Midnight Kiss (Virgin River #12)(39)

“And in the end? Where is this headed?” David inquired. “You know Jordan is violently opposed to the very idea of marriage.”

Will recoiled. “I’m not looking to marry the girl. Good God, man, I want peace in my life, a woman with whom to live in contentment. You’d never have a day of it with Jordan. It’s only that…” Will stared off into the distance. “I cannot leave her this way. She needs to know there are men who can be trusted. That she can allow herself to be soft. She’ll never be happy otherwise.”

“Well.” David shook his head. “You sure don’t lack ambition.” He clapped Will on the shoulder. “I admire you. I think.” He grinned. “Or perhaps I should have you committed. Not sure which.”

“Nor am I. Might keep the straitjacket handy. A bit more time with Jordan, and I may be ripe for it.”

On the other hand, he thought as he watched David leave, perhaps it’s time for a new tactic.

A slow smile spread over his features as an idea struck him.

What was it the Yanks were fond of saying? No guts, no glory?

ON SATURDAY MORNING, Jordan woke early, anticipating Will’s arrival. Though she told herself he deserved her bedhead and no shower, she found herself dressed and ready, coffee dripping into the pot by eight o’clock.

An hour later, still no Will.

“He said he wanted to take a look at that squeaky closet door,” she muttered. She contemplated going back to bed, but she wasn’t sleepy.

She spent another hour picking up and straightening the loft, though her cleaning service would be in on Monday.

At ten-thirty, she broke. Punched in the cell number she’d told him she didn’t want.

His phone rang and rang. At last he picked up. “Will Masterson.” His voice was distracted.

“Where are you?”

“Hmm—what?” Then his voice changed. “Why, darlin’ Jordan, are you awake, then?”

She almost hung up on him. “You said you wanted to look at my closet door. How was I supposed to sleep, knowing you’d be barging in at the crack of dawn?”

“I was busy.”

Busy with what? she wanted to ask but didn’t. Her heart squeezed a little, and anger stirred when she realized she’d already become accustomed to him being around nearly every day.

“I might be able to drop by later,” he offered.

“No need. The door doesn’t bother me.” So there. “Anyway, I have a full day.” Though, she realized, not one item on her list had much appeal.

Which terrified her. “So, just…have a good day.” She started to hang up.

“I was thinking,” he said in a casual tone, “that perhaps you might like to see my place.”

“Your place?” she echoed.

“Yes. I’m finishing a project. Since you have such a way with tools, perhaps you’d like to lend a hand.”

She could hear the smile in his voice and, curse him, that charmed her. “It’s not nice to mock other people.”

At last, that warm chuckle she’d come to depend on. “Oh, I wasn’t mocking, darlin’ Jordan. You do have a certain…manner with a tool in your hand.”

Normally, Jordan would assume a man saying that was talking dirty, but this was Will, and she could never quite be sure of anything where he was concerned. “So I could be like, your apprentice?”

“There is much I would be delighted to teach you. I’m certain I’ve made that clear, have I not?”

“You are talking dirty to me, in that roundabout Irish way of yours, aren’t you?”

“Me, darlin’ Jordan?” His voice was all innocence. “My sainted mother would faint to hear such a thing.” The smile in his tone grew more pronounced. “Perhaps you should come over and take my measure in person.”

“You make me crazy, you know that?” She couldn’t hold back her own laughter. This man—this impossibly aggravating and ornery and stubborn man—could make her, Jordan Parrish, giggle like the innocent girl she’d never been.

“Would that be a complaint, now?”

“What do you think?” She found herself grinning into the phone. “All right, all right, give me the address. Maybe I’ll drop by later,” she said, deliberately using his casual words.

“Come soon, Jordan.” His tone was husky.

She shivered a little in anticipation as she wrote down the address and ended the call.

For a few moments, she stared out the window at a crisp, cool day that somehow seemed a little brighter.

CHAPTER SEVEN

OF COURSE THE WOMAN would show up for manual labor wearing skinny jeans and a tank top that bared teasing glimpses of her smooth, taut belly, topped by some fuzzy sweater that probably cost the earth. On her feet were high-heeled ankle boots.

Will groaned silently. She would cost him his sanity, no question.

But, oh, she did look delectable.

“You live practically in the country,” she accused. She glanced around. “And your house is falling down.”

Will couldn’t help laughing. “Good afternoon to you, too.” Then, unable to resist, he swooped in and placed a kiss on that sulky, sexy mouth of hers.

Jordan sighed one breathy little moan, and it was all he could do not to snatch her up, bear her inside and lay her down on his bed.