Midnight Kiss (15 page)

F
OR THE NEXT THREE DAYS
,
Jordan worked like a maniac.

But she also checked her phone obsessively.

Will never called.

Well, that’s good, isn’t it?
She asked her reflection in the gym mirror.
It’s exactly what you wanted.

The ache in her chest weighed a hundred pounds.

She felt like a kid who’d given away her favorite toy. She hadn’t understood how much Will had brightened her life until he was gone.

But she was the only one who understood that this could only end badly. She’d had no choice, once he started spouting foolishness about marriage, to end things before she inflicted damage he couldn’t bear.

Because for all his great strength, Will’s heart was soft and unprotected. She could live with most of what she’d done in her life, but she couldn’t live with knowing she’d damaged that beautiful heart of his.

She’d done the right thing, Jordan knew that. What she hadn’t counted on was how much she would hurt.

And the only person she wanted to turn to for comfort was the one she’d had to shove away.

Jordan ratcheted up the angle on the treadmill. She would get past this. She would sweat Will out of her
system. She would get back in fighting trim, be back out in the game any day.

Fiona stepped on the machine beside her. “Hi— Wow, what’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Jordan reached up, horrified to feel wet cheeks. “It’s nothing.”

“This is me, girlfriend. I can count the number of times I’ve seen you cry on one…actually, I’ve never seen you cry. What gives?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s that guy, isn’t it? Will?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, lordy.” Fiona hit the stop button on both machines, then grabbed Jordan’s arm. “Come on.”

Jordan shook her off. “I’m busy.”

“I don’t care.” Fiona practically dragged her off the treadmill. Once they were inside the locker room with no one around, Fiona faced her friend. “Spill.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Sure there’s not.” Fiona studied her. She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Shook her head. “It has to be love. Nothing else makes a person so miserable. So do I need to kick his ass?”

“No!” Jordan subsided immediately. “The fault isn’t his, it’s mine.” Misery swamped her, enough so she made a painful admission. “I’m not in love. I can’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll screw it up.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can’t make Will happy. He needs a Marly. He
deserves one, damn it. I can’t be like her.” Her chin jutted forward. “I don’t even want to.” But she knew she was lying. If she could be a Marly, she would.

“Has he asked you to?” Fiona sounded enraged. “Because I’ll march right over and read him the riot act. You’re just fine as you are.”

Jordan sagged. “That’s what he said.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“If you knew him, you wouldn’t ask. He’s this cheerful giant who works magic with wood, who deserves babies on his lap and gardens full of flowers and some little cottage with hand-braided rugs on the floor. That’s not me, Fee.”

She began to pace. “I’m a hard-nosed lawyer. I eat nails for breakfast. I party all night, and Will’s up with the sun. I like bad boys and loud music. He talks like a damn poet. He’s too patient, too cheerful. I’m bad-tempered and impatient, and I’m not going to change.”

“Honey—” There was laughter in Fiona’s voice. “That’s it?”

“It’s not a joke. Anyway, it’s over and just as well. We’re completely ill-suited. I wear Armani suits and he doesn’t even own a tie, I don’t think.”

“Ah, so you’re ashamed of him.”

“Of course not.” Jordan rounded on her. “I’m not a snob. I just…” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know how to fit him in, Fee. And I would screw it up, I know it. I’d feel like crap because he’s such a good man, but I’d still do it. Sooner or later, I’d get restless and want to be out all night, and he’d be making hot chocolate and just want to rub my feet or
something. He’d be miserable, and I’d never forgive my self.”

Fiona put her hands on Jordan’s shoulders. “My grandmother used to call what you’re doing borrowing trouble. Can’t you just see how this plays out before you declare it a disaster?”

“You don’t understand. He came to my house on Christmas Eve dressed up as Santa and brought me a jewelry box he’d made himself. It’s museum-quality stuff, Fee. And inside it was this necklace.” She brought the piece out from beneath her old T-shirt. She should have taken it off, given it back…but she just couldn’t.

Fiona touched it gingerly. “It’s exquisite.”

