Chapter 11

Jordan slammed her laptop shut and drummed her fingers atop the MacBook.

Two.

That’s how many new potential Jilted candidates she’d come up with after six hours of Internet research. One was a beefcake from Miami, who, if Facebook could be believed, had four ex-fiancées. He was good-looking, definitely, but he also went by Flash. No last name. And he seemed to have an obsession with his own abs. Six-packs were always a bonus for reality TV, but for this type of show, it’d work much better if the guys at least pretended to have some humility. They already had a strike against them with the runaway-groom thing. A huge ego might be too hard of a sell.

The other candidate wasn’t much better. Jeff Marx from Philadelphia had a last name, so that was something, but he had six ex-fiancées. How was that even possible? There was something just not right about a guy who put an engagement ring on a half dozen different fingers. Even more damning, the guy had his own YouTube channel, where he liked to ramble on about the vixens who had proven unworthy of his love.

Frankly, it creeped her out.

Jordan glanced at the clock. Two P.M. Too early for wine, so she poured herself a glass of iced tea and picked up her cellphone to call one of her colleagues.

Dana Munos was another of Raven’s minions. She and Jordan weren’t besties or anything, but they got along, helped each other out when one had hit a wall. Jordan had so hit a wall.

“This is Dana.”

Jordan blinked a bit at the brusque greeting. Maybe she’d been in Lucky Hollow too long, because the quick impatience in Dana’s tone caught her off guard. She’d grown accustomed to the more friendly greetings of the people of Lucky Hollow, who called her dear and sweetheart and approached every conversation as though they had all the time in the world.

“Hey, Dana, it’s Jordan.”

“Hey! Sorry. The damn phone’s been ringing nonstop today; I’m not even looking at caller ID anymore. What’s up? You back in New York yet?”

“No, still in Montana. Which is actually why I’m calling. Got a sec for some advice?” Jordan said, taking her tea into the living room and plopping onto the couch.

“Sure,” Dana said, her voice curious. “Hit me.”

“So, this candidate I’m trying to recruit—”

“The hot firefighter.”

“Yup. He’s, um…not interested.”

“The good ones rarely are,” Dana said. “You know the rule. Always go with the candidate whose friend applied for him, not the guy who applied himself.”

“Yeah, well, that’s sort of the problem. This guy didn’t apply at all.”

“How’d you find him?”

“Google.”

“Nice.”

Was it? It felt a bit more like…stalking.

“At what point do I back off?” Jordan asked, pulling a throw pillow onto her stomach and tugging at a loose thread.

“Hmm. You’re sure he’s the right guy?”

“On paper, yes. And he’s got this…quality. A quiet reluctance that I think viewers are going to swoon over.”

There was a moment of silence. “Are you swooning over him?”

“Of course not,” Jordan scoffed. She and Dana weren’t nearly close enough for Jordan to confide her kinda-sorta crush on Luke. “And he hates me.”

“Nobody hates you. You’re too nice.”

“He called me a vulture in high heels,” Jordan blurted out. She hadn’t meant to say it, but it had been on her mind, and apparently she needed to tell someone.

“Ouch,” Dana said with a little laugh.

Yeah. Ouch. It had…well, it had hurt. Not only because the description was unflattering but because it had felt true.

Jordan didn’t want to be that woman. The one who was so focused on her own goals that she steamrolled right over other people’s wants.

But she didn’t want to give up either. Not just because of professional pride; her gut was telling her there was some sort of unfinished business here. That if she didn’t see this through, she’d always…wonder.

“What’s your deadline?” Dana asked.

“End of the month.”

“Three weeks. That’s workable. What about seducing him?”

“Dana!”

The other woman laughed. “Come on. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It would for me!”

Dana sighed. “Fine, okay. How’s the backup-candidate list?”

“Short and shrinking,” Jordan replied glumly. The list had only had six viable guys, and two of them had gotten back to her yesterday with thanks but no thanks.

“So tell Raven you’ll have to open it up to applications.”

Jordan groaned, and Dana made a sound of understanding. “I know, I get it. It means thousands of weirdos to weed through, but it does widen the pool.”

“Raven’s gonna be pissed.”

“Probably,” Dana agreed. “She’s been wanting to keep this whole thing under wraps so the other networks don’t know what we’re up to. Our sneak attack goes out the window once we do applications. But, Jordan, if your guy’s a no-go…”

“I’ll think about it,” Jordan said, pulling harder at the thread on the pillow. “Thanks for the help.”

“Anytime,” Dana said. “Call if you want to talk through anything else.”

“Definitely.”

They made small talk about the lingering New York humidity, about the wine bar that had opened up around the corner from the office, about the Lady Gaga concert at Madison Square Garden, then said their goodbyes.

Jordan hung up and waited for the pang of homesickness for New York.

It didn’t come.

She closed her eyes and, resting her head back against the cushion of the couch, let herself admit what she hadn’t been able to say aloud to Dana—or to anyone:

She wasn’t still in Lucky Hollow because she thought Luke was close to caving.

She was still here because she wanted to be—because for the first time in a long time, she felt…

Home.

The thought was terrifying.

