Trouble

Jordan loosens an arm from around me and picks up the frame. “Abbi … she’s my real mom.”



I turn, surprised.



He meets my eyes. “She died giving birth to me. She had an undiagnosed heart condition, and her heart gave out during delivery. She died soon after I was born.”



My eyes fill with tears.



God, he’s known so much loss. He’s lost two mothers.



I reach up and touch his face. “I’m so sorry.”



He puts her picture down. “It’s okay. I never knew her. It makes it hard to hurt over her loss if you know what I mean. But my dad has told me everything about her growing up, and I have photographs.”



“So, the woman you call mom…?”



“Belle. She was my dad’s childhood sweetheart. They broke up when she left to go to college. That was when he met Abbi, and they had me. After Abbi died, dad was raising me alone, with the help of my grandpa as dad was already in the force at this point. Then Belle moved back home when I was about three or four. They ended up getting back together, and she raised me as her own.”



“They never wanted any kids together?” I ask.



A strange look crosses his face, like he’s never considered it before. His lip pushes out. “Nah, I guess not. They already had perfection in me, so what more could they want?”



I roll my eyes and laugh. “Right.”



Chuckling, he moves from behind me and gives my butt a pat. “Come on, let’s eat before my hard work goes cold.”



We sit down at the desk. Jordan gives me the chair and pulls over a stool for him to sit on. I tuck my legs underneath me. It’s a subconscious move on my part. Still covering up my scars, even though he knows they’re there and exactly how I got them.



Telling Jordan all about Oliver was like opening the door on a dark room and letting the light flood in.



It doesn’t fix things or change my memories, but knowing I have him to talk to makes it easier.



Picking up a pancake, I tear a piece off and put it in my mouth. I see Jordan’s eyes making work of me, especially the partial leg he can see. He looks like he’s remembering what we did half an hour ago. I give him a look.



“What?” he says, eyes wide with innocence. “It’s not my fault you look hot in my t-shirt. And you have great fuckin’ legs.”



A flush shimmers through my body. I can feel myself growing needy for his touch again.



I wonder if I’ll always feel like this about him.



I take another bite of pancake. Swallowing, I get an unexpected pain in my stomach. I grip my hand to my stomach. I know where this is from. I went a little rough on myself yesterday, and this is the first time I’m eating since.



Jordan notices. “Hey, you okay?” His brow furrows with concern.



“Yeah, fine.” I’m a little breathless as I ride out the pain. I put the pancake down. “Just women’s things.”



“Do I need to make the most of you while I can?”



I grin, the pain subsiding. “We’re good for a few more days, so feel free to take advantage whenever the mood takes.”



“Oh, I intend to.” He puts his pancake down and pats his lap.



“Now?” I bite my lip.



“Hmm.” He nods, that sexual shimmer in his eyes that he gets. The one that tells me he’s about to make my body feel amazing.



Getting off my chair, I straddle him, resting my arms on his shoulders and linking my hands behind his head. I can feel him already hard against me. “You’re insatiable.”



“Only for you, babe.” His hands go to my behind and his fingers trace a gentle line over my scars.



My body tenses, my muscles locking.



“Relax,” he soothes. “It’s just me.”



I nod my head, and try to relax.



Standing with me, he carries me to the bed, laying me down.



“You’re beautiful.” He drops a kiss to the base of my neck. “Every single part of you.” He moves down my body, laying on the bed beside me, and turns me to my side, facing me away from him. “Nothing about you is ruined…” His hand gently moves over my behind, down to my thigh. “Or broken, or marred…” He moves down, placing a kiss on my behind. “Just gorgeous, babe.”



Jordan moves up my body, curling his around mine with his chest to my back, hugging me to him.



“But nothing on the outside compares to what’s in here.” His voice comes in my ear, as his hand slips under the t-shirt. He presses his large hand between my breasts, covering my heart. “This is what I’m crazy about, what’s in here.”



My heart feels replete with him, ready to burst. Needing to be closer to him, I turn in his arms and bury my face in his neck, breathing him in.



I’ve never met anyone like Jordan. He’s a miracle to me. My miracle.



He’s like breathing fresh air for the very first time.



I realize that I didn’t start breathing until him.



I didn’t start living until him.



“I breathe you, Jordan,” I whisper against his skin.



He tilts his head back, eyes staring down into mine. “I breathe you too, babe.”



Chapter Nineteen



Jordan



Running back inside to answer the phone, I grab the receiver off the wall. “Golden Oaks,” I answer.



“Hey son, just checking in, seeing how you’re doing?”



“Hey Dad. All good here.” I hop up on the kitchen counter.