“He kissed me and made my toes curl. Made love to me until I lost my mind. But then he told his family he was going to marry me.”

“Well, then. He obviously deserves to be shot.”

“It’s not funny.”

Fiona rubbed her arm. “I can see that. What did you do?”

“I told him all the reasons why marriage is stupid. I mean, if even Marly and David can’t make it…”

“Are you kidding me? Jordan, you’re reading a lot into what Marly said. Marriage isn’t a cakewalk, no, but they’ll be just fine.”

“She’s not happy, and she’s the most content person I ever met—well, except for Will, maybe.”

Fiona shook her head. “She’s going through a stage. We all do. People do—not just married people.”

“But what if they can’t fix it? Marly’s ten times—a hundred times the woman I am.”

“Honey…” Fiona stroked Jordan’s hair. “You’re smarter than this. So have you seen Will since?”

“No.”

“Have you called him?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s over, the end. For once in my life, I’m trying to be noble. Leave this, Fee.”

“Just answer me one question first. How does he make you feel?”

Jordan sighed loudly. “He’s not just great in bed. It’s not just the sex this time. He makes me feel so…cherished, so…special.” Then she burst into tears again.

“And that’s bad because…?”

“I’ll ruin it. I won’t mean to, but somehow I will. I’m not good at this, and Will deserves someone amazing.” She shoved past her friend. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Hard as it may be to believe, I’m thinking of someone besides myself for a change.”

“Jordan,” Fiona said. “Don’t be an idiot. Don’t walk away because you’re scared.”

“Too late,” Jordan whispered as she gathered her things to go. “I already did.”

“Jordan…”

But she rushed out before Fiona could say more.

O
N
N
EW
Y
EAR’S
E
VE
at the Preston house, Will strummed his guitar dispiritedly out on the porch after just finishing a fast-moving set of Irish tunes he’d played for the assortment of guests.

The party resembled what people called ceilidh in his country—a gathering of friends and neighbors where music reigned, where everyone danced and brought food, where friendship and community was celebrated.

He’d never felt lonelier in his life.

Not that Jordan would fit in, he told himself. Oh, she cared enough about the Prestons that she’d pretend she was enjoying herself, but this was not her type of gathering. Most likely she was in some hot, crowded, smoky club right now, gyrating that beautiful body with one nameless man or another, teasing them, letting them put their hands on her, draw her close when they hadn’t the first notion of how to care for her—

He gripped the neck of his guitar, seized by an unbearable urge to smash it on the porch rail.

“Will?” A sweet voice from behind him.
Marly.

He exhaled. Eased his grip.

Jordan had said they were too different. Thought that she could simply walk away, that she could discard his love like it was nothing.

Then be damned to you, Jordan Parrish.

A small hand touched his shoulder, and he whirled on her.

Marly took a step back, and he was instantly ashamed. “I’m sorry.” He set down his guitar and held up his hands. “I truly am—I don’t—” Never in his life had he felt so out of control. So damned much pain.

Her eyes were soft and sympathetic as she approached him. “Are you all right? I saw you out here and you looked so…” She paused. “Is it Jordan?”

He looked away, unable to stem a bitter laugh. “’Tis my own fault.”

“Why?”

“I—There’s no point.”

“Will…”

He steeled himself against her pity. “It isn’t as though she didn’t warn me, the blasted fool woman.” His mouth twisted. “Though it’s me who’s the real fool.”

“Are you?”

He glanced back in surprise.

“She’s scared, Will, that’s all.”

“I know that, but—” Again he shook his head. “She’s also right. We’re nothing alike. She would hate my life.”

“Does she have to live it?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Does it have to be your way or hers?”

Will stared at Marly. “The life she’s living isn’t good for her.”

Marly’s head tilted. “So Jordan’s the one who has to change?”

He looked at Jordan’s friend, but he was really seeing Jordan herself, remembering how she’d focused so hard on turning the newel post. How proud she’d been. “She would be happier.”

