Читать книгу A Mistletoe Affair - Farrah Rochon - Страница 10

Chapter 2

“Don’t be an idiot,” Vicki murmured around the piece of twine she’d stuck between her lips. “You know better than this.”

Even though she did know better than to try to balance on the wobbly, backless stool, she remained standing on it. If she fell and broke her tailbone it would be sufficient punishment for forgetting to bring the stepladder she’d taken from the Victorian to hang the new artwork in her living room at home. As far as punishments went, maybe a broken tailbone was a bit harsh.

“But you don’t have to worry about that,” she said as she tied that last bit of twine around the garland, fastening it to the molding that framed the front door. She hopped off the stool and slipped back into her heels. Then she took a couple of steps back and observed her handiwork.

“Perfect,” Vicki said.

“I’d say so.”

Vicki whipped around, spotting Jordan Woolcott walking up the walkway. Sixteen-month-old Mason toddled alongside him on legs that still didn’t quite have that whole walking thing down yet. Vicki smiled as the chubby-cheeked sweetheart fought for his independence, trying to walk ahead of his father.

She stood on the top step and waited patiently while he slowly climbed up to meet her. She scooped Mason into her arms, plopping a kiss on his too-adorable-than-it-had-a-right-to-be face.

“How’re you doing today? You and your daddy coming to see your auntie Sandra?” She looked up at Jordan, who remained at the base of the porch steps, a tired smile tilting up the corners of his lips.

“Hello, Jordan,” she said.

“Hey there, Vicki.”

There went her idiot heart, doing that stupid fluttering thing it did whenever she saw him. Goodness, how pathetic that at twenty-eight she still had the same reaction to him that she did as a teenager. No, it was more than just pathetic, it was downright pitiful, because never once had anything in Jordan’s demeanor suggested that he felt anything even remotely similar toward her.

Yet when she’d sat in that salon chair last week and told the stylist to glam her up, it was with the intent of seeing Jordan’s reaction to the finished outcome.

Pathetic.

If the man hadn’t caught a clue in all these years, he certainly wouldn’t notice her just because she’d cut her hair.

“Is my sister up there?” he asked, gesturing to the building’s second floor with the hand that held Mason’s diaper bag.

“She sure is.” Vicki looked down at Mason. “You want to get out of this cold and see your auntie Sandra?”

Jordan joined them on the porch, but before Vicki could turn toward the door, he stopped her.

“What exactly did you do here?” he asked, motioning at his own head.

“You mean my haircut?”

“Yeah. The light brown color you added to the ends, too.”

“They’re called highlights.”

He nodded. “I like it. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” she answered.

She was not going to blush at a simple compliment.

Dammit, she was so blushing. She could feel the heat climbing up her cheeks. Her fair skin hid nothing, so in a matter of seconds Jordan would see it, too.

With Mason in tow, Vicki quickly turned for the door, leaving him to follow her inside.

“Wow,” Jordan said once they’d entered the building. “You all are really getting into the holiday spirit, huh? There are more flowers in here than at the Rose Bowl parade.”

“Well, it is a floral-design shop,” Vicki noted with a laugh.

“A busy one at that,” Jordan said, pointing to various arrangements in different stages of completion. They covered every available surface.

“When it comes to flowers, the Christmas season is second only to Valentine’s Day. Although, to be honest, I’ve been a bit busier than usual this week.”

Jordan peeled Mason’s puffer jacket off while the baby was still in her arms, and then stuffed it inside the diaper bag.

He gestured to her feet. “You don’t normally wear fancy shoes to make flower arrangements, do you? Is this something special you’re doing for the holidays?”

Vicki’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to be funny?”

The blank look on his face gave her his answer even before he said, “No.”

“I’m wearing fancy shoes because I have a date,” she said.

“Really?” Jordan’s head reared back slightly. He took Mason from her arms and the baby immediately started to fuss. “A date?”

Vicki couldn’t see past her irritation over Jordan’s apparent surprise at the news that she had a date. It both stung and pissed her off.

“Is it so hard to believe that someone actually wants to go out with me?” she asked.

“No,” he said with a hasty head shake. “It’s just that I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”

Not that that should come as a surprise, either. When had he ever taken interest in whom she was dating?

Vicki held no illusions about where she stood as far as he was concerned. She had never been in Jordan Woolcott’s league. For that matter, she had not always been in Sandra and Janelle’s league, either.

Unlike her two best friends, Vicki hadn’t been born into money.

She and her three brothers had spent the majority of their formative years in the public school system, not moving to Wintersage Academy until her sophomore year of high school, once her father’s business had taken off.

Ahlfors Financial Management’s success secured her family’s place among Wintersage’s elite, but their wealth didn’t reek of “old money” like that of the Howertons and Woolcotts. Although her friends never made her feel inferior, Vicki never let herself forget that one difference between them.

When it came to Jordan, there was no denying that they were different.

