Jordan, page 2
Jordan’s dark eyes lift and lock on mine.
Shit! I turn around so abruptly I nearly topple off my barstool. I can’t blame alcohol since I haven’t had any. I tense, staring straight ahead. I didn’t come all the way to North Haven not to talk to Jordan. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to face him at this exact moment.
“Ella?”
I gulp a swallow I nearly choke on and slowly turn to face the man standing beside me. The scent of his familiar woodsy cologne assaults my senses, instantly turning my insides to goo. I have a t-shirt of his I stole to capture his scent, but it’s faded completely over the years. God how I’ve missed that scent. “Hi.” The word comes out as a high-pitched squeak.
“What are you doing here?” The coldness in his dark eyes doesn’t bode well for me.
“That’s a…funny story, actually.”
“What can I get the birthday boy?” the bartender asks Jordan, giving me a moment to focus on breathing. That task has been incredibly hard since the only man I’ve ever truly loved walked in the door a few minutes ago. “It’s on the house.”
“In that case, give me a Caribou Creek Pilsner and a shot of whiskey.” Jordan looks at me, a war of emotions dancing wildly in his eyes. An undeniable heat swirls dangerously between us. With the way his eyes keep dropping to my lips, it takes every ounce of restraint not to leap up from my seat and tackle him against the bar. “Actually, make that two shots.”
“Jordan—”
“It’s my birthday,” he insists, pushing one of the shot glasses to me. That blanket of heat burning hotter with his closer proximity. I rarely drink, and when I do, it’s a glass of wine. My last memory of whiskey is…unpleasant to say the least. He lifts his shot glass to me in toast. “One shot. Then maybe you can explain why you’re in North Haven instead of getting married.”
4
JORDAN
My head pounds violently. Every movement makes me damn near throw up. “Who the fuck turned on all the lights?” I grumble, covering my eyes with both hands. It’s so damn bright that the possibility I’ve been abducted by aliens and stuck in a bright white exam room is not all that farfetched.
“Good morning, princess.” James drops a cold bottle of water against my arm. I hear the rattle of pills in a bottle. “Better take some or you’ll be hating life all day.”
It takes a few moments to orient myself and realize I’m on my couch. Sunlight filters annoyingly through my blinds as I force myself to sit up, promising it’s at least late morning. Maybe even afternoon. The window of daylight hours is considerably smaller this time of year. I fucking reek of alcohol and cigar smoke.
“Lucky you’re on leave for a few days,” James says from the kitchen. Every rattle and clang makes my head pound harder. “Guessing you haven’t tied one on that bad in a while.”
Slowly, the events of the night before come back in slivers. Finding Ella Maccabee at the bar. Ordering shot after shot of whiskey. Knocking the cake my sister made me to the floor—on accident, of course. But it was definitely not edible after that splat. Michael, the bartender, cutting me off and telling me to go home after I broke a chair. Possibly yelling at me to never come back. “Fuck. It was bad.”
“Bad is an understatement.”
I gulp the water until it’s gone. I list of amends I have to make is embarrassingly long. There’s a possibility that I’m banned from The Iceberg and my sister hates me. But before I figure out how to make up for it all, I have to know one thing. “Where’s Ella?”
“Jonas gave her a ride back to the lodge last night.” James turns on my blender, the noise threatening to make my head explode.
The thought of anyone alone with Ella makes my blood boil. Even one of the J-Squad. I remember saying some less than kind things about her fiancé. Announcing them really. But that didn’t give Jonas or anyone else the right to hit on her.
“It’s not what you think,” James says when the blender stops. “Some jackass was hitting on her hard. She wanted out of there. And she was pretty pissed at you.”
I push off the couch despite the migraine assaulting my every move. I know I got shitfaced last night, but I never would’ve been so far gone that I left Ella unprotected. I think I might be sick. “What are you talking about?”
“You fucked up, man. In big ways,” James says, pouring a disgusting green smoothie concoction into a glass and handing it over. The smell alone nearly makes me puke. “If you want to make things right, you’re going to need this to function. Just hold your breath and suck it down.”