But would she really? he asked himself for the first time. He thought about how little he’d questioned her about her work, how he didn’t really know what she liked about her career or even how she’d come to choose it.

And being with me would diminish you?
he’d asked, so certain that couldn’t be the case, that he was offering her something far better.

He considered his conversation with his da on Christmas.
Son, only make certain that you respect the differences between you. Our way does not have to be yours.

Hadn’t he said that very thing to his family again and again?
I can’t come back, Mum. I have a different life now.

Yet he’d recreated most of his past life here on for
eign shores, and he’d expected Jordan to fit into it. He’d told her he didn’t expect her to be a Marly, but he’d never considered accepting her lifestyle for himself.

“She likes some of it,” he defended himself. But how much of it would truly suit her? Was it only a changed Jordan he wanted? His own image of who she should be?

“What time is it?” he asked Marly.

“Just after ten-thirty.”

Thirty minutes to get to her place. Less than an hour after that it would be midnight, and she could be in any number of clubs. Austin was a big town with endless venues for entertainment.

He wanted to be with her when the year turned. Needed to start the new year fresh, to tell her he’d been wrong, to see if there was a second chance for them.

Before it was too late.

Before her midnight kiss was with someone else, someone wrong for her.

And you’ve been so right for her, my lad?

He would be. Of that he’d make certain.

But where would he find her? How could he locate her in time?

“I have to go.” He was desperate to find her before midnight. “Do you know her favorite clubs?” Shame on him that he didn’t.

All he’d done was ask her to give up her life.

Marly gave him two names. “They’re both close to her place. I’ll ask Fee and our kids. Someone may know others. But check your cell, since the noise will be deafening down there.”

He raced for the door, then abruptly stopped. Turned
and kissed Marly’s cheek. “Thank you. Wish me luck.”

“I do.”

“I’ll likely need it.”

She smiled. “That you will.”

He smiled back. “Whatever it takes, she’s worth it.”

T
HE MUSIC WAS HOT AND LOUD
, just the way Jordan liked it. The driving beat of the drums vibrated through her body, the wailing guitar notes sizzled up her spine. All around her, people were having a great time, anticipation high as the midnight hour approached.

A new year. Ergo, a new beginning.

Why did everyone always believe that?

Most people kept going in their same old tracks, year after year. Their lives were no different on January first than they’d been at the end of December. So what made them hope? Simple delusion?

Your brain, Jordan darlin’, is your worst enemy. Love isn’t reasonable or logical.

Jordan halted in place, buffeted around by bodies on all sides.

Just answer me one question first. How does he make you feel?
Fiona had asked.

Her so-called dance partner, a man she’d never seen before a few minutes ago, reached out to pull her close.

Jordan recoiled. When his grip tightened on her waist, she turned and used her elbow to get free.

“Hey! What the hell did you do that for?”

She could barely hear him and knew she couldn’t make clear what she didn’t know. All she was sure of
was that she wanted out of here. Now. She turned to leave.

“Hey, wait!” he yelled behind her, but Jordan pushed her way through the crowd, her agitation increasing with every step. Clawing her way out, she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

Finally, she made it to the edge, gasping for air, her heart pounding wildly.

A lanky, pony-tailed biker appeared before her, eyes bleary. “Whassa matter, babe? Your date play rough? You can come with me.”

She evaded his grasp. And tried to tamp down the thought that not long ago, she might have gone with him.

She had to get outside. Desperately. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe, she needed—

Jordan suddenly stopped, her mind catching up with the frenetic whirl she’d been in since Christmas.

Will.
She needed Will.

Outside the building, she leaned against the wall for a second, stunned. She could have been with Will tonight, but she’d closed the door on him at Christmas.

Because he’d said he loved her.

Because he wanted her to say goodbye to a life of easy conquests and meaningless encounters.

Because he’d asked her to belong to him.

But how could she be sure she could make him happy? Sure, she could try to change. And she would, for Will. But she was thirty-six years old, and people her age didn’t change, not really. There was a purity in his heart that she’d tarnish if she ever got too close. She’d accepted it long ago—born to be bad.