He had been several years ahead of her in high school, having already graduated from Wintersage Academy by the time she’d started there. Vicki had developed the most ridiculous crush on him from the very first day she’d gone over to the Woolcotts’ to study with Sandra one afternoon. It had taken her years to accept the fact that, if not for her being one of Sandra’s very best friends and their families knowing each other for years, Jordan wouldn’t know she existed.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Wintersage was a small town. He would know she existed—in the same way he knew Jocelyn Cornwell, who ran the realty office on Main Street, or Agnes Ripple, the owner of the corner bakery, existed.

That thought annoyed her to no end. And when she thought of how long she’d pined over Jordan, it irritated her even more.

Vicki returned to her worktable, picking up the stem cutters and attacking the stubborn stalks of the lilies that had just been delivered by one of her suppliers. But as Mason’s crying intensified, she walked to where Jordan stood struggling to get the baby to calm down. The minute she lifted him out of Jordan’s arms, Mason’s cries quieted. Vicki bounced him softly, running her hand up and down the baby’s back and whispering soothingly into his ear.

“I don’t know what’s going on with him today,” Jordan said. “I usually don’t have a problem getting him to calm down, but he’s been more agitated than usual.”

“Maybe he can sense that you’re—” she started, but then she stopped.

“I’m what?”

Vicki bit her bottom lip, but then she stopped that, too. The old Vicki would keep her mouth shut to spare his feelings. She was no longer listening to the old Vicki.

“Uptight,” she finished. “You’ve been rather uptight lately, and I think Mason can sense that.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “You’re probably right.”

The sheer exhaustion on his face quelled the ire that had risen within her just moments ago. Vicki couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

Jordan cocked his head to the side and looked down at his son. “The problem is I can’t seem to unwind because he constantly has me on the go. I get agitated, and then he gets agitated. It’s a vicious cycle.”

“You need some rest, Jordan.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. But I don’t see rest anywhere in my immediate future, not with this little rascal who wants to get into everything these days,” he said, pinching the baby’s chubby leg through his cute corduroy pants.

Vicki took a moment to consider the suggestion she was about to make before she asked, “How about I watch Mason for you so you can get some rest?”

Jordan’s neck stiffened with shock. “Really?”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

That was what his mouth said; the naked hope in his eyes, on the other hand, said that he was dying for a little help with the baby.

“It’s not as if it would be a hardship,” Vicki reasoned. “How could I pass up the opportunity to spend time with this little heartbreaker?” She kissed the baby’s chin. “And while I do, you can get some much-needed rest.”

Jordan’s shoulders sank with relief. “God, Vicki, that would be wonderful.”

“I’m happy to do it. Just not tonight,” she said.

“Yeah. You have a date,” Jordan said. He lifted Mason from her arms but remained standing there, his gaze trained on her.

“What?” Vicki asked. After several moments of his staring, her self-consciousness ramped up to skin-tingling levels.

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Nothing.” He gestured toward the staircase. “We’ll go up to Sandra’s.”

“Okay.” She leaned forward and gave Mason a little baby wave. “See you later.”

“When?”

Vicki’s head popped up at Jordan’s question. “Excuse me?”

“When will you see us?” He shook his head. “Him? Mason. To babysit?”

She hadn’t thought that far in advance, but it was obvious Jordan needed to rest as soon as possible. “What about tomorrow, maybe around seven?”

“Tomorrow is good. It’s great, actually.”

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you both tomorrow, then.”

“Good.” He gave her another of those tired, grateful smiles before he started up the stairs. After he’d climbed a couple of steps, he stopped and turned. “Vicki?”

“Yes?” She felt her face heat after being caught still staring at him.

“You really do look nice,” Jordan said. “I hope this guy you’re going out with tonight realizes how lucky he is.”

The instant warmth that traveled across her skin from his simple compliment was embarrassing to say the least.

“Thank you,” Vicki said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She fingered the wispy end of a lock of hair and grinned as she returned to her workstation. Her stylist would get a very nice tip after her next haircut. Even though she no longer cared whether or not Jordan Woolcott noticed her, apparently the pixie cut had gotten her just the result she’d initially hoped for.

* * *

“Anybody home?” Jordan called as he arrived on the second-floor landing of the huge Victorian where his sister’s dress shop was located.

Sandra turned from the glittery ball gown she was adjusting on a mannequin and smiled.

“Well, look who’s here.” She walked over to them and reached for Mason. “Give me my nephew.”

Jordan handed the baby off and plopped into an empty chair. The exhaustion of the past week had him on the verge of both mental and physical collapse.

“So what brings you two here?” Sandra asked, taking the chair opposite his and bouncing Mason on her lap.

Jordan shrugged. “Just thought we’d get out for a bit. He doesn’t understand that it’s too cold for the beach or the park, so I’ve been taking him other places. We just came from the dry cleaners.”

