slow, painful death, he blithely continued humming and clomping, pausing to chuckle now and again.

Then she smelled the coffee.

And whimpered.

Another chuckle.

Jordan was torn between plotting…and pleading.

Coffee won. “Please…” She stuck one arm out from beneath the blanket.

“In a bit. Anything good is worth the waiting. You mustn’t rush things.”

“Gimme.”

She heard him approach. Then…nothing.

Her eyelids fluttered. The suspense was killing her. “Well?”

The blanket was peeled back. Will sank to his haunches, blue eyes alight with humor and a trace of pity. “Not a morning person, are you?”

“Coffee. I’m begging.”

His smile widened. “And what would be the magic word?”

“I said please already.”

“So you did.” He swooped in for a quick kiss on her nose. Then he proffered a mug that smelled absolutely heavenly, holding it just out of reach. “Would this be what you’re whimpering about?”

“I don’t whimper.” Much.

“Oh, darlin’, I beg to differ. Now, what, a man has to wonder, would a creature in such dire straits be willing to give in exchange?”

“It’s too early for sex.”

A quick flash of very white teeth. “Oh, my…you certainly are out of sorts, aren’t you? It’s never too early for sex—but that wasn’t what I meant.”

“You’re going to make me beg.”

“Not exactly beg.”

“I did say I hate you, right?”

“That you did. But I know it’s simply that you’re cross, in the way of a child.” And all the while, the delectable scent of that coffee was wafting into her nostrils. “You don’t really mean it.”

“I might.”

“No, you don’t. And lucky for you, my price is quite simple and easily met. A simple ‘Good Morning, Will,’ that’s it.”

“Good morning, Will,” she droned.

“Did I mention that a little enthusiasm would help?”

“God, you’re annoyingly chipper in the mornings, aren’t you?”

He grinned unrepentantly. “That I am.”

“Good thing we’re never having sex. I’d have to boot you out during the night or kill you at dawn.”

“That, my dear, is another discussion altogether. I’ve made my conditions clear.” His smile was cocky and completely unruffled as he cupped one hand behind his ear. “Now, I don’t believe I heard you properly the first time.”

“Good morning, Will,” she said through gritted teeth.

Then she threw off the blanket and uncurled herself. “Good morning, Will.” Her voice rose as she did, and he stood, too. She walked right up to where her feet touched his boots. “Good morning, Will,” she shouted, her teeth bared in a grimace.

He smiled. “Could still use some work to convince me, darlin’, but I’m a merciful man.”

She snatched the mug and growled, then walked around him toward her bathroom.

Once inside, she slammed the door, took a healthy swallow and leaned back against the wood as her taste buds danced over the best cup of coffee she’d had in…ever.

Jordan slowly slid down the door, settled on the floor and indulged herself.

“You all right in there?” Will asked from the other side.

“Go away. I’m having a religious experience,” she answered. She sipped again and closed her eyes in ecstasy.

On the other side of the wood, Will grinned.

And tried not to think about how enticing she looked in those skimpy pajamas.

“Take your time, darlin’.”

Jordan smiled into her cup. “I intend to.”

CHAPTER SIX

I
N THE GYM A FEW DAYS LATER
,
Jordan finished her free-weight sets and headed toward the treadmill, wiping sweat from her forehead. In the mirrored wall, she caught a glimpse of a young guy new to the gym, a long-haired god oozing rude good health and a young man’s raging hormones.

He was checking out her behind, and he didn’t look away when their gazes met.

For just one moment, she paused, letting her gaze linger, allowing sheer lust to sweep through her as if at thirty-six she weren’t a good ten years older than him. Then she smiled, the smile only an older woman has the confidence to hazard. His eyebrows rose, his grin spreading.

Jordan laughed and felt better than she had in days. She climbed on the treadmill and set it for half an hour, random inclines, and pushed the speed up a notch from usual.

Got to keep that butt firm and noteworthy.

Fiona arrived for her daily writing break. “What’s got you so cheery today?”

“Check out the long hair over by the bench press.”

“Oh, my,” Fiona drawled. “Pitty pat, pitty pat.”

Jordan laughed. “He likes my behind. I might keep him.”

“Well, it’s not like he’d be the first younger man for you.”

“Again with the digs.”

“You can’t argue with the truth.”

“I’ve apparently lost my ability to argue, period.”

“What’s that mean?” Fiona asked.

“What’s what mean?” Marly said as she approached.

“Hey, stranger,” Jordan greeted. “You haven’t been in lately.”

“I need a life,” Marly replied, frowning.

“Are you okay?” Fiona asked.

“I’m fine.” Marly’s smile wasn’t one hundred percent convincing, but her expression clearly said
bug off.
“What’s up with you?” she asked Jordan.

“I have a bone to pick with you, lady.”

“With me?” Marly’s eyebrows rose.