I can see Mia through the window with Dozer. She’s feeding him meat treats. Poor fucking dog is going out of his mind with that cast on, so we’ve been spending time with him.



In-between making out that is.



“How’s things?”



“Same.” I shrug, grabbing a nut out of the bag I opened earlier, I toss it my mouth.



“No other guests than our current one?”



“Nope.” I crunch. “The Perry’s are due later on today, though.” I lift my voice in optimism, hoping to pass some onto him.



“Christ, is it that time of year already?”



“Yep. I got their room all ready for them, so we’re good to go.”



Mia insisted on helping me prepare the room. It took a little longer than it usually takes me as we ended up having some fun which began with Mia getting down on her knees and taking my cock in her mouth, and ended with her legs wrapped around my waist, back pressed against the wall while I fucked her to orgasm.



“You’re a good son,” Dad says.



I shake my head.



No, Dad, I’m not, but I’m trying my hardest to be. And with Mia by my side, I think I can do it.



He lets out a sigh. “So we’ve definitely got no other bookings?” He checks this again as if I’m going to suddenly magic some up.



“No … I’m sorry, Dad.”



“It’s not your fault. Business will pick up soon, I’m sure of it.”



Always the optimist, my dad, but I hope for both our sakes that business does pick up.



“How’s Dozer doing?” he asks. “His leg healing okay?”



“Yeah, it’s healing fine, but he’s bored shitless not being able to go out for a run, so Mia’s currently keeping him entertained.” I look out the window at them again. Mia’s laying on the grass with Dozer standing over her, pinning her while he licks her face. She’s laughing, trying to push him off. The sight of them has me smiling.



“Mia – as in our hotel guest Mia – is keeping your dog entertained?” Dad says, wiping the smile from my face.



Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. He’s going to know something is going on between Mia and me now, but then he would have as soon as he got back home. I’m serious about her, so telling him now isn’t going to hurt anything I guess.



“Yes, Mia as in our hotel guest—”



“Is there anything I need to know?” he cuts me off before I get a chance to tell him about Mia and me. The ‘dad’ tone in his voice irritates me, so the immature side of me decides to play it out to annoy him.



“Like what?” I say with a casualness to my voice



“Like are you having sex with this girl?”



Okay. Straight to the point.



“Yeah…” I exhale. “I’m sleeping with her … but before you start kicking off, I want you to know this is different. She’s different.”



He’s silent a moment. “You’ve never told me that a girl is different before. Should I take this as a good sign?”



“Yeah.” I smile. “You should.”



“So you really like this girl, huh?”



Like, is the understatement of the century, but I’m not about to tell my dad that I’ve fallen in love with Mia.



Yeah, you heard me. I fucking love her.



I’ve never had feelings for a girl before, but the first time I do, I’m falling in love, and hard. I guess this is what happens to us men who don’t love easily. We love quicker and harder.



Now, I just need to find the nerve to tell Mia that, after just a little over a week of knowing her, I’m crazy in love with her. I’m hoping that when I do, I won’t sending her running for the hills. She can be skittish at times.



“Yeah, I really like her, Dad,” I reply, running a hand through my hair. “I didn’t intend to start anything with Mia. I meant what I said to you that time on the phone … but we just got close.” I smile at the thought of how good it feels to be close to her.



“She came here looking for her mother, and after she helped me with Dozer when he had his accident, I said I would help her try to find her mom, and we just ended up spending more and more time together. I got to know her really well, and she’s pretty fuckin’ amazing, Dad.”



“Sounds like you got it bad, boy.” He chuckles. “I’m looking forward to meeting this girl who’s managed to turn my horndog sons’ head.”



“Ha! Nice, Dad, real nice.” I laugh. “You’ll like her though. She’s smart, and real beautiful. She reminds me a bit of mom – tiny, blonde, has the tendency to speak without thinking. Actually, that reminds me. I’ve being meaning to ask you, have you ever heard of a woman called Anna Monroe who lived round here?”



It’s a fairly biggish town that we live in, so chances are he might not have, but in his old line of work, he tended to know everyone.



I get no reply.



“Dad? You still there?”



“Yeah. I’m here.” He’s a little short, and his voice sounds different … gruff, strained.



“Did you hear what I said? I asked you if you’d heard of a woman called Anna Monroe.” I’m pushing now because I know there’s something there. He knows something about Mia’s mom.



“Jesus Christ…” He sighs. “Jordan, I need you to do something for me. Do you have a photo of Mia that you can send to my cell?”



A hand comes around my throat. “Why?”



“Just do it!” he snaps.



My dad never raises his voice at me – never. Not even when I screwed up with the gambling did he once raise his voice at me. It’s just the type of dad he is – a reasoner, not a yeller.