“Such party animals,” Sandra said with a snort. She snapped her fingers. “I know exactly where you should take him—the children’s museum in Dover. I saw something on TV about a special exhibit they have going on for the Christmas season.”

Sandra turned the huge computer monitor around to face her and grabbed the wireless keyboard from her desk. As his sister searched the web, Jordan pitched his head back and let his eyes fall shut. He tried to shake off the edginess that had his skin tingly. The weird vibe had settled over him after his exchange with Vicki, and hell if he knew what to make of it.

She had popped up in his head more than once this week, creeping into his thoughts and setting off memories of how shocked he’d been when he’d noticed her standing on the beach at Sandra’s wedding. The new haircut and that curve-hugging dress had been something to behold.

Jordan couldn’t remember if he had ever once noticed what Vicki wore. Of course, he’d noticed her—no man could deny that Vicki was gorgeous in her own right. He just had never looked at her in that way.

She was just...just Vicki.

She was the quiet one; the one who, if Sandra or their other best friend, Janelle, ever got into trouble, would get them out of it. She was steady. Reserved. She wasn’t the type that normally produced the prickle of awareness that climbed up the back of his neck when he’d spotted her standing on the porch in sexy leopard-print heels.

“What do you think about that?” Sandra asked.

Jordan blinked. “Huh?”

His sister stabbed him with the most aggravated look. “Are you even listening to me? I just listed every special exhibit going on at the children’s museum in Dover. Or maybe there’s something in Portsmouth the two of you can do.”

“Maybe.” Jordan shrugged. “I need to find something to keep him occupied. It can get boring sitting around the house. Makes me wonder what Laurie does over there all day,” he said, speaking of his housekeeper.

Sandra started on the tirade Jordan knew was forthcoming. “Oh, let’s see. She takes care of your son, keeps the house impeccable and cooks dinner.”

“I meant besides all that,” Jordan said, his mouth tipped up in a smile.

He saw the moment that Sandra caught on to his teasing.

“You’re such an ass,” she said.

“Not true. You’re just an easy target,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I know exactly how indispensable Laurie is, especially now that she’s away on this extended Christmas vacation. I haven’t done the best job at keeping up the housework since, and when it comes to dinner Mason and I have tried just about every takeout place within twenty miles of Wintersage. He likes gyros. Who’d have thought?”

Sandra shook her head, a pitiable look on her face. “I’m almost tempted to tell you to hire a temporary nanny to cover for Laurie while she’s away, but that won’t solve your problem.”

“I don’t have a problem,” he said.

“You most definitely do have a problem. You have no life. And yes, I know you’ve been taking care of Mason full-time since the election ended, but that’s not the life you’re used to living. Maybe you should just go back to work. Maybe you’d be less irritable.”

Hadn’t Vicki just accused him of the same thing?

“Why does everyone think I’m irritable?” Jordan asked. “I’m just tired. Besides, I can’t go back to the firm. I took an extended leave, remember? I thought I would be working on Oliver’s transition team right now.”

Sandra rolled her eyes. The election was a sore subject for everyone in his family, especially his sister.

When he spoke, Jordan kept his voice low. “Hey, Sandra? The fallout from the election, it hasn’t caused any friction, has it? You know, between you three?”

“What do you think, Jordan? You accused my best friend’s father of trying to steal an election. Do you think things would be all sunshine and roses around here? The three of us decided that when it comes to the election we’re Switzerland, but things are still a bit awkward.”

“Switzerland?” he asked.

“Completely neutral.”

“Oh. Well, I wish I had that luxury.”

“You do.” Sandra reached over and clamped a hand on his forearm. “The election is over. You can accept the results and move on.”

Jordan shook his head. “I can’t. I know something—”

She lifted her hand and held it up, stopping him. “Switzerland. I don’t want to know.”

“That’s too bad,” Jordan said. “I’m pulling the ‘sibling in need of an ear’ card, because I need to talk this out with someone.”

Sandra blew out an aggravated breath. “What is it?”

“I heard from the election commissioner this morning. According to Massachusetts’s election laws, only the candidate can officially file for a recount, so they can’t go forward unless Oliver requests it.”

“Oliver has already conceded.”

“I know. I told him he was making a mistake, but he refused to listen to me. I just don’t understand how he can sit back and do nothing.”

“Maybe he wants to be gracious in his defeat and move on with his life,” Sandra said. “Just as you should move on.”

Jordan shut his eyes and pitched his head back again.

“I wish I could,” he said. He straightened in the chair and looked at Sandra. “Something fishy happened with that election. My polling data was solid.”

“Well, if the commissioner’s office refuses to go forward with a recount, none of that matters, does it? You need to just put this election behind you.”

Jordan pressed his palms together and tapped his fingers against his lips. “I hired my own investigators,” he finally admitted.

Sandra groaned. “Okay, Jordan, I’m just going to say it. This election has driven you right off the deep end.”