“Yes, you. That man has been to my house three times this week. He’s fixed my faucet, my windows, and changed the lock on my door. He’s driving me insane.”

“What man?” Fiona asked.

“Will,” Marly offered, grinning. “Has to be.”

“Will?”

“Will Masterson, remember, Fiona? The big Irishman who works with David. Don’t listen to a word Jordan says. He’s fabulous. Remember the beautiful doors we saw at the gallery we visited the last time we went out art-gazing? Will made those.”

Fiona nodded. “Those doors were works of art, not mere wood. So why is this artisan playing handyman at Jordan’s loft?”

Jordan made a rude noise.

Marly simply smiled. “They met at Thanksgiving at my house, and Will’s smitten. So’s she.”

“What?” Jordan all but shouted.

“Smitten? Our Jordan?”

“Marly’s lost her freaking mind.” Jordan glared at Marly. “I am not smitten. The man’s insufferable.”

“But how is he in bed?” Fiona asked. “You could certainly do worse than a strapping Irishman.”

Jordan fell quiet.

Fiona stopped her treadmill and stared. “Oh, my. Can it be? Is there one man in Austin Jordan hasn’t bagged?”

“There are lots of them,” Jordan replied. “You make it sound like all I do is have sex.”

Her friends didn’t respond but only waited.

“Oh, all right,” she snapped. “I don’t know how he is in bed—are you satisfied now? The man kisses like a wet dream and he hasn’t made a move on me since the first day. Worse than that, he’s told me he won’t take things any further until I agree to reserve myself for only him.” She snorted. “As if. I can’t stand the sight of him.”

“Now, now,” Marly soothed. “You know that’s not true. Even at that first meeting, there were sparks flying between you. But I don’t want him upsetting you.”

“Upsetting me?” Jordan snorted. “He’s driving me crazy, is what. He’s relentless and so blasted cheerful. And he’s sexy,” she growled. “I could just murder him.”

Her friends exchanged glances.

“Jordan, do you want me to have David talk to him?” Marly asked.

“No, I do not.” Jordan regained control of herself.
“The man I can’t handle hasn’t been born. Will’s just—different. Not good different, annoying different. I don’t know why I’ve become his home improvement project, but he’s got to run out of projects soon and then I’ll ditch him.”

Marly stiffened. “Don’t you hurt him, Jordan. He’s a wonderful man.”

“How could I hurt someone who has the hide of a buffalo and the sensitivity of a rock?”

“Your eyes are sparkling, girlfriend.” Fiona’s own eyes were eagle-sharp on her. “This may be the first time I’ve ever seen you like this. For once, you’re not bored, are you?” Then she glanced over at Marly. Marly grinned back, lifting one eyebrow.

“Just stop it, you two. This isn’t funny.”

Marly’s peal of laughter was a welcome sound. It had been a long time since they’d heard her make it.

“It is, though. I’ve never seen a man fluster you before.”

Jordan tossed her head. “I’m not flustered. I’m pissed.”

Fiona didn’t try to hold back her own laughter.

Jordan narrowed her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Fiona choked. “Swallowed wrong.” She quickly averted her face, turning the laugh into a cough.

Marly carefully blanked her own face, but amusement lingered.

Fiona recovered but couldn’t leave well enough alone. “You know they say that the things you fight hardest are the things you want the most.”

“Fiona, you—”

“All right, you two.” Marly assumed her peacemaker role. “Settle down, or I’ll send you to your rooms.”

“Yes, Mom.” Jordan made a face at Fiona, then stuck her iPod earbuds in her ears and increased the incline on the treadmill, pointedly ignoring them.

Will was annoying. Bossy. Overbearing.

Unfortunately, also hot.

And determined to hold out until she made the promise she would never, ever make. Narrowing your options to one man was the first step on the road to delusion.

Some people weren’t made for monogamy.

Jordan was one of them.

 

W
ILL MISSED A CUT
on the trim board. “Blast it.”

“What’s up?” David appeared beside him.

“I wasted this piece, and we’re short enough on what we stripped and restored.” He knew his tone was irritable but couldn’t seem to help it. “Never mind. I’ll figure out something.”

David didn’t move on, however. “You okay?”

“Dandy.” Will eyed another piece he might be able to toenail together with this one…. He shook his head brusquely. It wasn’t like him to make such a mistake.

“You sure?”

“I said I’m—” Will exhaled in a gust. “It’s nothing, really. At least, nothing you can fix.”

David observed him, then began to smile. “Ten bucks the problem’s initials are J.P.”

Will raked one hand through his hair. “Go ahead. Say you warned me.”

“No need to rub it in. What’s she doing?”

“You haven’t enough time, I promise. And it’s my
own bloody fault.” But he settled back against the wall. “I’m a patient man,” he began.

David chuckled. “Well, God knows Jordan will try a saint.”

Will’s humor began to return. “This fish is going to take a very long line and a steady hand.”

