Page 12 of Jordan

“My apologies,” I said and turned back to the lamb. How stupid was I to look at him like that? It wasn’t even out of curiosity. I was sucked in the moment he appeared. Stupid, so damn stupid.

“No need to apologize,” he said and walked around the other side of the island, so he stood across from me. “The scent of the meat you’ve prepared drew me out of my office to see what I could expect tonight. I’d heard Dana was a skilled chef. You could give him a run for his money.”

“He’s taught me a lot. Thank you for having me in your home. I don’t normally do this, rather sticking to the club and my house.”

“Your house?”

My gaze drew up, latching on to his eyes. “I offer private lessons. I don’t cook at Untouchable full time, only when I need to fill in for Dana. Cooking is enjoyable for me.”

“What do you do outside of this?”

“Relax, I guess. I’m doing home renovations a little at a time. It was only partly remodeled when I bought it. I liked the idea of a challenge.”

“You wear many hats.”

I chuckled. “Not really. More like trial by fire. I wanted to stay busy and figuring out how to remodel the house gave me that. It’s also why I’m doing one room at a time. I have no idea how long each space will take me. This way, large areas aren’t out of commission at the same time.” I shook my head, needing to stop rambling at a man who probably was only making conversation to be nice.

“It sounds like you’re having a good time doing it.”

“I am.” I turned to the oven and pulled out one of the side dishes I’d made. I had to keep moving so everything would be ready when the guests arrived. I knew all of them, but I wasn’t here as their friend or employee tonight. This was for Jordan. A meal he was having with his son. I’d heard enough rumblings at the club to know Jordan and JJ weren’t on the best of terms. They didn’t hate each other, at least not that I knew.

The sound of a dog barking drew my head up, and I looked around.

“Apologies,” Jordan said. “I’m watching Latte for Romeo and she’s still a vocal puppy who gets into trouble. She’s in a bedroom to stay quiet and keep out from underfoot. Apparently, she doesn’t like being in there alone when she hears sounds out here and smells the dinner you’ve prepared.” I knew who Latte belonged to since I was friends with Romeo and heard talk of the puppy. What I didn’t understand was his connection to Jordan. It also wasn’t my business.

“You can let her out. I have a dog of my own, so I completely understand.”

“Her hair will get in the food.”

“Part of owning a dog is understanding you’ll eat their hair now and then. Not by choice, obviously. It floats in the air and always lands in the food. Not that I cook with dog hair,” I rushed to say. “I always get it out when I see it.” Shit, this was going downhill fast. I had to open my mouth and start talking about fur getting into food. Jesus.

Bark!

Jordan sighed. “Could you cover the food, so her hair won’t land in it?”

“Of course. Or I could go see her and maybe then she’ll calm down a bit. There’s someone new here, and she probably wants to inspect me.”

He hummed. “That could work.”

I did a quick check of the food still cooking to make sure it would simmer and not burn while I stepped away, then I took off my jacket, leaving me in a fitted white T-shirt and black pants.

When I lifted my head, Jordan’s eyes were on my arms. I had full sleeves of tattoos down both of them. They were easy to hide with the jacket. I also made sure to remove the piercings I had in my ears and septum, wanting to look professional. With the jacket off, I guessed that illusion was shattered.

“They’re beautiful,” he said, his eyes still tracing over my ink.

“I like to have art in my life. So much out there is mundane. I think tattoos give us individuality. They show a bit of who we are with no need for words.” My lips pressed closed. Why couldn’t I shut up around him?

“Don’t be quiet on my account. I understand the need for art and color in life. I just prefer it this way.” He swept his hand out. “My home reflects me.”

I had to bite my tongue, so I didn’t tell him what I thought when I walked in here.

“I know how I come across, Mr. Ayers. While I’d like to say it’s not accurate, it is.” He turned and started walking out of the room. “Follow me so we can calm Latte down. I might need to have Reghan sit with her during dinner, so she doesn’t bark the entire time.”

Quickly, I followed him, taking in as much of his home as I could. The living room was beautiful, even if it was dark tones as well.

We climbed the open marble stairs with glass beneath the black railings on either side, walking past open bedroom doors, each with everything in place, making me wonder if they were ever used. A smile curved my lips when we got to a closed door with the whimpering puppy behind it.

6

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