Brave the Heat (5 page)

Jordan was divorced and back in Old Brookfield to start over.

Maybe that was something they could do together.

* * *

Jordan’s first week at work had been busy, to say the least. At the moment the shop was empty, and the quiet was a welcome relief. Between weddings and graduation parties, they might have used up almost every flower in the state. Maddy had new deliveries coming in every day, and it didn’t look like business was going to slow down anytime soon. Luckily Jordan wasn’t there alone. The floral designer, Veronica, and her assistant, Cookie, ran the back room like the couple of pros they were. Jordan’s job was to handle the customers and keep the showroom area presentable.

At first the job was merely a way to pass the days and keep her mind focused, but she was quickly finding it was more than that. She really enjoyed working with the customers and being around the flowers. The offhanded comment Maddy had made about buying the store lingered in Jordan’s mind. Because they’d been so slammed, there had been more than one occasion when Veronica and Cookie were out on a job or buried in work in the back, leaving Jordan to handle any walk-in requests. It turned out she had a flair for floral design, and she enjoyed creating bouquets more than she had ever expected she would.
Who
knew? Certainly not her.

It was a good thing they’d been so busy because she barely had time to stare out the window and look for Gavin.

Barely.

When she asked for the job, she hadn’t realized she’d be able to see the firehouse and all of the comings and goings.

Nope. That was a lie.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d known damn well she’d be able to look over there any time she wanted. To get a glimpse of that tall, broad-shouldered frame and remember what it had been like to be held in those arms. After her marriage to Ted, Gavin’s tenderness had been even more evident. In hindsight, no one had ever made her feel as special and perfect as Gavin did. Hindsight was a cruel bitch. It made you realize you’d had something beautiful but pissed it away with childish impulsiveness and pride.

Jordan dusted off the display counter and shook her head at the stubbornness of her youth. Now, here she was, a grown woman with two small daughters, pining over her high school boyfriend and fantasizing about him like a silly girl.

It was a waste of time to keep thinking about a guy who obviously had zero interest in being around her. He knew she was in town, and she’d caught enough glimpses of him at the station to know that he was totally aware she worked nearby. But the guy had made himself scarce. When she ran into him at the market, he got out of there so fast that he practically left skid marks. Any notions Jordan had about a reunion with Gavin were quickly being squashed.

“I must have a screw loose,” she muttered under her breath. Satisfied the counter was clean, she squatted down and put the cleaning supplies away in the cabinet beneath the register. “Yup. There’s definitely something wrong with me.”

“Are you looking for confirmation on that?” Jordan’s heart lurched in her chest as Gavin’s familiar baritone filled the shop. “Or am I supposed to argue with you?”

She’d been so caught up in her own world that she hadn’t even heard the door open. Rising slowly to her feet, she clutched the edge of the counter and prayed that she would still be capable of speech. His handsome face came into view, those pale green eyes met hers, and a slow smile spread over his face. It set that swarm of butterflies loose in her belly. He looked as strong and sexy as ever, dressed in his blue uniform. The T-shirt with the white emblem molded over his sculpted torso like a second skin.

“Something tells me you would be more likely to confirm that statement than to argue with it.” Unsettled by his unexpected visit, Jordan adjusted the ceramic mug full of pens next to the register. Folding her hands on the glass counter, she forced herself to look him in the eyes again and stop being such a coward. Her voice remained surprisingly steady, but inside she was a quivering mess. “Can I help you with something?”

“Flowers,” he blurted out. Gavin stuck his hands in the pockets of his blue cargo shorts and shifted his weight. His six-foot-two-inch frame filled the space in the way that only he could. “It’s my mother’s birthday tomorrow and I want to get her some flowers. Since this is the only florist in town, I figure that you’re the only one who
can
help me.”

“The grocer has flowers,” Jordan said, tilting her chin and daring him to admit that perhaps he wasn’t merely here for a birthday gift. “If I’m not mistaken, they have a little display right by the registers. All kinds of assortments.”

“True.” His voice was soft but strong, and the sound of it tickled something inside of her. He took another step so he was only inches from the counter. It was close enough for Jordan to catch a whiff of that woodsy, soapy scent of his. “But they don’t have what I’m looking for.”

Silence, thick and full of unfulfilled desires, hung between them, and with each passing second, her heart picked up the pace. How could the sound of the man’s voice have a physical effect on her? Gavin was quiet, but an unmistakable strength lingered beneath the deep timbre. A tingling warmth simmered in her belly, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in years. She’d convinced herself she was no longer capable of feeling like this. Ted had reminded her time and again that she was a cold fish and terrible in bed, a woman incapable of orgasm or pleasure. Yet here she was, standing in the middle of the store, about ready to jump over the counter and accost Gavin.

How was it possible to still be insanely attracted to someone so many years later?

Say
something
.

“What exactly are you looking for?”

Her hands spread out on the smooth surface of the counter, the glass cool beneath her heated, sweaty palms. She found herself almost imperceptibly leaning closer to him. Meeting his challenge. For a split second, Jordan thought he might actually lean across the counter and kiss her.

“Roses,” he said abruptly, breaking the spell. Jordan blinked and immediately took a step away from the counter. “I know it’s been a while, but if you’ll recall, my mother loves roses. Yellow ones, if you don’t mind.”

The grin on Gavin’s face widened. It brought out that adorable dimple in his left cheek, the one that made him look like the little devil he could be.

“Yes, I remember just fine.” Jordan straightened her back and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “All of the roses we have available are right over here.”