“I’m only doing what I think is right,” he said. “If I just rolled over and played dead the way Oliver has, then it’s like admitting that my polling was wrong, and I know it wasn’t.” He put both hands up. “If I don’t find anything before Darren takes office in January, then I’ll drop it. But until then, I’m going to search for the proof I know is out there.”

“Can we please stop talking about this election? You’re giving me a headache.”

“Fine,” Jordan said. He picked up what he could only assume was some kind of dressmaking thing from a nearby desk and twirled it around his finger. “Are you and Isaiah planning to hang around until after the Kwanzaa celebration?”

“Of course,” Sandra answered, balancing Mason on her lap while he bounced up and down. “This is Isaiah’s first Christmas in Wintersage in years. He wants to experience it all again—the big extravaganza and Christmas parade, and our family’s annual Kwanzaa celebration. We’ll likely spend Christmas Day shuttling between Mom and Dad’s and his parents’ place.” She glanced over at him. “What about you guys?”

Jordan shrugged. “We’ll be at Mom and Dad’s.”

“What about spending Christmas with his mom?” She nodded toward Mason. “Have you heard from Allison at all?”

“No,” Jordan said. “Subject closed.”

“Jordan—”

“Subject closed,” he repeated. He ran his hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to talk about Allison.”

“After I just had to listen to all that election crap?”

“Do you really want to use your ‘sibling in need of an ear’ card on talk about Allison?”

“Whatever,” Sandra said. “Why did you come over here in the first place if you don’t want to talk about anything but that election?”

“Maybe I wanted you to spend time with your nephew, but if you don’t want to we can leave.” Jordan made as if he was about to get up. His sister shot him an evil look.

“Sit down,” she said.

He grinned, knowing that would get under her skin. He took his seat, picked up the shiny tool again and resumed twirling it around his finger.

“Would you put down my eyelash curler?”

“Your what?”

She gestured to her eyes. “Eyelash curler. You know, to extend my lashes.”

Jordan tossed the thing on the desk as though it had suddenly caught fire. He blew out another weary breath and stretched his legs out in front of him.

Folding his hands over his stomach, he said, “I saw Vicki downstairs. She looks nice today.”

“She has a date.”

“Yeah, that’s what she told me. She offered to babysit Mason so I can get some rest.”

“I hope you took her up on her offer. You can use it. You look like a reject from The Walking Dead.”

“You do know how to flatter a guy,” Jordan said with a snort.

She sent him a saccharine smile. “I try.”

“So,” Jordan asked, picking up a pencil from Sandra’s desk and tapping it against his thigh. “Do you know the guy she’s going out with tonight?”

The moment the question left his mouth Jordan wanted to take it back. Why had he just asked that? Especially of Sandra.

His sister’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t met him,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“Forget it.”

Her brow arched. “No, why don’t you tell me, Jordan? Why the sudden interest in Vicki’s dating life?”

Just as he was about to tell Sandra to drop it, Mason threw his head back and started to wail. Not since his first moments of life in the delivery room had Jordan been so grateful to hear his baby boy cry.

* * *

“I hope your mother appreciates these,” Vicki said as she handed Samson Cornwell his credit card. “It’s sweet of you to buy her a dozen roses just because.”

“I thought it would be nice to brighten her day,” Samson said. “And you do such an amazing job, Vicki. These roses are just amazing.”

“I can’t really take the credit. I just arranged them. Mother Nature did the hard work.”

His roaring laugh echoed against the walls. The effort it took for Vicki not to roll her eyes was downright admirable.

“Did you have this sense of humor back in high school?” Samson asked, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Who knew you were so funny?”

Vicki hunched her shoulders in a “who knew?” gesture. She pushed the vase filled with blush-colored Antique Silk roses and baby’s breath toward him, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. He didn’t.

Sam rested an elbow on the counter and leaned in close. “When did you get interested in flowers?” he asked. “You know, I read somewhere that there are over twenty different species of roses. That’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“Try nearly two hundred,” Vicki said.

His eyes went wide. “Really? Two hundred? That’s amazing.”

She wondered if he would be offended if she threw a thesaurus in with his dozen roses. That was the fifth amazing since he’d walked through the door.

The phone rang. Vicki decided then and there to give whoever was on the other end of the line a free centerpiece for their holiday dinner table.

“I have to get this, Samson. Thanks again for utilizing Petals for your floral needs. I hope your mother enjoys her roses.”

“Oh, I know she will,” he said. He winked at her.

It took everything Vicki had in her not to groan. She answered the phone. “Petals.”

It was Declan. As she listened to his apology and explanations for canceling their date tonight, her spirits deflated. Well, there went her big plans. Maybe she should run outside and stop Samson before he drove away.

The door swung open and Samson rushed back in. She immediately regretted the thought she’d just had. She so was not going out with Samson Cornwell. She didn’t care how amazing a date with him would be.

“My wallet,” Samson said, retrieving it from where he’d left it on the counter.

