Authors: Leigh Morgan
Mr. Dark and Dangerous looking didn't seem
to mind when he appraised her figure this morning at the art
museum, Reed thought, remembering how his gaze seemed to linger on
her trim waste and gently curved chest. Maybe he would show up for
their date.
Shoveling a fork-f of mixed greens, bell
peppers and walnuts into her mouth, Reed wondered just when it was
she'd given up the dream of a husband and a child of her own; a
real family.
A sudden jolt of guilt made Reed choke on
her salad. The family she had was real enough. She was too old to
expect more. Finn had been trying to mother her since Reed showed
up at her door, fifteen, homeless, and pregnant. Thinking of her
mother and what came after her death brought tears to Reed's eyes.
Looking down, she forced another bite of food down her throat as
she willed away pain that went too deep to examine. Ever. She
changed the subject instead.
"Exactly what strays do I bring home?" Reed
asked, trying to change the subject before Finn caught her
sadness.
Finn held up a long elegant hand and started
ticking off examples, one perfectly manicured finger at a time.
"Let's start with the latest additions to our family, shall we? One
half-starved kitten that now looks like a full grown tiger." Up
went fingers two through five. "A barn owl with a broken wing. Not
one, but three rescue deerhounds who eat more than Jesse packs away
in a week. And don't even get me started on Charlie."
"I married Charlie."
"Don't remind me."
"Charlie helped us buy this house, and it
was his idea to try our hand at elder care. Without Charlie, Irma
wouldn't be moving in and we wouldn't be able to offer the elder
day-care activities he helped structure. Without Charlie, we'd be
broke."
"My point exactly. No more strays. We can't
afford them."
"Irma will be paying her way."
"I mean it, Reed. Unless this guy is a
billionaire in hiding, don't adopt him. We've got all the strays,
and the bills they create, we can handle. I had to sell another
painting to pay the mortgage this month."
Reed sighed. As much as she enjoyed getting
Finn all riled up, the mortgage payment wasn't something to joke
about. Finn hated to part with her paintings and she'd sold four of
them so far this year to fund Potters Woods and their elder-care
expansion. Someday, Reed swore, she was going to buy them all back,
she just needed to figure out how. It was easier when she had a
consistent paycheck, but that left when Jesse came. Water under the
bridge for both of them now, and well worth the price. There were
other ways to make a buck. She and Finn would find them.
Irma's rent would cover the mortgage while
they figured out how to cover the rest of their expenses. Getting
rid of Jesse, Charlie or the dogs was out of the question. Reed
smiled, at least she could relieve Finn's worry over her bringing
the man from the museum home as a 'stray'.
"I have no intention of adopting him. I
don't even know his name." Reed grinned at Finn, unable to resist
yanking her chain a little. "He's cute though. If you like big,
dark, brooding types with crooked smiles and come-get-me eyes. He'd
look great lounging in my bedroom, fresh from the bath, a fluffy
towel slung low on his hips."
"
Reed
!" Finn threw a walnut from her
salad at Reed's head. Walnuts make better weapons than mini orange
slices. Reed didn't duck in time and it hit her smack-dab in the
middle of her forehead. "Don't even think about it. I mean it.
Jesse is the last male we're adopting. We cannot afford any
more."
Reed got up and kissed the top of her aunt's
head. "No worries, Finn. You can't adopt what you can't name. And I
very much doubt he's a billionaire in hiding just waiting for me to
sweep him off his feet."
...
Jordon rang the bell on Reed's front door
wondering what it was about her that had him standing here at the
bottom of the proverbial rabbit hole wanting a date for dinner
instead of searching for a bride. It didn't make immediate sense to
him, but then again some of the best producing companies he
acquired seemed unlikely to turn a profit when he first looked at
them.
Jordon rang the bell again.
A small man, in his early sixties, opened
the door. His white mustache and goatee were cut close to his face
and freshly combed. He was wearing a bright purple smoking jacket
with flaming red trim, black silk pajama bottoms underneath, and
crimson slippers with the letter 'c' in flamboyant script detailed
in gold thread. The pipe in his hand was unlit, but carried the
scent of fresh tobacco.