I do it before I think about it.
“I don’t know what fucking demon possessed you last night, but you might want to lay low for a while. If word gets back to the admiral, you might be in some serious shit. You could get booted for misconduct.” He takes the empty glass from me as the gravity of his words hits me. The coast guard is everything to me. I don’t know who I am without it. “Now go take a shower, princess. You can’t fix anything smelling like the inside of a pig’s asshole.”
“Is she still here?” I ask him, the pounding in my chest temporarily silencing the pounding in my head.
“I don’t know for how long. There’s a flight out of here in a couple of hours.” He doesn’t have to point out the obvious. If Ella thinks I hate her, she’ll be on that plane. Gone from my life forever. After the way I acted, I can’t blame her. I never thought I’d get a second chance with her. How in the hell could I fuck it up so badly right out the gate? “Get your ass in the shower, princess.”
“Call me princess one more time,” I grumble.
“You can fuck me up later,” James says with a shit eating grin on his face.
The nickname was one I earned from a company commander when we were in boot camp because I always took too long to shave. The guys never let me forget it. James, the bastard, knows it’s fueling me to get my ass in gear. At least I didn’t piss off everyone last night. James might be the only friend I have on speaking terms. I might deck him if his calls me princess one more time, but I fucking owe him.
I force myself in the shower, my resolve becoming crystal clear: win Ella Maccabee’s forgiveness. If I’m lucky enough to achieve that, I’ll focus on making the most out of this unexpected second chance. And this time, I don’t plan to let her go.
5
ELLA
“Where are you going to go?” Serenity asks, her compassionate voice crackly through the hotel phone. Though she was shoving me into an Uber twenty-four hours ago, it feels like weeks have gone by since I last saw my bestie. I’ve never gone so long without using a cell phone. I feel like I’m in an alternate reality.
“The Bahamas?” I joke.
“Theo went.”
“He did?” I don’t know why I’m so shocked that my ex-fiancé went on our honeymoon after being jilted at the altar. I supposed I’d do the same if I were in his shoes. The entire trip was paid for and nonrefundable. It makes me feel a twist of guilt. “This is all my fault—”
“No!” Serenity snaps. “Don’t you dare go there. You did not want to marry the man. And sweetie?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think he’s been as faithful to you as you thought. He took Camille with him.”
“As in my bridesmaid Camille?”
“Yep.”
I wait for the stab of pain to hit my chest, but it doesn’t come. In fact, I don’t feel hurt or betrayed at all. I feel…relieved. “Huh.”
“I don’t think you should leave Alaska yet,” Serenity adds, her tone firm but careful. “I know Jordan got shitfaced and made a complete ass out of himself. But you probably shocked the hell out of the man. Give him a day or two to process. Let him get his head on a little straighter before you throw in the towel. You did say there was still a spark.”
Spark is an understatement.
The way Jordan looked at me when he first came up to me at the bar is burned into my memory. It was a mixture of shock, disbelief, and burning desire. Seeing me had to be a complete shock. Yes, he was a drunk asshole. But the stolen glances throughout the night were filled with a longing and heat that have my nipples still aching for his touch. I suspect he only drank because he knew I was supposed to get married—on his birthday. I didn’t expect him to have that knowledge, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. If I found a way to stalk him on social media, he probably found a way to stalk me. Which gives me a small bubble of hope that I’m not the only one holding a torch.
“Besides,” Serenity adds, “your mother is furious.”
“How bad is it?”
Serenity lets out a laugh. “She threatened to get me fired if I didn’t give up your location. But she’s too busy dealing with the media coverage of her runaway bride daughter to follow through.”
“If she fires you—”
“Sweetie, that’s not gonna happen. They need me too much around here. The whole place would fall apart without me. Not even Beverly Maccabee has that much power in this town. You should keep that in mind. You’re a grown ass woman. It’s time to stop being afraid of your mother and set up some serious boundaries. What better day to start than today?”
