Page 41 of Smooth Moves
She kept frowning but deflated a bit. She left to put the ice cream away then returned with a question. “Why did he take off?”
“I don’t know. Maybe so you wouldn’t see him crying?”
“You made himcry?” She stormed over to him and poked him in the chest. “Whatexactlydid you say?”
Woman had a bony finger. He rubbed his chest and tried to back away but found himself blocked by the wall. “Hey, now. Easy, killer.” She didn’t seem amused. “Look, I tried to tell him to just deal with the next few years, then live his own life. I told him how lucky he was to have you batting for him.” He didn’t think he should mention the part about Rafael hitting him or about the kid speculating on who Jordan might be fucking. And that whole conversation about shitty parents probably wouldn’t go over well either. “You didn’t see any bruises on him when he left, did you?”
She continued to glare at him. “I better not ever see one on him from you. Ever.”
“Got it.” Was it wrong that he loved how protective she was about her brother? God, could the woman do something to annoy him out of this stupid crush he had on her? “So, um, dinner?”
She took a step back and frowned. Before she said anything, her phone jingled. She reached into her back pocket, read the screen, and sighed. “Rafi’s hanging with Daniel, who’s not a bad kid. A nerdy gamer, but he’s decent enough, with a nice mom. Rafi said he’s fine and that you—Conan—didn’t do anything to make him leave.”
“Okay then.” Out of that doghouse at least. Good to know the kid really wasn’t a narc. “So you were going to tell me about dinner?”
“You and food.” Jordan shook her head. “Has anyone ever come between you two?” she joked. “Because I can see you marrying a lasagna, but nothing else long term.”
Mariah came to mind, and he shut the thought down fast, though he felt grateful for the intrusion. Yeah, he’d once put himself out there. And look at how that had turned out. This fascination for Jordan meant nothing. Just a hot chick with a core of honor whom he happened to work with. It was natural he’d be attracted to qualities he’d once hoped he might possess.
“Nope.” He forced a grin. “Nothing beats a decent mac ’n’ cheese.”
She shook her head. “It was a casserole, not a simple mac ’n’ cheese.”
“I don’t care what you call it. What’s for dinner tonight?”
She sighed. “Come on. You can help me peel the sweet potatoes and chop up the onions.”
“Wait. Those are vegetables.”
“So smart. You sure you were a Marine?”
He glared at her, saw her smile, and felt his palms sweat. “I can’t believe I have to work for my meal. And let me tell you something, Jordan. You keep rolling your eyes like that, and one day they won’t roll back normal.”
She laughed. “Whatever. Now grab a peeler and stop giving me shit.” She pointed that steel finger at him.
“Fine, fine. No need for violence. Just tell me what to do.”
Over an hour later, he felt more than satisfied. The baked chicken, noodles, and veggie mash had gone down smoothly. He’d forced himself to only take two helpings, still hungry, but sadly not for food. He wished he didn’t remember how she tasted or how right she’d felt when he’d lifted her onto the kitchen counter and settled between her legs.
He hustled her out of the kitchen when she tried to do the dishes. “Go sit and look pretty. Knit. Whatever you women do when you’re not working.”
“Knit?”
He filled a large pan with soapy water and, unable to help himself, tossed over his shoulder, “Or, you know, provide some inspiration and ‘empower’ me.”
“You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?”
Sadly, his comment and, damn, her very presence had already brought him “up.” He braced himself against the sink, trying to get rid of the hard-on that wouldn’t quit. And what the hell had he been thinking to bring a condom with him? It was like he wanted to die, smothered in the flames of his dirty mind and her hot body.
“Promises, promises,” she taunted.
“Oh please.”Damn it, woman, I’m doing my best to keep it together.“As if you could handle me.”
“I think I handled you pretty well the other night.”
He glanced at her, seeing her so smug and sexy. So annoyingly unfazed by their shared connection. “You just had to go there.”
She grinned. “You did it first. Deal. Now get busy and do my dishes, sugar chop. I’m going to sit here and watch a pretty man working in my kitchen, you know, while I’m thinking of knitting patterns.” She snickered.
