Page 16 of Dreaming About Forever

Jordan slid back through his memories. “Two years ago. For Christmas.”

“Looks like you’ll get to spend Christmas at home this year.”

Jordan didn’t correct her, but he had a strong feeling she wasn’t going to like his “simple” family ranch. He’d probably be accompanying her to Bali or New York City before the month was over.

Alicia commented on the scenery from time to time, and her innocent excitement drew him in. He’d grown up in western Colorado, and his home seemed ordinary compared to the extravagant places Alicia Carver saw on a regular basis.

“Are you excited to see your family?” she asked.

That was a loaded question. Yes, he loved his family. He missed them. He’d just thought his visits home would happen on his time off between deployments–not like this.

“I am. They’ll like you.”

He wasn’t about to claim Alicia would like them too. He didn’t know much about her, and his family was as close as they came. Some people liked to keep distance, and privacy was a myth in the Taylor household.

Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to his mom, brother, and sister.

Jordan: Please don’t smother her.

Caroline sent back a heart emoji, Clint sent a thumbs-up, and his mother didn’t respond.

His mom was sneaky. She’d get the text, read it, then pretend she never got the warning.

“Are we getting close?” Alicia asked.

“We should be there in about three minutes.”

Jordan stretched his neck and pulled at the collar of his shirt. Everything would be fine. His family would be welcoming. Alicia would think his home was “quaint” or “cute,” and she’d be wide-eyed with wonder at the way poor people lived.

The Taylors weren’t poor, but they probably looked like they were to someone like Alicia Carver. Lower middle class was a pretty accurate label, and there was a gap between Alicia and himself the size of the Grand Canyon.

“Is this it?” Alicia said as she sat up straighter and peered out the window.

The old wooden sign with a silhouette of a cow on it that read Taylor Ranch hung at the end of the driveway. He’d helped his dad put it up about fifteen years ago.

“This is it.”

Alicia turned her wide smile on him, and something in his chest squeezed tight, pulling the breath from his throat.

If her sadness pushed a dagger into his gut yesterday, her happiness left him speechless today.

Yeah, this was bad. Really bad.

The car slowed to a stop, and Alicia flung the door open, hopping out before he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Good grief,” Jordan huffed under his breath as he jumped out. She was supposed to let him check the area first.

His mom flung the front door open and jogged off the porch toward the car. “Hey, you! You must be Miss Carver!” she shouted as she approached with her arms open wide.

Not only had Mom disregarded his warning text, she filed it away as a complete joke. The woman had zero chill.

“I am!” Alicia said cheerily. “You must be Mrs. Taylor.”

“Why, yes I am,” his mom said as she went in for a full-frontal assault.

“Welcome to the ranch,” Jordan said under his breath. His family was going to chase her away before suppertime.

7

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