Vicki walked him to the door, then turned and spotted Sandra, Jordan and Mason marching down the stairs.

Sandra pointed to the door as she reached the landing. “Let me guess, another new male customer who suddenly has a penchant for flowers?”

“Samson Cornwell,” Vicki said. “You remember him?”

Sandra pulled a face. “That fool who nearly blew up the chemistry lab at Wintersage Academy?”

“The very one.”

“Don’t tell me he asked you out.”

“I didn’t give him the chance,” Vicki said.

Jordan stood there with Mason, his gaze volleying back and forth between her to Sandra.

“The men of Wintersage have developed an amazing interest in flowers this week,” Sandra explained to him.

Vicki groaned. “Please don’t say the word amazing.” Sandra’s forehead dipped in question. “Don’t ask,” Vicki added.

“Anyway,” her friend said, turning once again to Jordan, “one came in yesterday and bought a bouquet for his dentist. His dentist. It’s ridiculous.”

“Petals appreciates it,” Vicki said. “Petals’s owner, however, is so over it.”

“Wait.” Sandra frowned. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have a date tonight?”

Vicki tried to keep the defeated sigh from escaping, but failed. “Declan had to cancel. He was called in to cover the E.R. Apparently they just got slammed with food poisoning from a birthday party.”

“Aw, honey, I’m sorry.”

“There’s always a next time,” she said, hunching her shoulders. She turned her attention to Jordan, who was now fighting to put Mason’s jacket on him, a battle he was clearly losing. Vicki bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. “Do you need some help?” she asked.

He held the jacket out to her and let out a relieved sigh. “Please.”

Instead of taking the jacket, she took Mason. The little boy leaned his head on her shoulder and stuffed his thumb between his lips, and Vicki’s heart instantly went the way of ice cream on a hot summer day.

Her heart did something all together different when she looked up again and found Jordan with his bottom lip between his teeth, concentrating hard as he threaded Mason’s chubby arms through his jacket sleeves. She absolutely hated that everything he did looked so damn sexy on Jordan. And that she couldn’t help but love it.

She suddenly discovered a bright spot to her canceled date.

“I’m free to babysit tonight,” she said to Jordan.

His head popped up. “You sure? What if your date manages to get away from the hospital after all?”

“From the way things sounded, that doesn’t seem likely. Besides, you look as if you can really use the rest.”

“I told him he looks like shit,” Sandra said.

Vicki covered Mason’s exposed ear. “Not in front of the baby,” she admonished.

“Don’t waste your time,” Jordan said. He hooked a thumb toward his sister. “I’ve already accepted that this one will teach my son every swearword there is by the time he turns three.”

“That’s what aunties are for,” Sandra said, giving the baby a kiss on the cheek before heading back up the staircase.

“So are you really up for babysitting tonight?” Jordan asked. “Because if you are I won’t turn you down. Sandra’s right, I do look like shi... Crap,” he finished.

“Saying crap isn’t much better,” Vicki said, unable to hide her grin. She jiggled Mason’s chubby cheek. “Just wait until his grandma Nancy hears those swearwords coming out of his mouth. Then both your daddy and Auntie Sandra will have some explaining to do.”

“Don’t remind me,” he said.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Vicki laughed. She turned her attention back to Mason. “What do you think of me coming over, huh? We can play games, or watch a movie, or even make a snowman while your daddy gets a little rest. What do you say about that?”

The little baby teeth that peeked out as his face broke into a smile was hands down the most adorable thing she’d seen in months.

“I think he’s okay with it,” Jordan said with a grin of his own.

Her reaction to that smile was wholly uncalled-for. Maybe if she refused to acknowledge the flutter that swept through her stomach, she could pretend it didn’t really happen. Because, seriously, how could a simple smile give her butterflies?

She could not wait until the day she was past this ridiculous infatuation—if she could ever move past it.

No. There was no if about it. When it came to her feelings for Jordan, the new Vicki was not going down the same road the old Vicki had traveled. She’d come to that decision after Sandra’s wedding. It was the reason she’d signed up on that dating website: she was done pining for Jordan Woolcott.

Yet she’d just agreed to babysit for him tonight. What in God’s name had convinced her to come up with that stellar suggestion?

She studied the look of exhaustion etched around his face and was reminded of just why she’d made the offer.

“Are you on your way home now?” Vicki asked.

“You done here?” he asked, gesturing to the refrigerated display case.

“Yep, Petals is closed for the day. I was supposed to be on a date, remember?” Vicki refused to read anything into the way his brows dipped at the reminder. “Just let me grab my purse and keys and I’ll follow you to your place.”

She retrieved her phone from the counter and sent Sandra a text message, letting her know she was leaving. When she went outside, Jordan was strapping Mason into his safety seat. A few minutes later, they were making their way along Seaside Drive, the stretch of highway that hugged the coastline that wrapped around Wintersage. Jordan lived on the opposite side of town, what locals called “below the bay.”

