Sandy - Vested Interest - Page 16

I nodded in understanding. “As we got older, Max and I were the same. He worked so much he hated to leave the house when he had time off. He liked to hang around the house, take some time to write one of his books or a paper. I loved to travel, so we came up with a compromise. We’d stagger our vacations, and I would hang with him at the house for a week, then take a short trip with one of the grandkids or a friend. When he was working, I stayed busy with book clubs and different activities. We went on the occasional trip, but he loved resorts and I loved to explore. We took turns.”

“We both had great spouses.”

I smiled warmly at him. “We did.”

He cocked his head, studying me. “I think they’d be okay with us, out together tonight.”

I thought of Max. All the conversations we’d had over the course of his illness. He’d met Jordan a few times and always thought he was a nice man.

“Classy,” he said one day. “That man has class.”

My voice was low when I responded. “I think you’re right.”I was quiet on the drive home. Jordan seemed lost in thought as well but was still solicitous, opening my door, helping me into the passenger seat, making sure I was warm enough. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but contemplative.

When we arrived at the house, Jordan walked me to the door, waiting until I unlocked it. I suddenly felt nervous. Tense.

Jordan met my eyes, a look of understanding on his face. “I had a lovely evening, Sandy.” He gazed at me. “I would like to repeat it.”

“Another date?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like that.”

His eyes lit up. “Great.”

He leaned forward and my heartbeat skyrocketed. My shoulders stiffened, and I drew in a sharp breath. He turned his head and his warm lips brushed against my cheek, then he stepped back, his face inscrutable. “Sleep well, Sandy. I’ll see you at the office on Monday. But if it’s okay, maybe I’ll call tomorrow?”

I nodded, mumbling an agreement. His smile was gentle, and he stroked down my cheek with the backs of his knuckles.

“Good night.”

I stumbled inside, shutting the door and leaning against it, shocked at the disappointment that flooded my body. My reaction to his closeness wasn’t one of rejection, but one of anticipation.

I had wanted him to kiss me.

He thought I was saying no. And Jordan, being Jordan, accepted it with understanding and grace.

I spun around and flung open the door, prepared to hurry down the steps before he drove off.

Except he was standing where I left him. Waiting outside my door as if he couldn’t bear to leave. Our gazes locked and held.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he said. “But you didn’t want that. Did I ruin the evening with the comment about Anna and Max?”

“No. I love that we can talk about them.”

“But you didn’t want me to kiss you.” It was a statement this time, not a question.

“I did,” I replied. “I was just nervous and worried and—”

He didn’t let me finish. In one step, he was in front of me, his hands cupping my face, his fingers tender and warm against my skin. He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, across the bridge of my nose, nudging at it with his own as he discovered me with his lips. Then sweetly, gently, his mouth settled on mine, and he kissed me.

He slipped his hands down my arms, winding his arms around my waist as he pulled me close. I wrapped mine around his neck, holding tight. He was patient, kissing me through my tremors, waiting until I relaxed. Then his kiss deepened, his tongue sliding along my bottom lip, asking for entrance. He tasted like chocolate and cinnamon. His lips were soft, his tongue like velvet on mine. His arms became a warm sanctuary, his mouth worshiping mine with the most tender of possession. I felt his adoration in his kiss. The thrill of him raced through my body, sending shivers of pleasure over me, right down to my toes curling in delight and my fingers gripping his thick hair.

When he eased back, he dropped two light kisses to my mouth, then simply held me. I felt his rapid heartbeat, and I knew he could feel mine. Finally, he kissed my forehead and stepped away. I immediately missed his warmth. He smiled and drew a finger down my cheek.

“Thank you for a perfect evening, Sandy.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “I look forward to many more.”

I blinked, unable to form words.

“I’ll wait until I hear the door lock behind me.”

I stepped backward, our gaze never wavering as I shut the door, turning the lock.

His footsteps faded as he went down the stairs, and I flung open the door again. He turned to look over his shoulder.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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