He looked Jordon up and down, his gray eyes
lingering a bit too long below Jordon's belt buckle before snapping
back up to meet Jordon's less than pleased gaze. The man winked at
him before stepping aside and gesturing for Jordon to come in.
"Don't worry, boy. I never steal Reed's
dates." He said. The boy comment made Jordon's eyes narrow, but he
didn't respond, a female voice cut in before he had a chance.
"Who are you kidding, Charlie? You don't
date. You devour prey."
The man chuckled and led Jordon deeper into
the foyer which was large, open, and welcoming. As the woman
approached, Jordon could have sworn he saw the older man rub his
hand over his unlit pipe in a gesture Jordon could only describe as
glee. "Why thank you, Finn. It's good to be appreciated at my age.
Even if only from the fairer sex."
"That wasn't appreciation, Charlie, it was
apprehension. Two totally different things." Finn said, holding her
hand out to Jordon. He shook it. "I'm Finn Mohr, Reed's aunt.
That's her...a...that's Charlie."
"I can speak for myself, Finn. And don't hog
the boy, give him some space. He's too old for you, anyway."
Finn ignored Charlie's thinly veiled insult
and motioned with one long hand for Jordon to come further into the
room. There was a long bench for him sit on, but he preferred to
stand, just in case he decided to make a run for the door.
Finn, he noticed, was as unusually tall as
Charlie was small. Even though she was barefoot, Finn stood only a
few inches shorter than Jordon's six foot two. He was used to tall
women who looked like sticks. This one didn't. Finn would never be
called willowy. She had the blond hair, but she was definitely more
Raquel Welch than Pamela Anderson. Her body may have screamed sex
kitten, but her eyes, as she openly appraised him, didn't. She was
in no way pleased to have him there.
"If there's any way you can make it through
the night without telling Reed your name, I'll give you fifty
bucks." She seemed to think about it before sweetening her offer.
"And I'll throw in a jar of homemade raspberry salad dressing. It's
organic."
Jordon seriously considered walking out.
He'd already lost eight hours in his wife search, and landing in
Wonderland had never been part of his dinner plan. He turned to go
and three hairy canine monsters blocked the door. They just stood
there, regal, silent and huge. How they got there, Jordon hadn't a
clue. Had they followed him in? Jordon wasn't scared exactly, he
just didn't want to turn his back on them.
"Mo, Curly, Larry. Come on girls out
back."
Reed's voice filled the entry hall easing
the knot between Jordon's shoulder blades he hadn't realized was
there until it left with her voice, and the dogs' departure.
Jordon's hands unfisted when the dogs sauntered past him silently
heading toward the backyard. He turned back toward Reed's voice and
there they were, Reed's family, in a line in front of her, blocking
her way. Crazy Charlie, amazon Finn, Jesse the over-grown teenager
with eyes a decade older than his sixteen years, standing shoulder
to shoulder like an offensive line protecting their quarterback.
Reed nudged Jesse and managed to get between Jordon and the
menagerie she called family. She took a step closer to him and he
relaxed, knowing he wasn't going anywhere without her.
Reed was dressed in another over-sized
concert t-shirt with a logo of a band Jordon didn't recognize. It
was long enough that it had been made into a fitted dress that cut
in at her waist, but didn't cling to her curves, stopping just
below mid-thigh. Not nearly short enough to suit him. What Jordon
could see of her thighs indicated strength that suggested years of
intense exercise. She didn't wear heels, she chose open-toed
sandals with straps that wound around her delicate ankles and ended
in a bow half way up her well defined calves. The effect wasn't off
the runways of Paris or Milan, but that didn't matter to Jordon,
and it certainly didn't distract his eyes from her slim, but
powerfully built body.
The dress itself was a study in contrasts,
part rock-n-roll, part Vera Wang and all red-headed elf. The
sleeves had been cut to accentuate her shoulders, the small 'v'
just below her collar bone was held together with tiny silver
chains, with even tinier silver bells attached in the center. It
revealed very little and yet it was sexy as hell. Reed looked fifty
times better than she had this morning and totally different from
any other woman he'd ever dated. She sparkled with life, and an
almost childlike exuberance Jordon found contagious. She spun
gracefully on tip-toes for him, making the tiny bells at her chest
ring softly.