Jordan’s gray, single-story, shingle-style cottage, with its charming white shutters and walkway bordered by weather-beaten boulders from the shoreline, was, in Vicki’s opinion, one of the most charming homes in this section of Wintersage. Though modest for someone of Jordan’s means, it seemed to fit him perfectly.

He turned into his driveway and both doors of the double garage opened. Vicki pulled her car in alongside his. When she walked over to Jordan, he was holding a finger against his lips.

“He fell asleep on the drive over,” Jordan whispered.

“Ah.” Vicki nodded. She pointed to her car and mouthed, “Should I go?”

He hunched his shoulder. “I guess,” he whispered as he unstrapped Mason. He took great care in lifting the baby from the safety seat, huddling him close to his chest.

Vicki waved goodbye and started back for her car, but her feet stopped at the sound of Mason’s sudden wailing. She spun around and instantly took pity on Jordan’s pathetic expression. He looked on the verge of collapse.

“I guess I’m staying after all,” Vicki said, returning to Jordan’s side. She lifted Mason from his arms. “It’s okay, honey.” She patted his back as she followed Jordan up the garage’s steps and into the mudroom.

By the time they entered the house, Mason’s wail was down to a soft whimper. Vicki carried him through the short hallway that led into the kitchen, but stopped short as she passed the threshold.

The place was a mess.

Plush teddy bears and plastic toys littered the floor. There were newspapers and empty coffee mugs strewn about the table in the breakfast nook. Dirty dishes and at least a half dozen sippy cups filled the sink.

“Uh, excuse the mess,” Jordan said as he pushed aside an open box of animal crackers to make room on the counter for the baby bag he’d carried in from the car. He perched against the counter and folded his arms over his chest.

He looked from her to Mason and huffed out an exhausted laugh. “I don’t know what you do, but I wish you’d tell me,” he said. “I’m starting to believe you have some kind of magical powers when it comes to my son.”

“I already gave you my theory,” she said. “You’re agitated, and I think Mason can sense that.”

“I guess your theory makes more sense than magic. I have been wound pretty tight since the election results came in. I can’t seem to relax.”

“Have you tried?”

“Not really,” he said with another weary chuckle. “I’ve never been good at it. Always seems as if my time could be better spent doing something more productive.”

“Get some rest, Jordan. I’m sure some uninterrupted sleep will do you good.”

He walked over to them and smoothed a hand over Mason’s head. This brought him way too close to her for her peace of mind.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said.

“There’s no ‘maybe’ about it,” Vicki said, taking a step back to create some distance between them. “Put the election and everything else out of your head for a few hours and rest. This little one and I will be just fine.”

He came over to them again and pressed a kiss to Mason’s forehead. “Thanks again for doing this,” he said to her, his grateful though exhausted smile setting off all kinds of sinfully delicious tingles in her belly.

Goodness, but she was pitiful when it came to this man.

“If you need me, just come in and wake me,” he said before walking through the arched entryway that led to the rest of the house.

Vicki remained standing there until she heard the click of a door closing.

She looked down at Mason. “The new Vicki needs to remember what she said about not acting a fool for your dad.”

“Ball,” Mason said, pointing to a multicolored ball on the table.

Vicki picked up the ball, along with several other toys scattered along the kitchen counter, and brought Mason into the living room. Lifting an afghan with a seaside lighthouse pattern on it from the sofa, she spread it out on the hardwood floor and set Mason on it, then she plopped down next to him and rolled a plastic ball toward him.

After several minutes of playing with the ball, Mason’s mouth twisted in a frown. Seconds later, Vicki caught a whiff of something that made her stomach turn.

“Oh, you would do that after your daddy has gone to nap, wouldn’t you?”

She scooped the baby up and went in search of diaper-changing supplies. Vicki opened several doors, including a linen closet and what had to be Jordan’s home office, which was impeccable—a surprise—seeing as how the rest of the house was in shambles.

Finally, she came upon Mason’s brightly colored bedroom. Unfortunately, she didn’t find any diapers in there.

Vicki remembered the baby bag Jordan had brought in and returned to the kitchen where he’d left it on the counter. With the baby perched on her hip, she searched the bag but only came up with baby wipes and a small bottle of baby powder.

“Well, we’ll definitely need these, but we’re missing the most important thing.”

She hated to wake Jordan up so soon after he’d gone in for his nap, but if this diaper didn’t get changed soon the stench would probably wake him.

She went through the great room and down the hallway to the master bedroom. Tapping lightly on the door, she softly called, “Jordan?”

“Come in,” came a voice that was much too robust to come from someone who should have been asleep.

Vicki pushed her way through the door and frowned.

Jordan sat up with his back against the headboard, his stocking feet crossed at the ankles. An open laptop rested on his thighs and a pair of reading glasses was perched upon his nose. Make that an astonishingly sexy pair of reading glasses.