I stare at the wedding dress laid across my bed. Originally, I was going to head downtown to find a garment bag so I could take it back to Virginia Beach with me. It’s the logical thing to do. But, you know, screw that. I never wanted the damned dress. I’m sure as hell not going to deal with the hassle of transporting it all the way back. “You’re right,” I say, feeling a sense of freedom wash over me. “Today is a good day for exactly that.”
It’s entirely possible that Jordan’ll go out of his way to avoid me whether I stay one more day or twenty. But while I wait him out, there is one thing I can do. Since I’m running low on cash, I can pawn the flashy dress I never wanted in the first place.
“Call me tomorrow, okay?”
“I will.”
I change into the pair of jeans and hoodie I picked up in the Seattle airport during my layover. Though it’s not exactly ideal for this chilly Alaskan winter weather, it’s the warmest outfit I have with me. It’ll have to do.
I drape the dress over my arm and head down to the lobby, hoping my toes won’t freeze in these flipflops before I make it down the street to the pawn shop. The aroma of freshly baked cookies drifts to me as I pass the cramped dining room, causing my stomach to rumble. Reminding me that I haven’t eaten yet today.
“Wow, that’s a beautiful dress!” Since I was fixated on the cookies, the gushing woman catches me by surprise. Her dark eyes sparkle. If I had to guess, I’d peg her for about twenty-five. “I’m getting married, too.” She holds out her left hand, showing off a simple yet elegant engagement ring. The kind of ring I wanted, but no. I got one with a diamond big enough to take out an eye with one accidental scrape. “This summer, anyway.”
“Oh, I’m not getting married. Not anymore.”
“Oh.” She seems thrown, unsure how to interpret what I’ve just said.
“It’s for the best, believe me. He wasn’t who I was supposed to marry. I just wish I’d figured that out a little sooner. That’s all.”
“Andi, are you ready?” An older woman comes up beside her, the resemblance uncanny.
“Mom, isn’t this dress beautiful?” Her eyes twinkle. Andi can’t seem to take her eyes off the sparkly white gown with far too much bling for my tastes.
It hits me. She’s at least a dress size smaller than me. Maybe two. This dress wouldn’t suffocate her the same way it did me… “Do you want it?”
“What?” Andi asks, shocked. “You’re selling your dress?”
“Andi, that’s not in the budget,” her mom says, almost under her breath. But it’s not snide or condescending. Her words are filled with compassion. In the thirty seconds I’ve seen them together, I recognize the close relationship they have. It’s the type of relationship I’ve always wanted with my own mother.
“Take it,” I say, offering it to her. “I don’t want anything for it.”
“We can’t accept that,” her mom says.
“It’s not a brand-new dress,” I say, hoping that’ll help her mom come around more easily. I hated the dress, but not because it’s ugly. Only because it wasn’t my taste. “I wore it on a plane, so you might need to get it cleaned. Plus, I think a couple of the buttons might’ve popped in the back. I wouldn’t feel right asking for money since it needs some work.”
“Nothing I can’t fix,” her mom says, warming to the idea.
“My mom’s the best seamstress in town,” Andi explains. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
“I’d feel better knowing it went to someone who will love it.”
“Can I hug you?” Andi asks, wiping a tear from her cheek. The second I hand the dress to her mom, the stranger strangles me in a hug that could rival Serenity’s suffocating squeezes. “I can’t thank you enough!”
When she finally lets me come up for air, I see him.
Jordan Harris is standing in the lobby, one hand shoved in his coat pocket, the other holding a bouquet of pink orchids.
6
JORDAN
“You can’t stay here,” I say firmly to Ella as soon as we’re in her lodge room. It’s not exactly the apology I’d practiced on the way over here. But seeing her in the lobby with more than one creeper ogling her caused my overprotective side to roar to life. Maybe she’s oblivious to the attention, but I’m not. Apologies can wait.
“Excuse me?” Ella says, whipping around and facing me.
“It’s not safe.”
