O Line (The New York Nighthawks 3) - Page 13

Although there were more than three hundred people at the gala, the food tasted every bit as good as what we served at Daniel. I could have happily eaten the chocolate soufflé and espresso ice cream every day for the rest of my life. But my opinion was probably influenced by the people who I shared the meal with.

Jordan played the role of my attentive boyfriend almost too well. By the time I took my last bite of dessert, I was half convinced that he wanted me as much as I did him. And his mom had mentioned how The Pierre would make an excellent wedding venue.

His parents had welcomed me with open arms, but the hints about wedding bells and babies that Francie kept dropping were starting to get to me. I heaved a deep sigh of relief when the auction that followed the dinner ended and Jordan led me out to the dance floor.

“Sorry about my mom,” he murmured, resting one of his hands on my hip while he used the other to press my palm against his chest. “I know I warned you that she might grill you about marriage and babies, but I probably should have called it an interrogation instead. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I underestimated how excited she would be tonight.”

I tilted my head back to peer up at him. “Exactly how long has it been since you brought a girlfriend home to meet her?”

“Never.”

His one-word response made me stumble, and I would have crashed to the floor if he hadn’t been holding me so closely.

“I know that sounds unbelievable since I’m twenty-eight, but I’ve never been serious enough about a woman for me to introduce her to my parents on purpose.”

My brows drew together. “But you brought me to the gala specifically because they’d be here.”

“Yes, but you’re different.”

“Oh, right,” I whispered. Because tonight wasn’t real. It was all make-believe, no matter how much I wished otherwise.

I turned my head away from Jordan and pressed my cheek against his chest so he couldn’t see how devastated I was by the reminder. Dancing so close to him didn’t help me keep a lid on my growing feelings, but I decided to make the most of tonight because it was the only one I’d get with him.

As we moved together, I enjoyed how feminine I felt in his arms. When he kissed my neck, I savored the thrill that raced down my spine. After only a few songs, I was practically panting in need.

Just as I was about to suggest that we take a break so I could pull myself together—and maybe pay a quick visit to the ladies' room to strip out of my drenched panties—a tall, thin man with dark, slicked-back hair stopped behind Jordan and tapped his shoulder. “May I cut in?”

Jordan turned toward the man, his fists clenched at his sides so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “Pardon me?”

The guy flashed him an insincere smirk. “I was hoping to steal this beautiful creature away for the next dance.”

Jordan shook his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Maybe we should let the lady decide,” the man suggested, turning his focus to me. “We haven’t met. I’m Chandler Arison.”

He looked at me expectantly as though his name should mean something to me. It took a moment before I realized why it sounded familiar. “Oh, yes. Your family owns my best friend’s favorite chain of grocery stores.”

“How wonderful.” He held his hand out. “Why don’t you tell me more about her while we dance?”

“I’m standing right here,” Jordan grunted.

“Yes, I had noticed.” Although Chandler was about half a foot shorter than Jordan, he somehow managed to look down his nose at him. “A man of your size is quite difficult to miss.”

Jordan stepped between us so that I was no longer in Chandler’s line of sight. The back of his tuxedo jacket pulled taut when he crossed his arms against his broad chest. “You have to know that trying to steal my woman out from under me is a bad idea.”

“Your woman?” Chandler scoffed. “I didn’t see a ring on her finger, so she’s not exactly yours, now is she?”

“She’s wearing a dress I picked out for her, my diamonds are on her ears and around her neck, it was my limousine that brought her here and is going to take her home, and it was my family’s table she was sitting at during dinner, where she and my mother talked about weddings and babies,” Jordan growled. “So yes, I would definitely say that she’s mine.”

“Well, I—

Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off when Jordan took a threatening step toward him. “I get why you’d be willing to risk an ass-kicking for a chance with her, but you’re too late. The game is already over, man. Walk away while you still can.”

Tags: Fiona Davenport The New York Nighthawks Romance
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