The next day, Brandon expected Jordan to cancel, having changed her mind overnight, but she didn’t.
She was sitting in the passenger seat of his Mercedes as they both endured the long and awkward drive from her workplace. The awkwardness was his doing. Again. So as the highway bustled with evening traffic, and the sun cast its last hues over the horizon, his sweaty palms turned the steering wheel toward the exit ramp.
He’d talked Jordan into taking a quick detour with him before dinner, so she had a right to be frustrated. She’d agreed, though she didn’t know where he was taking her—and he wasn’t sure he should take her there. But it felt like the right thing to do since he’d double booked to make this work at all, and the last thing he wanted to do was cancel on Jordan. She’d given him a shot, though she didn’t know that yet, and he was going to take full advantage. Plus, he was willing to try anything to help his mother feel better, no matter how desperate or crazy it seemed.
His knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. This was fucking desperate and crazy. But it was too late. He brought the car to a stop in the hospital’s parking lot.
“We’re here,” he announced.
“Please stop trying to be funny. You’ve already proven you’re not.” Jordan sighed. “Seriously, where are we going?”
Even her frown was gorgeous, though he had nothing to compare it to—it was all she ever gave him. Given her lack of transparency, he was surprised to find sadness lurking in her honey eyes. It did something to him, something he didn’t understand. He just knew he didn’t want to be one of the reasons she was sad.
Cracking his door open, he hopped out and hurried around the front of the white Mercedes to Jordan’s door.
“I’m not getting out until you tell me what we’re doing here,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. He took a bouquet of flowers from the backseat and handed it to her.
“Oh,” Jordan said, and her face gave way to a pleased yet shocked expression.
“Those aren’t for you. Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly. “They’re for the person we’re going to see.”
Jordan shook her head but smiled. “I really don’t like you, and this is not a date. I just want to make that extremely clear.”
“You don’t have to like me right now. Think of this as a favor. I know I should be the one doing you favors, but I promise I’ll make up for it. And I got it, sweetheart. This isn’t a date. You’ve reminded me twice since I picked you up. Actually, just consider this as your debt paid in full for me rescuing you from that woman.”
“You didn’t rescue me . . .” Jordan huffed.
The Mercedes sat low to the ground, and because Jordan refused to take his hand, he could only watch her struggle and glare at him as she attempted to get out.
“Seriously.” Jordan sighed as her tight-fitting dress and high heels worked against her.
He bit his lip to fight his amusement.
“Can you turn your head, please? I’m afraid I might expose myself getting out of this ridiculous car.”
“This car is amazing, and if you’d take my hand it would make it much easier, but suit yourself.”
“In case you were wondering, you’re still a jerk,” Jordan said when she finally stood and straightened her clothes.
Her dress had a low, square neckline, and he could see the plump tops of her breasts peeking out at him. Her straightened golden hair, which she swept to one side of her face, was so long it fell a few inches past her breasts.
As they walked toward the building, Jordan ran her hands up and down her arms.
“You look like you could use a bit more clothing.” Not that he didn’t appreciate every curve her dark purple, sleeveless dress hugged on her body. She ignored his comment, so he added, “But it’s the perfect dress for the perfect occasion. Careful, I might think you’re trying to impress me.”
She pressed her painted lips together, and he could tell she was fighting the urge to respond. Shit, maybe she really didn’t like him.
“Would you like my jacket?” Brandon asked, adding a hint of softness to his deep voice. “I know you didn’t plan for this.”
With pride, she shook her head, staring at the elevator like she was willing it to open. “I’m fine.”
She paused for an old man with a walker as the elevator doors opened, but Brandon allowed her to walk ahead of him, with much pleasure. What a view! Her ass was perfection. Now he had even more motivation to prove himself, though he still had no fucking idea how. Why was it so hard with her? He could charm the panties off any other woman in half an hour max—anything over that and she wasn’t worth the effort.
So why was Jordan here and about to meet his mother?
Nurses and visitors turned to look as they walked the corridor, probably because Jordan wouldn’t take his jacket—not that it would’ve hidden how drop-dead gorgeous she was. It was his fault. He’d put her in this situation, and he could tell she was uncomfortable with the attention as she hugged herself.
