The Naughty List Bundle - Kylie Adams [289]
After three encores she was finally left in peace.
For all of one minute.
She’d just stepped out of her high-heel sandals and started to relax when Jordan walked in without knocking. His gaze did the quick once-over, searing her from head to toes and everywhere in-between. Georgia glared at him. “What are you doing here?”
Despite his heated expression, his tone sounded mild enough. “I was already out.”
She didn’t buy it for a second. “Try again, Jordan.”
“All right.” He didn’t appear the least put off by her hostile attitude. But then, she’d already realized how pig-headed he could be in his determination. “I stopped by to see your mother. She had the kids in bed, so I missed visiting with them. We took tea in the patio room, and when she started yawning, I told she should turn in, too. Though she’s doing so much better, Sawyer says she should continue to get plenty of rest.”
His words were easy and rehearsed. But his gaze burned over her, lingering in places that always felt too sensitive whenever Jordan Sommerville was in the vicinity.
Realizing she still wore the stupid gloves, she jerked them off and stuffed them into her bag. Jordan leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched her every movement with an intensity that set her stomach to roiling. She couldn’t very well finish changing with him standing there.
“It’s rude to stare,” she grumbled.
“Honey, the whole point of that getup is to make men stare.”
She lost it, stepping forward and poking him hard in the chest. “Not you! Other men, okay, men who want to watch me dance, men who—”
Rubbing at his chest and frowning at the same time, Jordan interjected, “I came to watch you dance.”
“No, you came to watch everyone else watch me dance!” Her head pounded, keeping time with her heart. She felt ready to burst into tears, to scream. He and his family were so wonderful, so giving, they made her feel terrible in comparison. All her life she’d screwed up. Having Jordan around only emphasized that, and weakened her resolve to learn independence. But she needed to know she could protect her children now, and in the future.
“You,” she said in a tone nearing a snarl, “came to make sure no one did anything improper like speak to me.”
Jordan took his own step forward. “Are you telling me you want to converse with these yahoos?”
“I’m telling you it’s none of your damn business what I do!”
Jordan stalled, then in a voice as soft as warm velvet, he whispered, “I want it to be my business, though. Keeping my hands off you the past few weeks has been torture. Hell, Georgia…”
Her heart slammed into her ribs. He reached for her, touched her face with a gentleness she’d never known, and her knees went weak. “Jordan?”
Even to her own ears, his name sounded like a plea. The past few weeks had been hell, with the memory of his touch haunting her. She’d dreamed about that morning in the kitchen, and every night the dreams got hotter, more real.
Jordan cupped her jaw. “Don’t ask me to go away, sweetheart. And don’t ask me not to care.”
Georgia watched his eyes darken, now so close to her own since he loomed over her. She exhaled on a trembling sigh. “You’re making me crazy,” she admitted. “I don’t even know what I’m thinking or saying anymore.”
His gaze flickered, becoming more intimate, hotter. “I don’t mean to upset you.”
“I know that.” She almost laughed, it was so absurd. Jordan and his family had irrevocably changed her life—all for the better. Casey cut her grass, Gabe fixed her leaky pipes, they all doted on the children and on her mother. And on her.
But what if she came to depend on them, if she let her children start to love them, and then they went away? What would she do then? She’d be no better off, and she’d have the memories to torment her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but quickly opened them again when Jordan’s big thumb teased at the corner of her mouth. “Jordan,” she said, hoping to make him understand, “dancing on that stage is hard enough for me. Especially in this getup. I do what I