She folds her arms over her chest, refusing to take the flowers I offer her. Pink orchids were always her favorite, which means she’s super pissed at me. Guess I expected as much. “You make it sound like this lodge is crawling with murderers and drug dealers.”
“Come stay with me,” I insist. The men-to-women ratio in North Haven is very uneven, making every woman a prize to fight over. At times, it can bring out the worst in people. It’s the only thing I wish I could change about this otherwise nice community. One I could see settling down in and raising a family.
Her stern expression softens. I don’t miss her gaze flickering to my lips. Damn it all to hell. How long have I dreamt of kissing her just one more time? If I hadn’t been such a jackass last night, maybe I would’ve gotten the chance. Knock it off. You don’t even know why she’s really here.
“I’m fine here.”
“I’m sorry.” Without forethought, I reach for her elbow. She glances down at my hand but doesn’t shrug it away. “I wasn’t prepared to see you last night. I didn’t handle it well.” My fingers slowly slide up her arm until my palm is flat against her bicep. “I never thought I’d see you again. I thought…” I can’t finish my sentence because the words hurt too much to speak. Reminding me that Ella Maccabee has always been my kryptonite. She’s the only one who makes my heart beat, and the only one who has the ability to crush it. If I had any sense at all, I’d drop my hand. Not step closer.
“I’m sorry I ambushed you,” she says, her words a whisper as I dip my head lower. She reaches a palm to my chest, sliding her soft hand beneath my coat and covering my rapidly beating heart. A heart that has only ever beaten for her.
I rest my forehead against hers, closing my eyes to memorize how fucking good this feels. Just to be near Ella again is all I’ve craved for over a decade. “I never thought I’d see you again, sweetheart.”
“I couldn’t do it,” she says, her breath mingling with mine. “I couldn’t marry someone who wasn’t you.”
The bouquet falls to the floor as I pounce, pulling her to me as our lips crash together. Last night when I first saw her at the bar, I felt drawn to her in the same irresistible way I did a decade ago. I tried to drink that feeling away, convinced it was just nostalgia. Convinced it wasn’t real. But as our lips meet over and over in passionate hunger, I realize I was lying to myself.
I lift her into my arms and carry us to the bed, collapsing on top of her. She tilts her head back, giving me access to her beautiful neck. She moans softly as I kiss a trail down to her collarbone. As her hands dig into the back of my neck, she arches her hips into me. My dick was mostly hard, but now it’s fully ready to come out and play.
I slide a hand up her sweatshirt, groaning at the feel of her silky skin. Fuck, I could spend an entire day worshipping her deliciously curvy body. A body I already know by heart. I tug off her hoodie, delighted to find only a bra in my way. I press my lips against the lace, allowing my hot breath to tease her nipples into submission.
A loud ruckus in the hall reminds me where we’re at, but it doesn’t stop my hand from sliding between her legs, discovering damp denim. I press a thumb hard against her core, aiming to pleasure her swollen clit. But a thundering thump against the door, followed by an argument, prevents me from completing my mission.
“That,” I growl, pinning her with my stern gaze. “That is why you can’t stay here.” I pop off the bed, panting as though I’ve just finished a hundred laps in the pool. Fuck, I forget how dazed I am around Ella Maccabee. It’s euphoric and dangerous. She has the power to make me feel incredible highs and the ability to absolutely destroy me. But I could no more walk away than I could stop breathing. “Get your stuff. We’re leaving.”
7
ELLA
“Are you sure about this place?” I ask, eyeing the worn-out food truck through the windshield of Jordan’s Jeep with suspicion. Sinfully Delicious Burgers is a catchy enough name, and it does smell inviting. But their rundown exterior makes me hesitant as we approach. Their hand written menu is a barely legible scrawl on a slat of cardboard and taped over the old logo, Rocco’s something or other.
“I’ve eaten their burgers dozens of times,” Jordan reassures, nodding at the people to indicate we’re not the only ones taking a risk. “You can ask Blakely. I haven’t gotten sick once.”