He shrugged out of his jacket. “That’s it, I insist you take my jacket, because now I can’t tell if that seventy-year-old man was stripping me or you with his eyes, and I kind of want it to be me.”
When she didn’t respond, Brandon stopped her and searched her eyes. Suddenly she didn’t seem like the confident woman she’d been for the little time he’d known her. “Everything okay?”
Her eyes were distant as she spoke. “Don’t pretend what I think and feel matters to you. I’m completely outside of my comfort zone. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove tonight, but whatever you’re doing isn’t necessary. Just because you’re attractive doesn’t give you the right to use another person’s misfortune to get someone to like you. And it won’t work, because this is the lowest thing you could ever do to impress a girl, Brandon, and I can’t do this. Can you take me home, please?”
A nurse pushed an older woman in a wheelchair past them.
“Wow, okay. I deserve that,” he said. What he was doing was, in fact, insane. “But this isn’t to impress you.”
She shook her head and lowered her eyes. “I’ve been down this road before, and I don’t like pretenders. If you’re an asshole, just be an asshole. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“Fair enough. But now it’s my time to remind you, this isn’t a date.” He stepped behind her and covered her shoulders with his jacket. A gentle scent floated up from her—peach, jasmine, or rose petals? Fuck, of course she would smell delicious, too. “To be honest, I need your help. If you want me to, I will leave you alone forever after you do this one thing for me. This seemed like a better idea when I first thought of it, but my mom is sick. She is constantly bothering me about dating and grandchildren. Frankly, it’s both sad and frustrating. I just need her to see I’m not hopeless. That’s all. I don’t want to be part of the reason she’s stressed.”
Jordan’s empathic look told him she would agree to his craziness, and he only hoped she didn’t start to pity him. That wasn’t why he’d brought her along.
“What would make her think you’re hopeless?”
His thoughts drifted to Hailey without a glitch, but that was his past, and no one who hadn’t been there would ever know what happened. However, Jordan was finally letting her guard down, and he couldn’t be an ass to her again. So he settled for the closest truth.
“Because I don’t see the fairy-tale ending everyone else does.”
Jordan smiled, and his heart contracted, then paused before resuming its normal rhythm. What in the actual fuck? As his body grew hot, he tried to dispel any other thoughts besides how he wanted her in his bed.
“Well, this is shocking. I believe we have one thing in common. I’m not much for fairy tales either.” Her voice was much less defensive than he’d come to expect. It sounded smooth and sultry. Even his cock twitched in approval.
They entered a small, private room filled with fresh flowers, balloons, and his family. The head of the hospital bed had been raised upright, with his mother’s tiny frame in the middle, and his father and aunt stood on either side. The tubes attached to her during treatments had been removed, but that was most likely temporarily. Everyone’s head turned to Brandon as he entered, and then to the stranger behind him.
He kissed his mother’s cheek. “Happy birthday, Mom.”
Kim Kuvat’s youthful appearance was vanishing quickly these days, and each time he noticed, it lodged a new bullet into Brandon’s chest.
He was supposed to be armored, but not with her. Family was an exception.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he raised a hand, calling Jordan over when he saw her still standing by the door. “Mom, this is my friend Jordan. Her friends call her Jo, but I like Jordan.” He looked up and beamed at her. She returned his smile, though he couldn’t tell if she was just being polite. “Jordan, this is my mom, Kim Kuvat.”
Jordan took his mother’s delicate hand in hers. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuvat. Oh, and here you go. Your charming son made me think these were for me. Happy birthday.”
Mrs. Kuvat laughed before she started to cough. “Brandon?”
“Mom, it wasn’t really like that,” Brandon explained, smiling and fixing his mother’s hair. “Jordan, don’t be funny. It’ll make her cough.”
“I’m sorry.” Jordan retreated, embarrassment staining her face.