Lucky Hollow had two grocery options. The first was the adorable little corner store in town that had exactly one brand of eggs, one type of butter, four cracker brands, six assorted cheeses, and so on.

Or there was the big box store. Nearly a forty-minute drive outside of town, but at the bar last night the women had assured Jordan that it was a necessary evil to stock up on staples.

She didn’t mind.

After her run-in with Luke, she needed a breather away from Lucky Hollow.

Away from Luke.

You’re little more than a vulture in high heels.

The memory stung.

She didn’t know exactly what she wanted Luke Elliott to think about her, but it wasn’t that.

Then again, she couldn’t really blame him. She’d invaded his hometown, for God’s sake. Infiltrated his group of friends, chatted with his sister, buddied up with his ex-fiancée—one of them, anyway.

Jordan blew out a breath as she dropped a bag of spinach into the cart, followed by a carton of mixed greens and baby carrots. She was in the dairy department, trying to do the math on which Greek yogurt special was a better deal, when she heard her name.

Jordan smiled when she saw Hailey Withers approaching. “Hey!”

The petite brunette was dressed in an adorable yellow sundress that flattered her generous curves.

Hailey ditched her basket and gestured forward for a hug. “Bring it in, Blondie.”

She glanced in Jordan’s cart as she pulled back. “Dang, no wonder you’re so skinny!” The woman picked up a package of quinoa and gave Jordan a look. “Really? Please don’t look in mine. Would you believe me if I lied and said that the Lucky Charms are for the kids and that I’d never eat the Kraft Mac and Cheese I’m planning to buy in bulk?”

“Don’t judge me too harshly,” Jordan said with a smile, gesturing at her mostly healthy cart. “I ran track in high school and college, and I guess I’m used to fueling my body accordingly.”

“Great, you eat vegetables and you’re a runner. You’ll understand if I decide to dislike you?” Hailey asked good-naturedly.

“Absolutely. If you ever see me running by your house, I give you my full blessing to throw tomatoes.”

“Rocks, Blondie. If I see you running, I’ll be throwing rocks. Have you been running since you moved here?”

Moved here.

She hadn’t moved here. She was just here for work….

“Not as much running as I’m used to,” Jordan replied, dragging her mind back to the conversation. “I tried running around outside the rental, but…not a lot of places to go.”

Hailey laughed. “No, not really. You can only loop around the bakery and Tucker’s so many times, right? You should take a run by the lake. That’s where the high school track team practices.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten there was a lake nearby.”

Hailey nodded. “Ten minutes or so from your place. I mean, it’s not a fancy path or anything, but it’s pretty in its way.”

“And it’s open to anyone?”

“Eh. Technically? Private property. But nobody minds. Here, give me your phone. I’ll text myself, and then later I’ll message you with the best place to park your car to get down to the trail.”

“That’d be great,” Jordan said, as she handed over her phone so Hailey could enter her info.

“Okay, I should get my junk-food-mobile out of here,” Hailey said, giving the phone back. “My mother in-law is with the littles today, but if I’m gone too long, she’ll start promising them ice cream for dinner, and I’ll be the bad mom who has to say no.”

“How old are they?”

“Beau is six, meaning he loves bugs and dirt and all the usual boy stuff. Ann is three and likes bugs and dirt even more than her brother does. They’re monsters, but they’re my monsters and all that.”

Jordan smiled. “I’ll let you get back to them. It was really nice seeing you!”

She meant it. Hailey was impossible not to like.

“Add some chocolate to this mess or I’ll have to break up with you,” Hailey said, waving her finger over Jordan’s cart as she started to move away. “Oh, hey, actually, speaking of chocolate…you have plans tomorrow?”

“Other than working on casting my net to catch Luke so I can drag him back to New York? Not really.”

Hailey laughed. “Bait him with Cool Ranch Doritos. He’s got a crazy weakness for them. But anyway, a bunch of us are meeting for book club tomorrow. You should join.”

“I’m a fast reader, but not sure I can read whatever the book for discussion is by tomorrow,” Jordan said regretfully.

Hailey waved her hand. “Nonsense. We hardly ever discuss the book. It’s more an excuse to get the guys to babysit while we all drink wine. Talk about boys.”

“Okay, then,” Jordan said. “I’d love to.”

“Perfect. Then you can tell us what you and Luke were fighting about at the bar.”

Jordan snorted. “I’ll give you three guesses, and you only need one.”

“Keep working on him,” Hailey said. “The guy needs someone to push his buttons, snap him out of his funk.”

“Can you please tell him that?”

“Oh, he quit listening to me a long time ago,” Hailey said.

“But he did once?” Jordan asked, a little puzzled.

Hailey didn’t reply; instead, she blew Jordan a kiss. “I’ll text you about the running-track and book-club deets. But only if you promise to add something non-organic to your cart, ’kay?”

Jordan waved goodbye to Hailey, then did an eenie-meenie with the Greek yogurt she’d been debating, going for the one with honey and almonds mixed in.

She was nearly to the checkout stand when she made a snap decision, backpedaling to the frozen section, where she stopped in front of the ice cream display.

Jordan hesitated only a second before reaching for a carton of chocolate peanut butter cup.

Then went to grab a bag of Doritos.

Just in case.