Midnight Kiss (Virgin River #12)(53)

“Has he asked you to?” Fiona sounded enraged. “Because I’ll march right over and read him the riot act. You’re just fine as you are.”

Jordan sagged. “That’s what he said.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“If you knew him, you wouldn’t ask. He’s this cheerful giant who works magic with wood, who deserves babies on his lap and gardens full of flowers and some little cottage with hand-braided rugs on the floor. That’s not me, Fee.”

She began to pace. “I’m a hard-nosed lawyer. I eat nails for breakfast. I party all night, and Will’s up with the sun. I like bad boys and loud music. He talks like a damn poet. He’s too patient, too cheerful. I’m bad-tempered and impatient, and I’m not going to change.”

“Honey—” There was laughter in Fiona’s voice. “That’s it?”

“It’s not a joke. Anyway, it’s over and just as well. We’re completely ill-suited. I wear Armani suits and he doesn’t even own a tie, I don’t think.”

“Ah, so you’re ashamed of him.”

“Of course not.” Jordan rounded on her. “I’m not a snob. I just…” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know how to fit him in, Fee. And I would screw it up, I know it. I’d feel like crap because he’s such a good man, but I’d still do it. Sooner or later, I’d get restless and want to be out all night, and he’d be making hot chocolate and just want to rub my feet or something. He’d be miserable, and I’d never forgive my self.”

Fiona put her hands on Jordan’s shoulders. “My grandmother used to call what you’re doing borrowing trouble. Can’t you just see how this plays out before you declare it a disaster?”

“You don’t understand. He came to my house on Christmas Eve dressed up as Santa and brought me a jewelry box he’d made himself. It’s museum-quality stuff, Fee. And inside it was this necklace.” She brought the piece out from beneath her old T-shirt. She should have taken it off, given it back…but she just couldn’t.

Fiona touched it gingerly. “It’s exquisite.”

“He kissed me and made my toes curl. Made love to me until I lost my mind. But then he told his family he was going to marry me.”

“Well, then. He obviously deserves to be shot.”

“It’s not funny.”

Fiona rubbed her arm. “I can see that. What did you do?”

“I told him all the reasons why marriage is stupid. I mean, if even Marly and David can’t make it…”

“Are you kidding me? Jordan, you’re reading a lot into what Marly said. Marriage isn’t a cakewalk, no, but they’ll be just fine.”

“She’s not happy, and she’s the most content person I ever met—well, except for Will, maybe.”

Fiona shook her head. “She’s going through a stage. We all do. People do—not just married people.”

“But what if they can’t fix it? Marly’s ten times—a hundred times the woman I am.”

“Honey…” Fiona stroked Jordan’s hair. “You’re smarter than this. So have you seen Will since?”

“No.”

“Have you called him?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s over, the end. For once in my life, I’m trying to be noble. Leave this, Fee.”

“Just answer me one question first. How does he make you feel?”

Jordan sighed loudly. “He’s not just great in bed. It’s not just the sex this time. He makes me feel so…cherished, so…special.” Then she burst into tears again.

“And that’s bad because…?”

“I’ll ruin it. I won’t mean to, but somehow I will. I’m not good at this, and Will deserves someone amazing.” She shoved past her friend. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Hard as it may be to believe, I’m thinking of someone besides myself for a change.”

“Jordan,” Fiona said. “Don’t be an idiot. Don’t walk away because you’re scared.”

“Too late,” Jordan whispered as she gathered her things to go. “I already did.”

“Jordan…”

But she rushed out before Fiona could say more.

ON NEW YEAR’S EVE at the Preston house, Will strummed his guitar dispiritedly out on the porch after just finishing a fast-moving set of Irish tunes he’d played for the assortment of guests.

The party resembled what people called ceilidh in his country—a gathering of friends and neighbors where music reigned, where everyone danced and brought food, where friendship and community was celebrated.

He’d never felt lonelier in his life.

Not that Jordan would fit in, he told himself. Oh, she cared enough about the Prestons that she’d pretend she was enjoying herself, but this was not her type of gathering. Most likely she was in some hot, crowded, smoky club right now, gyrating that beautiful body with one nameless man or another, teasing them, letting them put their hands on her, draw her close when they hadn’t the first notion of how to care for her—

He gripped the neck of his guitar, seized by an unbearable urge to smash it on the porch rail.