“Stop that,” his mother said, admonishing him. She looked at Jordan. “Here, sweetheart, you can have the flowers. You deserve them if you have to put up with him. He is his father’s son.” A nostalgic look came over her. “I still remember how his father tripped me and smashed my knee on our very first date. But as crazy as it was, I think that’s when I first started to fall for him—literally.” She smiled affectionately at his father.
The awkwardness disappeared, and the room filled with laughter. Even in her dull state, his mother could still light up a room.
“How are you feeling today?” Brandon asked. “Oh, I have something else for you.” He retrieved a small jewelry box from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Brandon, I told you to stop buying me stuff,” she chastised. But he saw her delight as she opened the box, revealing the blue topaz bracelet he’d picked out for her.
Over the next half hour, a few more of his relatives and friends flowed into the small room, and he was sure the nurses would kick them out. He kept close to Jordan, although she seemed at ease with his family.
Natasha, his mother’s sister, caught sight of a nurse before the rest of them, and announced, “Hey, the nurse is here. Shhh . . .”
“No, she isn’t. Well, she is, but that’s Jamie, my mom,” Jordan explained, approaching the woman. “She works here.”
Her mom works here? Brandon knew he hadn’t exactly been forthcoming earlier, but why hadn’t she told him?
Jamie was shorter and heavier than Jordan, with strawberry blonde hair caught up in a bun. Brandon’s eyes moved from Jamie to Jordan, and when their eyes connected, he couldn’t look away. Intensity sparked between them, and the surrounding chatter and laughter vanished. All he could see was her until she released him from her spell.
“I heard it’s your birthday, young lady. You don’t look a day over forty,” Jamie said, caressing his mother’s feeble hand.
She laughed. “Gosh, oh how I wish.”
“Now that I know you’re here, I’ll come back and check up on you when I’m working. Anyone who’s a friend of my daughter is a friend of mine.” Jamie smiled then wrinkled her nose. “Except the men she dates.”
“Mom!” Jordan warned.
Natasha joined in. “We’ve all had one of those. No need to be embarrassed, honey. My mom still badgers me at thirty-nine.”
“Oh boy, this isn’t going to turn into some girl talk, is it?” his father asked, and Brandon was relieved.
Jordan’s dating history wasn’t his concern, though a part of him wanted to know more after she’d agreed with him about not seeing a fairy-tale ending, and then her mother’s comment . . . What kind of guys did she date?
“Not at all. Maybe next time we can sit and chat,” Jamie said. “I was just stopping by to see what my daughter has been up to.” She walked toward Brandon, and he could barely keep his feet steady. “So, you’re the gentleman who brought my daughter here. I was concerned, but you do look put together, and it’s something she really—”
“Mooomm,” Jordan whined and rushed over. “You should get back to work.”
“Okay, but call me,” Jamie stated rather than asked.
“I will.” Jordan’s cheeks flushed, and Brandon smiled. Even more fucking adorable.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked when she returned to his side, the effects of her embarrassment still present.
She shrugged. “Whatever you want. I’ll stay longer if you want me to.”
He studied her for a moment and then announced, “We have dinner reservations, so I’ll see you guys. And I’ll drop by tomorrow, Mom.”
“Be nice to her, and don’t do anything your father would,” she warned.
“And what’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?” his father probed.
“On that note . . .” Brandon said, waving to everyone as he escorted Jordan out of the room. “Why didn’t you tell me your mom worked here?” he asked once they reached the hall.
“Because I didn’t know you, or what your intentions were, and I was upset with you,” Jordan answered.
A pair of receptionists ogled them as they passed the desk, and he looked back to Jordan. “Was upset with me?”
“I still am, but not as much. I would have come with you if you’d just asked, you know. Anyway, now I’ll have to deal with my mom asking me about someone I’m not dating. So thanks for that.” She smirked.
“Hey, you invited her.” Brandon laughed. The automatic exit doors opened and a gush of wind encircled them. “But if you want, we could pretend to date. I’m sure she would leave you to your lonely life then.”
“You don’t know that my life is lonely,” Jordan said, taking ahold of her hair before the wind did.
“Are you sure about that?” Brandon asked as he stuck his foot out in front of her.
