Page 55 of The Keeper and I

She laughed. “Have you really such little self-control?”

“Fine.” He scowled at her. “I’ll sleep in the damn bed. Happy?”

“I am if you are.”

He rolled his eyes and ignored her sarcasm. “Do we need to change for dinner?”

“No, it’s pretty casual. I mean, you saw my dad’s slippers.”

Jordan chuckled. “Yeah, I did.”

“God, they’re humiliating.” She sighed, fluffing her plaits in the mirror. “I mean, I love them to bits, but they’re suchparents, y’know?”

“I suppose…” It wasn’t a feeling he could relate to, so he took a good look around the room to find a change of subject.

The furniture was in the same classic style as the rest of the house only it was all a distressed white color. The bed was topped with a thick, pink floral quilt and matching pillows. The dresser, where she was checking her hair, had a couple knick knacks on it as well as a jewelry box. The artwork on the opposite wall gave him pause.

“The Meeting on the Turret Stairs,” he said under his breath.

“What?” Laci asked.

“The painting.” He pointed. “It’s ‘The Meeting on the Turret Stairs’ by Frederic William Burton. It’s one of my favorites.”

He stepped closer to get a good look at it—a guard and his lady, taking a moment for a secret embrace. It was a print. Jordan had never had the time to get Ireland to see the real thing. But the image still stirred something inside him. The desperation in the way the guard held the lady’s hand always hit him right in the heart.

“I didn’t know you were into art,” Laci said.

“It’s just an interest, not something I do,” Jordan said with a shrug. “But I’ve always loved this piece. You can feel the hope between the couple, and the despair that they can never be together.”

“The original story was about a lady and her personal guard, right?” she asked.

“Aye. It’s all the more impressive that Burton captured it without showing their eyes. I’ve always admired that.”

“I’ve never given it much thought.” She looked on. “It is quite nice, isn’t it?”

“And sad,” he replied quietly.

“Is it some consolation for being tricked into sharing a room with me? You also get to share a room with your favorite work,” she teased.

He met her gaze and smirked. “I suppose so.”

“Ready to head down?”

He nodded and hooked his arm around her shoulders as she led the way back downstairs to the dining room.

The dining room was as exquisite as the rest of the house. The table looked like something out of a magazine with the deep red tablecloth, emerald green runner, and porcelain reindeer centerpieces. Over it hung a crystal chandelier, which provided dim, intimate lighting. Gene, Pam, Jax, and Tate were already seated. Jordan pulled Laci’s chair out for her before taking his place beside her.

“Tuck in, everyone!” Gene said.

They served dinner on fine china that was more suited to caviar than a simple shepherd’s pie. It was delicious, nonetheless. Yet, Jordan struggled to find comfort even with the ease at which the Miller family exchanged playful barbs between updates on their lives. Her parents asked Laci about the report of an intruder in her house, and she told them a bit about Dane. They offered to hire her private security if the police weren’t sufficient.

“I feel safe with Jordan there,” Laci said, placing her hand on his. “Dane’s only ever been bold enough to try something when I’ve been alone.”

“But Jordan can’t be with you all the time,” Pam said. “Footballers have such packed schedules.”

“What happens if he gets hurt again?” Gene wondered. He met Jordan’s gaze. “I saw that injury during the Wolves match. You were out for two weeks, right?”

Jordan nodded. That was the longest two weeks of his life. He couldn’t train beyond light weights and a walk. Plus, Laci had pulled away for several days, still stung by the whole Caroline fiasco. “We managed.”

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