She tried to block the sexiness from her head, otherwise her impending lecture wouldn’t be nearly as effective as she needed it to be. She plopped a hand on the hip that didn’t have a twenty-two-pound toddler on it and narrowed her eyes at Jordan.

“Seriously?” she said, jutting her chin toward the laptop.

“Yeah, I know.” He grimaced. “I just needed to check one thing.”

“You’re supposed to be resting, Jordan, not working. Those are two very different concepts. It’s easy to tell them apart.”

He looked at her over the rim of his glasses and grinned. “Who knew Vicki Ahlfors was such a smart a—” He glanced at Mason. “Aleck,” he finished.

No, no, no. Her cheeks would not heat up at his teasing.

“No changing the subject,” she said, keeping her voice as firm as possible. “I didn’t volunteer to watch Mason so you can work.” The little boy shifted in her arms and Vicki caught another whiff of his aroma, reminding her of the reason she’d come in here in the first place. “Please tell me you have diapers,” she said.

“In there.” He pointed to the master bath.

Vicki cursed the deep flutter that traveled through her belly as she entered Jordan’s bathroom. There was something way too intimate about this. The discarded facecloth hanging on the rim of the sink, the bottle of multivitamins, the razor—not an electric one, a classic manual razor, the kind that required control and a steady hand.

She briefly shut her eyes against the image that tried to crop up in her head. Thinking about Jordan and his steady hands was bound to get her in trouble.

At the far end of the long vanity sat a stack of disposable diapers, along with more baby wipes, lotion and powder. She grabbed a plush towel from the wooden towel rack and gently laid Mason on top of it.

She’d just pulled off his pants when she heard Jordan say, “I can do that.”

Vicki’s back stiffened. She’d been so busy with Mason that she hadn’t heard him approach.

“I’ve got it,” she called over her shoulder.

The tingle that raced down her spine was completely inappropriate, but wholly expected. Those tingles were par for the course when it came to being in close proximity to Jordan. The new Vicki was supposed to be done with those tingles, but apparently she hadn’t gotten the memo.

Standing watch just over her shoulder as she efficiently went about changing Mason’s diaper, Jordan said, “You handle that like a pro.”

“Changing a diaper?” she asked.

“Yeah, especially with the way that one squirms.”

As if on cue, Mason immediately started to writhe around on the vanity. Vicki caught his feet together in one hand and moved her hip to block him from rolling right off the counter.

“I see what you mean.” She leaned over and nibbled Mason’s chin. “But your cute little booty isn’t getting away from me.” She looked back at Jordan. “Goodness, is there anything more adorable than those two bottom teeth that peek out whenever he smiles?”

“Nothing I’ve found,” he said with a laugh.

He finally backed away, making it easier for Vicki to get her breathing under control. His nearness was pure torture on her new quest to not be affected by him.

He settled in the doorway and leaned a shoulder against the jamb. “How’d you learn to change a baby’s diaper?” Jordan asked. “You don’t have any kids of your own.”

Vicki snorted as she glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

“Damn. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did. I’m just impressed,” he continued. “It took me a while to get the hang of diaper changing.”

“I guess it’s instinctual for some,” she said. She gave the two pieces of tape a firm pat before pulling Mason’s corduroys up over his fresh diaper. “There you go, sweetie,” she said, tickling the baby’s belly. He giggled and treated her to that wide, sweet grin that was sure to break hearts.

“So did you reschedule your date with the doctor?” Jordan asked.

Vicki’s head jerked up. She met his eyes in the bathroom mirror.

“Uh...no,” she stammered, caught off guard by the subject change. “He was already at the hospital when he called earlier. He didn’t really have time to talk.”

“Oh. Well, maybe you two can find a time that works later this week.”

Hefting Mason into her arms, Vicki turned and faced him. “I doubt there will be any future dates with Declan.”

“Really?” Jordan’s brows rose. “So it wasn’t anything serious, whatever it is you had with the doctor?”

Should she tell him the truth, that before it was canceled, her date with Declan would have been her first in well over a year? And that the last date she went on—with the cousin of a friend of a friend—was so unremarkable that she couldn’t even remember the guy’s name?

Vicki considered it for a moment, but decided against mentioning it. She had no desire to be pitied, especially by Jordan.

Instead, she said, “It’s pretty obvious that Declan is too busy for even a casual relationship, let alone something more serious.”

Still leaning against the doorjamb, he crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. “And you’re opposed to casual?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m opposed to it. But it’s not what I want.” When it came to this particular issue, Vicki decided that being vague would do her no good. “I’ve done the casual-dating thing in the past. I’m ready for something more stable...something that has potential.”

She fought against the self-consciousness brought on by Jordan’s thoughtful, probing gaze.

Several long moments passed before he asked in a curious tone, “Does this have anything to do with Sandra and Janelle both getting married? Are you feeling left out?”