“You actually want to keep her? Jordan?”

“Of course not, but she’s fragile.”

“Jordan? The man-eater?”

“Don’t call her that.” Will’s ire rose. “You don’t understand her. There’s a damaged child inside that shrewish woman.”

“Shrew is a good description.”

“David,” Will said as cautiously as he could manage, “you haven’t looked beneath the surface. A tender heart resides there. God blind me for wanting to be kind to that heart, but I do.”

“Another one of your strays? I’ve seen your menagerie, watched how you slip food to the homeless guys and minister to my crew.” David captured his gaze. “She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

“She won’t.” Will shrugged. “And anyway, I said nothing of keeping her. But she can’t continue as she is. She’s not happy. If she would only—” He broke off. “Perhaps it’s a fool’s errand as you think, but I am as I am. I will not turn my back on suffering. This one is like a wild cat who spits and fights out of fear. Time and much wooing is required to gentle them. Jordan will need more than most.”

“And in the end? Where is this headed?” David inquired. “You know Jordan is violently opposed to the very idea of marriage.”

Will recoiled. “I’m not looking to marry the girl.
Good God, man, I want peace in my life, a woman with whom to live in contentment. You’d never have a day of it with Jordan. It’s only that…” Will stared off into the distance. “I cannot leave her this way. She needs to know there are men who can be trusted. That she can allow herself to be soft. She’ll never be happy otherwise.”

“Well.” David shook his head. “You sure don’t lack ambition.” He clapped Will on the shoulder. “I admire you. I think.” He grinned. “Or perhaps I should have you committed. Not sure which.”

“Nor am I. Might keep the straitjacket handy. A bit more time with Jordan, and I may be ripe for it.”

On the other hand,
he thought as he watched David leave,
perhaps it’s time for a new tactic.

A slow smile spread over his features as an idea struck him.

What was it the Yanks were fond of saying?
No guts, no glory?

 

O
N
S
ATURDAY MORNING
, Jordan woke early, anticipating Will’s arrival. Though she told herself he deserved her bedhead and no shower, she found herself dressed and ready, coffee dripping into the pot by eight o’clock.

An hour later, still no Will.

“He said he wanted to take a look at that squeaky closet door,” she muttered. She contemplated going back to bed, but she wasn’t sleepy.

She spent another hour picking up and straightening the loft, though her cleaning service would be in on Monday.

At ten-thirty, she broke. Punched in the cell number she’d told him she didn’t want.

His phone rang and rang. At last he picked up. “Will Masterson.” His voice was distracted.

“Where are you?”

“Hmm—what?” Then his voice changed. “Why, darlin’ Jordan, are you awake, then?”

She almost hung up on him. “You said you wanted to look at my closet door. How was I supposed to sleep, knowing you’d be barging in at the crack of dawn?”

“I was busy.”

Busy with what?
she wanted to ask but didn’t. Her heart squeezed a little, and anger stirred when she realized she’d already become accustomed to him being around nearly every day.

“I might be able to drop by later,” he offered.

“No need. The door doesn’t bother me.”
So there.
“Anyway, I have a full day.” Though, she realized, not one item on her list had much appeal.

Which terrified her. “So, just…have a good day.” She started to hang up.

“I was thinking,” he said in a casual tone, “that perhaps you might like to see my place.”

“Your place?” she echoed.

“Yes. I’m finishing a project. Since you have such a way with tools, perhaps you’d like to lend a hand.”

She could hear the smile in his voice and, curse him, that charmed her. “It’s not nice to mock other people.”

At last, that warm chuckle she’d come to depend on. “Oh, I wasn’t mocking, darlin’ Jordan. You do have a certain…manner with a tool in your hand.”

Normally, Jordan would assume a man saying that
was talking dirty, but this was Will, and she could never quite be sure of anything where he was concerned. “So I could be like, your apprentice?”

“There is much I would be delighted to teach you. I’m certain I’ve made that clear, have I not?”

“You
are
talking dirty to me, in that roundabout Irish way of yours, aren’t you?”

“Me, darlin’ Jordan?” His voice was all innocence. “My sainted mother would faint to hear such a thing.” The smile in his tone grew more pronounced. “Perhaps you should come over and take my measure in person.”

“You make me crazy, you know that?” She couldn’t hold back her own laughter. This man—this impossibly aggravating and ornery and stubborn man—could make her, Jordan Parrish, giggle like the innocent girl she’d never been.

“Would that be a complaint, now?”

“What do you think?” She found herself grinning into the phone. “All right, all right, give me the address. Maybe I’ll drop by later,” she said, deliberately using his casual words.

“Come soon, Jordan.” His tone was husky.

She shivered a little in anticipation as she wrote down the address and ended the call.

For a few moments, she stared out the window at a crisp, cool day that somehow seemed a little brighter.

BOOK: Midnight Kiss
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