Page 27 of The Jilted Lovers Club
I force my focus back to my wine.
“What about Grace?” she asks. “Besides you and the Felixes, she’s the only other person who didn’t bat an eye when she found out who I was. Is she one of those silent backstabbing types? Should I arm myself?”
I chuckle. “Grace is honestly the nicest person in this town. You could slash her tires, and she’d offer to help you with whatever’s ruining your day.”
Jordy tilts her head. “Is she seeing anyone? You seem to have a high opinion of her. Have you asked her out?”
I nearly choke on my wine. “She’s like twelve,” I manage.
Jordy smirked. “She’s in her twenties, right?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not interested.”
Her expression is unreadable, but something about the way she asked doesn’t sit right with me.
“Okay,” she says slowly. She sips her wine, her eyes staying on mine. “But have you thought about moving on?”
A thrill goes through me at the words, some fluttery foreign feeling I brush aside before it can take root.
“Sure, I’ve thought about it. But between Lottie and the farm, there’s not much left for anything else.”
“I don’t buy that.” She tilts her head slightly. “I mean, you’re here with me now. You’ve been more supportive than youneeded to be. Some girl would beverylucky to get this kind of attention.”
She runs her finger along the stem of her wine glass, absentmindedly tracing the edge. My gaze follows the movement, and for a split second, I imagine that same finger trailing over my bare chest. Heat curls in my stomach before I shove the thought away.
“You clearly have the time to go out,” she adds. “I mean, you were out last night while Bec watched Lottie.”
“I’m not saying Ican’t,” I say. “I’m saying I just haven’twantedto. Last night was a rare thing.”
“And was it really so bad?” She gives me a pointed look, raising an eyebrow.
I smirk. “You tell me. First night out in months, and I got a girl drunk, got her kicked out of a hotel—again—and ended up taking her home to meet the folks.”
Jordy laughs. “You move fast.”
She says it so casually, without a hint of flirtation, but the words stick. Ididmove fast … with Sasha, and now with Jordy—this beautiful, sharp, complicated woman who is living under my roof for at least the next month.
I need to keep my head straight.
“Well, roomie,” I say, pushing back from the stool, “the only place I’m moving fast is to bed—so we can do this all again tomorrow.”
I drain the rest of my wine and move to the sink. When I turn around, she’s suddenly there. Before I can react, her arms wrap around me, and my breath stalls.
She presses her head against my chest, her hands resting lightly on my back. For a split second, I freeze, my arms hovering in the air. Then instinct takes over, and I pull her in, my hands settling on her waist.
She fits against me too damn well, every soft curve molding into me like she belongs there. Andfuck, she smells good—like lilacs and something warm, something unmistakablyher. I let myself inhale—just once—before forcing myself to focus.
“What’s this?” I murmur, my voice lower than I intend.
Jordy doesn’t lift her head. “Just … thanks,” she says, her words muffled against my shirt.
After a long moment, she pulls back, her hands slipping away from me. Her cheeks are tinged pink, like she’s just realized what she did, or maybe she regrets it.
All I know is that I already miss her warmth.
“I had no idea what I was walking into when I came here,” she admits. “This could’ve gonesobadly. But you didn’t just make it possible for me to do my job, you made sure I was comfortable. I don’t know anyone who would go this far for a total stranger.”
I let out a slow breath. “I think we’re past strangers.”
