Page 37 of Vail

VAIL

“You want to give me this space?” I asked as I looked around the empty room. Jordan said it once was an apartment, but they had it gutted a while back, not sure what they wanted to do with it. The non-load-bearing walls were torn down, making one big room.

“You like to keep busy and cook. This will give you ample room to do so. The kitchen in our home is small compared to what you could do in here.”

“Are you offering me a job?” I wasn’t certain if he was trying to keep me here more or if he wanted me out of his place so he could conduct business up there.

Jordan put his hands on my biceps. It was only the two of us. Hartley was down the street at his studio. “Vail, I want you to do whatever you like. You love to cook meals and bake desserts. But you don’t have to do that down here. Keep using our kitchen. Take a sledgehammer to this and make it whatever you want. I don’t care. I just want you to be happy.”

I looked around the space again, not moving away from him as I did so. “You’re not trying to get rid of me?”

Releasing my arm, Jordan used his fingers to pull my chin toward him. My eyes held his. There were moments when I stared into his hazel depths where I wondered how I got here, and why I was so damn lucky to be with him and Hartley. “I’m not sure where you got that idea from. I don’t like you going to your house. I don’t like you going to the club. But you do, so I say nothing.”

My lips twitched. “Until now.”

“Vail,” he growled. It was the same growl he used when he got irritated with his guards or anyone, for that matter. It didn’t scare me. Not in the least. I was used to growly Jordan. “This space is for you to do with as you wish. Cook for no one but yourself. Remodel into a playroom for Tahoe. I don’t care.”

“I can cook here?”

“For whoever you want, as long as I don’t have to let strangers into my building.”

“Your guards? I can make them meals so they’re not always eating takeout?” There was nothing wrong with getting food out, but the people who worked for Jordan didn’t have the kinds of jobs where they could sit down to family dinners often. I could offer them a semblance of that. The thought had gone through my mind more than once; however, I didn’t think Jordan would go for it.

“If it would make you happy.”

“I’d still work at the club if Dana can’t.”

He nodded.

“What about my cooking lessons?”

“Not here unless I’ve already vetted them.”

“That’s fair.” Jordan had voiced before how he didn’t like me doing them and preferred me to stay close. More and more, I wanted to do just that. With Gil still who the fuck knew where, he could pop up when I least expected him. Here, I was safe. Here, no one could get me. I also couldn’t hole up and never leave.

“There’s no budget. Spend what you like.” Of course not. Jordan didn’t know the meaning of a budget when it came to Hartley and me.

“I can buy my own appliances and supplies.”

“You’ll be cooking for my men. Let me pay.” He had a point there.

“Fine. I can start measuring and think of a layout.”

“I know a general contractor, if you’d like help.”

I nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. If I need more lines run or more outlets installed, stuff like that, a professional will be necessary.”

“I’ll give you his number.” Jordan released my chin and smoothed the backs of his fingers down my throat, his eyes following the trail they blazed. He didn’t have to do much to set my body on fire. Then he had to ruin it by saying, “Gil sent you a letter.” It was like I was dropped in a frigid pool. My body locked up, everything frozen but my mouth.

“When?”

“Early this morning.”

“Were you being nice to me so I wouldn’t get pissed about the letter?”

“Not at all. I had the idea for the kitchen before that fucker sent a courier here. A courier who had no idea who his client was.” I saw the truth of his statement on his face.

“What did it say?”

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