That pesky chunk of hair never stayed in any ponytail she wore. It kept falling into her face, making her feel like a mess. As if she wasn’t flustered enough by Gavin’s visit, now she had to feel like a slob on top of everything else! She hurried out from behind the counter and strode directly over to the refrigerator that covered the entire right side of the store.

Jordan grabbed a pair of gloves from the hook on the wall and tugged them on without looking to see if he was following. She yanked open the large floor-to-ceiling door and shut her eyes when the cold air of the refrigerator hit her. It was a welcome relief for her overheated body. But was she all hot and bothered from embarrassment or lust?

It was probably both.

“Here you go,
Mr. McGuire
.” Holding the door open with her body, the cool glass pressing against her back, Jordan gestured to the flowers. She didn’t look at Gavin out of fear she’d lose her sense and jump him. “Take your pick.”

“Mr. McGuire?” Gavin’s deep voice drifted over her, and she didn’t have to look to her left to know that he’d moved in to stand beside her. The heat and presence of his body announced his arrival with tantalizing force and whispered over her bare arms in a seductive promise.

“Jordan?” His voice was gentle and pleading. The sound of it made all the tiny hairs on her arm stand at attention—or maybe it was the cold air from the fridge. “Look at me.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Jordan slowly turned her head. Nope. Definitely not because of the fridge.

She expected to find the same hard, unforgiving look she’d seen in his eyes ever since she got home. She didn’t. Her belly quivered—and not from the cold air. To her surprise, she saw empathy and maybe even a flicker of forgiveness. She stilled and studied him closely, worried that perhaps she was seeing what she wanted to see instead of what was really there.

When those intense green eyes peered at her from beneath thick, dark lashes, every coherent thought was driven from her mind. His mouth set in a firm line and the muscle in his jaw flickered. She was tall for a woman at five foot ten, but Gavin still managed to make her feel delicate and tiny, as opposed to tall and gangly. Around him, she felt womanly and sexy, a feeling she’d all but forgotten.

“I think we need to start over,” he rasped. “And I’m not only talking about today. We need a do-over.” His lips tilted. “Just like when we played kickball when we were kids, remember? A do-over.”

“That’s why I came back.” Jordan barely recognized the sound of her own voice. “To start over.” She was shaking now and that stupid hair fell into her face again. She swiped at it quickly with quivering fingers, but it refused to budge. Nervous, turned on, and totally unsure of herself, Jordan started babbling. “Me and my girls are getting a fresh start, and besides, my father’s ill, and I know my mother’s going to need help. I don’t think that—”

Her words were cut short when Gavin pushed the hair off her forehead and slowly tucked the wayward strand behind her ear. The sweet gesture totally disarmed her and wiped all the arguments from her head. How the hell could she ever have accused him of being like her father? Gavin was nothing like him or Ted. He was sweet, thoughtful, and protective—a far cry from her old man, to say nothing of the bastard she’d married.

Sweet Jesus, she’d screwed things up so badly. How on earth could they start over? She had no idea where or how to begin.

“Why did you leave like that, Jordan?” Gavin’s voice wavered and a shadow flickered across his face. “Can you at least tell me why you never called or told me where you were?”

A hundred different answers ran through her head.
My
father
hit
me. Suzanne said you were screwing Missy Oakland. I was angry and stubborn. I was scared
. All of those reasons and several more rose to the surface, but what was the point of rehashing the past?

“Does it matter?” she asked quietly.

“It matters to me.” His dark brows furrowed and that stubble-covered jaw clenched. “I’m nothing like your father.”

His words slammed into her, making her recall her terrible accusation. Regret filled Jordan in an instant and practically choked the air from her lungs.

“I know that,” she whispered. “And I’m so sorry I said that to you, Gavin. I was childish and angry and hurt and—”

“And stubborn,” Gavin interjected.

“Fine, and like always, I was stubborn. But, Gavin, too much time has passed.” Jordan sucked in a shaky breath. She held his heated stare, every fiber of her body coming to life as the pad of his fingers rasped over her flesh. Thinking was becoming increasingly challenging, and if he kept this up, she was going to jump his bones right here in the flowers. “It’s not only about me… My girls…”

“I know. I met them, and I have a feeling Lily, Grace, and I are gonna get along great. It’s
you
and
me
that I’m talking about. Please, Jordan.” The sound of her name on his lips was painfully sweet. Gavin inched closer while cradling her cheek. “Say yes,” he whispered. “Give
us
a do-over. I want to get to know you again. I’ve missed you. I miss my friend.”

She almost whimpered in agreement. God, how she’d missed him. She lay awake some nights with her eyes squeezed shut, trying to recall the feel of his hands on her, the deep lovely sound of his voice that surrounded her like a blanket, and the warm weight of his body against hers. Each year that passed made it harder to remember, but now here he stood, bringing all of those delicious memories to the surface.

He ran his thumb over her lower lip as his gaze skittered over her face. Jordan’s belly tightened in anticipation. He was going to kiss her. After all this time and all these years, it was really going to happen.

And she was going to let it.

Never mind that they were practically standing in a refrigerator or that they had about a hundred unspoken and unresolved issues between them. Gavin McGuire was going to kiss her, and the consequences could be damned.

Gavin leaned in and Jordan’s eyes fluttered closed as she waited for her fantasy to become reality.

“Hey, Jordan?” Cookie’s voice shot through the store and brought Jordan’s current reality screaming into focus. “Do you know what time the delivery is coming tomorrow morning? I think it’s usually at—”

Gavin swore and dropped his hand but didn’t take his eyes off Jordan’s.

“Oh man.” Cookie giggled from the doorway of the back room. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Cookie.” Jordan smiled at her and then turned back to the fridge, avoiding Gavin’s heated stare. “We were looking for some yellow roses.”