She let out a yelp as she tripped over his shoe, but before any damage could be done, he wrapped his arms around her. With his arms around her back, and hers gripping his sides, seconds passed. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from giving her a hug. She looked like she needed one. Or maybe it was him who needed one. Either way, it felt good.
“You’re despicable. I’m so telling your mother. I would go back up there right now if it weren’t for all the staring.”
“Tattletale,” Brandon teased, picking up the flowers from the ground and handing them back to her. “I was trying to help you out, get your adrenaline going to warm you up.”
“By trying to break my face? Are you crazy?” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait a minute, were you trying to do to me what your dad did to your mom?”
“I don’t know; are you falling for me yet?”
Laughter escaped her pretty lips as she shook her head, and Brandon let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
By the time he was done charming her, she would be a prize for sure.
He opened the car door and watched her ease into the black leather seat.
“It’s so warm in here,” she gushed.
He grinned down at her. “You like that? I turned on the car at the entrance so it would be nice and warm for you. You see, Jordan, I am, too, a gentleman.”
“With a gigantic ego. Shocking . . .”
Her face no longer showed the ease it had mere seconds ago. A pang of pain pushed against his chest. He wasn’t prepared for this much challenge; more accurately, he didn’t even know what the damn challenge was anymore—figuring her out, seducing her, or fucking her. One thing was for certain; he couldn’t just fuck her now that he’d introduced her to his family and met her intimidating mom in the process.
Well, he always could, but he didn’t want to.
The screen on his dashboard showed an incoming call from his lawyer, and he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel before giving in. “I’m sorry; I have to take this.”
Since his presence was no longer needed on a regular basis at Sky Fast, he’d moved on to other aspirations, one of which was a real estate investment firm he’d started.
“You said to call once I heard something.” His lawyer’s voice echoed in the car. “I have, and it’s not good. The board won’t approve it.”
“Dammit, what the—” Brandon passed a quick glance at Jordan, not wanting to scare her when he lost his shit, which he always did when someone stood in the way of what he wanted. “Their company is going down whether they like it or not. There’s no fucking question about it, and there’s nothing for them to sit and fucking ponder about.”
“Their lawyer said they aren’t going down without a fight, and per his client, you can take that offer and shove it up your ass.”
Brandon’s grip tightened around the steering wheel, and he bit his tongue before he cursed again. “Listen, they want a hostile takeover? They got it. I was trying not to be an asshole, but you can let them know I’m coming after every one of their shares. And since they want to make this difficult for me, I’ll hit them from all directions. I’ll have my guy contact their shareholders tomorrow to vote in a new board of directors. All their reports indicate that they have no idea what they’re doing.” Brandon took in a deep breath and sighed. “Hey, I have company, and I’m driving, but thanks, man. Appreciate the update.” He ended the call.
“Sorry about that. These guys have been working my patience for the longest.” Brandon looked over to see Jordan sending a text.
“It’s okay,” she said, putting her phone away. “So, you’re a bully, too, huh?”
“I’m not. That was just business. I’m more like a teddy bear, or a kitten everyone can’t help but love.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” Jordan quipped.
“I am. Careful, you’re already giving me all the signs of being sucked in by my charms, and I don’t know if I’m ready to catch you if you fall.”
“Oh, yeah, right. You are not even my type, Brandon Kuvat.”
He thought about her comment, and he wanted to believe her. She’d brushed off everything nice he’d attempted to do, but he had a feeling it was all a front. He’d been taking note of the simple things she must not have realized spoke volumes—like how she’d said she would have helped him if he’d asked her to accompany him to the hospital in the first place, the way she’d introduced him to her mother, and how she’d said she didn’t mind staying in a room full of strangers. All of that had been for him.
The valet took his car, and a woman in a pristine suit greeted them at the door, calling for the waiter on a small microphone attached to her collar. In seconds, an Italian waiter guided them to a window table overlooking the streets and nearby stores.
Jordan gripped the back of the chair, but Brandon covered her hand with his and peeled her fingers away. She stiffened as his other hand clasped her waist.
Inhaling, he grinned. Hmm . . . someone’s affected by my touch.