"Do you like my dress?"
I like you
.
"Yes." He said, telling her the truth. "
It's like nothing I've ever seen."
She beamed at him. "Thanks. Finn and I made
it. I thought the bells were a little over the top, but she
insisted."
"Finn was right."
Reed blinked and changed the subject,
obviously not one to hammer a compliment into the ground. That too
was a new experience for Jordon, one he wasn't sure he liked.
Jordon enjoyed flattering women, he was good at it. But, he
supposed he could get used to a woman who didn't require it every
five minutes.
"So," she asked, still light hearted but
more serious now, "How much did Finn promise to pay you if you
don't tell me your name?"
"Fifty bucks."
"You going to take it?"
Four pairs of inquisitive eyes stared at
him. Charlie looked like he was trying to place Jordon but couldn't
quite get there. The old guy was definitely smarter than his
clothes gave him credit for. Time to leave before it all clicked in
Charlie's gray matter, and Jordon was outed before he could do the
deed himself.
"The jury's still out." Jordon answered,
before changing the subject, mainly because he didn't get the big
deal about his name or why anyone would pay him not to give it.
"Do you like Mexican food?" He asked.
"As long as there's no tequila." Reed
grimaced. "We've met, we danced, we don't get along. I love Mexican
food though. There are some great places on Mitchell Street in
Milwaukee if you're game."
Jordon held his hand out to her. "I'm more
than game."
"What am I supposed to call you until you
make up your mind about taking Finn's money?" Reed asked, crossing
to him, placing her hand in his. "Yogurt man?"
Jordon grinned down at her, enjoying himself
for the first time in a long time. "That'll do. For now. At least
until we see if I can cover dinner without your aunt's money."
CHAPTER FIVE
When the ocean comes to you as a lover,
marry, at once, quickly,
for God's sake!
Don't postpone it!
Existence has no better gift...
Rumi ~ 13th Century
The restaurant wasn't much to look at from
the street, but the open air bistro in the back, the thirty-seven
kinds of tequila, and the outstanding food, more than made up for
the peeling paint. The air was clear and comfortably warm, the
stickiness of the day disappearing with the sun. The chili pepper
and margarita glass patio lights glowed softly as the sky turned
from orange to purple, then midnight blue. Milwaukee summer
evenings were spectacular in their beauty, Jordon thought. One more
thing to add to his short list of things he liked about
Wisconsin.
The salsa music surrounding them, playing
just loudly enough to be felt, filled the night with a sense of
expectation. Fresh cilantro, lime, and spice teased the air with
fragrance, whetting Jordon's appetite.
His stomach growled, but he was hungry for
more than food. Reed smiled provocatively at him from across their
small table. Jordon didn't think she was doing it on purpose. That
was just the way she smiled when she meant it, from the tips of her
sparkly pink toenails all the way to the full corners of her mouth.
She was just one of those people who felt every emotion they showed
the world from the core out. And she was too far away from him.
Close enough to touch if he reached, but not nearly close enough to
suit him.
Drops of sweat from Reed's beer bottle hit
her chest, rolling slowly down as she drank. She'd declined a
glass, something he hadn't seen a woman do since he left Jackson.
The motion of her throat as she swallowed and the small
ahh
sound she made when she was done had Jordon's pants tightening
around his groin. He didn't believe Reed was trying to seduce him,
she just seemed to be enjoying his company. That too was something
he hadn't experienced with anyone but Henry in far too long. Jordon
allowed himself to simply enjoy the moment for what it was, a good
time, a welcome diversion.
"So, what do I call you? Yogurt man sounds
just plain dumb."
Jordon laughed, it did sound dumb. "My
name's Jordon."
She cocked her head at him and set down the
chip she'd been about to dunk into the pot of mild salsa. She left
the spicy stuff for him, which suited Jordon just fine. He was
quickly finding out he liked more than his salsa spicy.