Page 30 of The Jilted Lovers Club
Parenting 101
Ashton
Jordy emerges from the bedroom just as the bacon finishes crisping in the pan. Her cheeks are flushed, and a huge smile lights up her face. Something inside me tightens just knowing she’d been talking to Alexander. The conversation had sounded tense, but now she’s smiling as if everything shifted.
What if this is more than just a working relationship?
And if it is, why the hell do I care? I have no reason to feel jealous.
So why the fuck am I?
“God, that smells good,” she says, stepping into the kitchen. “With all you’ve done for me, I should be cooking for you. Is there something I can do to help?”
I nod toward the toaster. “You can push those down, then butter them when they’re done. How do you like your eggs?”
“Any way is fine.” She presses the toaster lever, then turns to face me. “Just make them however you’re making them for yourself.”
I struggle to keep my eyes from lingering on the way her shirt hugs her chest, or the way her tan legs look impossibly long in those tiny shorts beneath her open robe.
“Okay, hard fried it is,” I say, giving her a wink. “Come on, everyone likes their eggs a certain way.”
“How doyoulike them?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes.
Touché.
“Why should I tell you when you won’t tell me yours?”
She laughs, her voice light. “This is like a ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ argument.”
Fuck. The thoughts that line brings up are dangerous. Is she trying to kill me?
“Fine, brat,” I growl, and she grins at the nickname. “I like them different ways, but with bacon, I like them cooked over medium so the yolks are just a little firm but mostly like jelly.”
Her eyes widen. “What a coincidence!” She offers a crooked smile. “That’s exactly how I like them.”
I roll my eyes, cracking the eggs into the pan, now greasy from the bacon. She finishes the toast, and I plate everything, including a small bowl of chopped up egg, toast, and bacon for Lottie. I notice again that Jordy takes the seat furthest from Lottie. It’s not a big deal. I mean, I always sit by my daughter,but it’s like Jordy is avoiding her. She watches her from a distance though, especially when she thinks I’m not looking. It’s like she’s fascinated and terrified at the same time.
“So, besides shopping, designing shops, and liking eggs exactly like mine, what else do you do?”
Jordy takes a bite of breakfast, humming with satisfaction. “This is really good,” she says, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t know. Lately there hasn’t been much time for anything else. When I’m not working, I’m usually researching style trends or posting about designs on social media to gain more clients or interest.” She tilts her head slightly. “I like reading, if you count opening a book before bed and falling asleep within two pages.”
“I can relate,” I laugh. “I’ve been trying to get throughThe Martianfor three months now. I think I like it, but it’s hard to say when I only get through a chapter a week.”
“So, you basically eat, breathe, and dream design and that’s it? Do you have a favorite color? A place to unwind? A favorite vacation spot?”
“Italy,” she says, then takes another bite. “I lived there for a month two years ago.”
“Wow. I’ve never ventured beyond the West Coast. What did you love most about it?”
“The escape.” She breathes a soft laugh, but there’s something sad in her eyes. I can’t ignore it.
“What were you escaping from?”
She hesitates, her fork halfway to her mouth. I know she’s uncomfortable, but I refuse to back down. “Come on, I’ve pretty much told you my whole story, and you’ve been sitting here like a closed book. You’ve got to give me something here.”
Jordy shoots me a withering look, then rolls her eyes. “A broken engagement,” she mutters.
“Ouch.”