Vicki’s head reared back. Had he really just asked her that?

“You do realize how insulting that is, don’t you?”

He looked completely baffled. “Insulting?”

“Yes. Your question insinuates that I only want a serious relationship because my two best friends have recently found their soul mates. It’s insulting.”

He grimaced, bringing his hand up to massage the back of his neck. “Now that you put it that way...” When his eyes returned to hers, they were filled with contriteness. “I’m sorry if that offended you. I swear that wasn’t my intention.” He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “It’s just that the three of you have always done everything together. With Sandra getting married so soon after Janelle, it just seemed natural that you would be next.”

Vicki had to work hard not to release a deflated sigh. He was likely one of many who shared that same sentiment.

“It’s okay, Jordan. Both Janelle and Sandra would tell you that of the three of us, I’m the one who they both suspected would be the first to marry.” She gave him a wan smile. “Things don’t always turn out the way we expect.”

“Tell me about it,” he said with a gentle smile of his own. His gaze shifted to the little boy in her arms. “But sometimes those unexpected detours in life turn out to be the best thing to ever happen to you.”

The complete adoration in his eyes made her heart squeeze.

“A blessing in disguise,” Vicki said.

“Ball,” Mason said, pointing in the direction of the living room. “Ball, ball, ball.”

She laughed. “We were playing with the ball before the diaper change became mission number one.” She scooped up the towel she’d used to cushion Mason and tossed it on top of the overfilled clothes hamper before heading past Jordan on her way out of the bathroom. Her elbow brushed against his chest and a shudder went through her.

Pitiful!

“You are going to nap, right?” Vicki called over her shoulder. When he didn’t say anything, she turned and scowled. “Jordan,” she said in a warning tone.

“I will,” he said, following her out of the bathroom. “I just need to finish rerunning some polling data.”

“Seriously?” Vicki rolled her eyes. “You can’t keep going at this pace. This election is going to drive you crazy.”

“It already has.” He ran a hand down his face, the exhaustion in his eyes becoming more apparent with every second that passed. The man was dead on his feet.

“Maybe I’m missing something here, but if Oliver Windom can accept the election results, why can’t you? I don’t understand why you’re allowing this to consume you.”

“Because I messed up, and I can’t figure out what went wrong.” He shook his head. “I’ve been racking my brain, but nothing makes sense. It doesn’t matter how many angles I look at, I still don’t see how Darren pulled it off.” He pointed at the laptop. “According to my statistics, Oliver should have won.”

“Polling isn’t an exact science. No one really knows what happens when a person enters the ballot box except for that person.”

“I know there are margins of error, and I know that this race was close, but when I look at the districts that Oliver lost, it makes me even more convinced that there was some sort of tampering. Those were the ones that he should have won by the biggest margin.” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s the math nerd in me, but I just don’t see how I could have been so off with the data.”

His pained expression was full of anguish. “I wish I could let this go, Vicki. I’m not oblivious to the rift this has caused between my family and the Howertons, and to a certain extent your family, too. I truly hope that it hasn’t affected the relationship between you, Sandra and Janelle.”

“We’re Switzerland,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s what Sandra told me, but still, it can’t be easy.”

No, it wasn’t. There had been an underlying layer of tension around the Victorian since the end of the election. Yet as much as she wished Jordan would drop this, Vicki couldn’t help but be impressed by the way he’d held to his convictions, despite the enormous pressure he was obviously getting from all sides to let this go.

“I doubt anything is going to change with the numbers in the next couple of hours, so why don’t you put that stuff away and get some rest?”

“You’re right,” he said. He lifted the laptop from the bed and set it on the tufted ottoman in the sitting room area. He turned to her and held his hands up. “I promise that I’ll sleep this time.”

“Good,” she said with a firm nod. A blue-and-white pamphlet caught her eye as she passed the dresser on her way out of the room. “Do you work with Mass Mentors?” Vicki asked, referring to the mentorship program she’d been a supporter of for the past few years.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I’ve been helping out there.”

“It’s a great program. I’ve brought in several of the kids to intern at Petals. They go out on deliveries and a few are even starting to learn floral design.”

“I didn’t realize you were involved with the program,” he said. His voice softened with appreciation. “That’s wonderful, Vicki.”

Their gazes locked and held for several weighty moments. Jordan was the first to look away, picking up a pen from the lap desk on the bed and tossing it on the nightstand.

“Uh, we didn’t discuss any kind of payment for the babysitting. How much...” His words trailed off and his mouth dipped in a frown. Probably because of the daggers she was shooting at him right now with her stare. “What?” he asked.

“Are you deliberately trying to annoy me?” Vicki asked, making sure her displeasure came through her voice. “I volunteered to watch Mason out of friendship. Don’t you dare suggest paying me, Jordan.”

“Sorry.” He held his hands up in mock surrender once again. “It looks as if I’ve made a world championship sport out of offending you today.”