Page 26 of The Jilted Lovers Club
Back at home, I ease Lottie’s door shut once she’s settled, then turn to see Jordy at the kitchen counter poring over her sketches. She traces the rim of her wine glass absentmindedly, her brows furrowed in concentration.
I lean against the doorjamb, watching unnoticed. Even in sweats and her dark hair piled into a messy bun, she’s stunning. The last twenty-four hours have been chaos, yet it feels right that she’s here.
Besides Bec, no woman has been in this house in a long time. Dating has been the last thing on my mind.
Until now.
I shake the thought away before it can take root. Jordy is here because she has nowhere else to go, not because I have some ulterior motive, and as far as I can tell, she’s not interested. She seems grateful for a place to stay—nothing more.
I cross the room, pulling out a stool. She looks up as I sit. Between us is the bottle of wine and her now empty glass, which I fill before pouring my own.
“That’s not a double, is it?” she jokes.
I groan as she laughs.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that.”
She shakes her head. “You weren’t the one pouring, and I shouldn’t have brought it up in front of Bec and Bob. It was petty and I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. It was an asshole move—whether I did it or just let it happen.”
Silence stretches between us, thick but not uncomfortable. Then Jordy scrunches her nose. “From what I remember, it was the best Manhattan I’ve ever had. A little strong, but the best. What can I say? I’m a whiskey girl.”
“Told you.” I smirk. “We’ll have to go back sometime so you can—”
“Oh, hell no,” she cuts in. “Now that I know Griff is related to the Wicked Witch of the West, that’s a hard pass. No way am I risking getting poisoned by Bernie or her son.”
“That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”
She shoots me a glare. “The town sheriff is married to one of the protesters, and Bernie’s tight with him. How hard do you think it’d be for them to hide my body?”
I snort into my glass. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” She arches a brow.
“You’ve made a couple friends here,” I point out. “If you can do that, despite the hostility this town has thrown your way, I’mfully confident you’ll have the rest of this place eating out of your hand.”
“I don’t know aboutfriends,” she says. “Michael was only interested because he could spend my boss’s money.”
“As much fun as that must have been, Michael would not have spent the day with you for just that.”
I take a sip of wine, then lean forward. “Here’s what you don’t know about him … two years ago, he battled an aggressive form of cancer that cost him all his hair and a shit ton of weight.”
Jordy’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, seriously? I never would’ve guessed.”
“He’s fine now,” I assure her, “but he wasn’t back then. He had to close Leaf for a few months because he was too weak to manage it, and he had no other staff. His boyfriend, Dominic, moved in with him and took care of everything. But it wasn’t long before it became too much. One night, Dominic just took off—right when Michael had finally let himself trust someone to take care of him.”
Jordy’s expression darkens. “What the fuck.That’s awful.” She shakes her head, gripping her glass tighter. “Did the town step in? Please tell me someone helped him recover.”
“Not at first. Michael’s good at knowing everyone else’s business, but when it comes to himself, he keeps things locked down. We all assumed Dominic was taking care of him, it wasn’t until Bernie dropped off a casserole that she found out what happened. She organized a meal train, housecleaning, rides to appointments—the whole nine yards.” I sigh. “He’s grateful, but he trusts no one now. Doesn’t spend time with anyone. Just his plants. So yeah, maybe he tagged along for your boss’s money. But the fact that he stuck around? That says something else.”
Jordy takes a long sip of wine, her expression troubled. “I don’t know what’s worse … the fact that Michael’s ex abandonedhim, or the fact that you just ruined my view of that bitch, Bernie.”
I laugh. “She’s protective, it’s her nature. I’m confident she’ll warm up to you before you have to leave. You two might even end up being friends.”
Jordy snorts. “Sure. Besties. We’ll braid each other’s hair—if I knew how to braid.”
I don’t mean to, but my gaze drops to her hair, imagining the strands sliding through my fingers. How it would feel. How it would look pulled back in a braid.
