Page 24 of One Little Chance
The few remaining from the team clapped, and parents bid their goodbyes to us and each other while we were still catching our breaths. And I was trying to stuff down the desire to climb back on him.
“You’re still a showoff,” I said.
“You said the deal was toshow offmy moves,” he said, spreading his arms out. “Did I earn my coffee date?”
Date.My heart caught. “You put in the effort.”
I helped him clean while he told me about his first practice. He was bright and excited with a smile on his face that he couldn’t contain—a smile I’d missed desperately. I loved the way he loved coaching these kids.
Finally, as he slammed his truck door after the final load, he looked at me and said, “Where to for that cup of coffee?”
“I know a spot,” I said, grabbing his hand and leading him across the street to my house.
My kitchen suddenly felt tiny once Jordan with his miles of broad shoulders and long legs was standing inside it. I tried to calm my excited little heart bouncing around and busy myself with making coffee.
I could feel his warmth when he walked up behind me, his breath inches away from my neck. I lost count as I spooned ground coffee into the filter.
“What kind of coffee you got there?” he asked.
My hands were so jittery coffee spilled from the spoon. We both ignored it.
“What are you a fancy coffee snob now?” I scooted to the side so he could see for himself. “Is that good enough for you?”
“I’ve used an espresso machine for the last couple years.”
“No.” I gasped, returning to the coffee machine. “Do you use the tiny cups, too?” I snorted at the picture of a tiny espresso cup in Jordan’s big hands. I poured water into the dispenser.
“Sometimes,” he said, taking a step closer to me. “And it’s good, Sophie.”
“Mhmm,” I hummed.Click. I turned on the coffee machine.
“Maybe I should make you a cup some morning?” he said. A bright idea. I was pretty sure if Jordan was making it, I would like it. “I can still add cinnamon.”
I twirled around. My back was against the kitchen counter. Jordan put an arm around each side of me and hunched his shoulders so we were face to face.
“Now you’re a fancy espresso drinker.” I raised my chin. “What else is new?”
He took a step back, crossing his arms. “Well, I like plants.” I felt cold in his body’s absence.
“You like plants now? You’re a plant daddy?”
He grabbed my hands as if pleading with me. “I don’t know what that is, but please don’t call me that ever again.”
“Okay, so what do you mean youlike plants?” I cocked my head, my ponytail falling across my shoulder.
“I have maybe ten different potted plants around my place. They each have their own schedule with the sun and water. I’ve done this for years now. I like the routine of it.”
“Did you name them?” I felt a pang in my chest, dying to know the plant routine.
He just grinned. I knew Jordan. He’d definitely named them. “Now, you. Tell me something new.”
“Something new.” I tapped my chin thoughtfully.Hefelt like something new and something familiar all at once. “I’ve gotten super into reading mysteries and thrillers. I can’t get enough. I’ll read one a night sometimes.”
Jordan laughed. “You say this like you’re admitting an addiction?—”
I grabbed his hand and led him back through the living room, then turned into my bedroom. I pointed at the bookshelves lining the wall stuffed with books. His eyes went wide at the sheer volume.
“I never knew you were this into mysteries.” He walked in and perused the spines. “What a collection.”
