Midnight Kiss (Virgin River #12)(55)

“Hey! What the hell did you do that for?”

She could barely hear him and knew she couldn’t make clear what she didn’t know. All she was sure of was that she wanted out of here. Now. She turned to leave.

“Hey, wait!” he yelled behind her, but Jordan pushed her way through the crowd, her agitation increasing with every step. Clawing her way out, she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

Finally, she made it to the edge, gasping for air, her heart pounding wildly.

A lanky, pony-tailed biker appeared before her, eyes bleary. “Whassa matter, babe? Your date play rough? You can come with me.”

She evaded his grasp. And tried to tamp down the thought that not long ago, she might have gone with him.

She had to get outside. Desperately. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe, she needed—

Jordan suddenly stopped, her mind catching up with the frenetic whirl she’d been in since Christmas.

Will. She needed Will.

Outside the building, she leaned against the wall for a second, stunned. She could have been with Will tonight, but she’d closed the door on him at Christmas.

Because he’d said he loved her.

Because he wanted her to say goodbye to a life of easy conquests and meaningless encounters.

Because he’d asked her to belong to him.

But how could she be sure she could make him happy? Sure, she could try to change. And she would, for Will. But she was thirty-six years old, and people her age didn’t change, not really. There was a purity in his heart that she’d tarnish if she ever got too close. She’d accepted it long ago—born to be bad.

So why didn’t she go back to that club and dance the night away?

Because, she realized, she’d be less alone all by herself.

How she wished Will was with her right now—she’d love to just hear his voice. She’d let him sweet-talk her with that damned silver tongue of his. If anyone she knew had kissed the Blarney Stone, it had to be Will Masterson.

He might be at Marly’s. She could try to call, but first she’d have to get where she could hear. Sixth Street was mayhem this close to midnight.

Her place was nearby. Jordan began running, darting through the crowd, skirting the drunks, avoiding the hands poised to grab.

Everyone wanted their midnight kiss. In years past, she’d shared many of them.

Every one meaningless.

Will, she thought. I want Will. If only she hadn’t been so blasted stubborn. No, she wasn’t right for him, maybe. And she didn’t know how to believe in love.

But oh, how he made her want to.

How does he make you feel?

Amazing, she thought. Special. Like he can’t see anything else when he’s with me.

I love you, Jordan.

Oh, God. What had she done?

“Hey, baby—” Someone reached for her.

Jordan shoved him away, kept moving.

An ugly name followed her, but she didn’t care.

Jordan sniffled, then realized her face was wet with tears. Damn him, damn him, damn him. What a way to start the new year, acting like some lovesick calf over a man who was her polar opposite, who didn’t even care enough to come after her.

She smacked headlong into someone. “Sorry—”

Hands grabbed her. She shoved back.

“Jordan, darlin, it’s me.”

Her head shot up. “Will? What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” But this was not the jovial Will she knew who stood in front of her now.

“Really? Why?”

He only stared at her for a long moment, then drew her off to the side. He said something but she couldn’t hear him.

“What?”

He glanced up impatiently, searching the crowded street. One big hand locked around her wrist, he towed her along carefully until they reached the side street.

Halfway down the block, she dug in her heels. “Stop. What’s wrong with you?”

He turned on her, his eyes anything but the cocky, cheerful ones she was used to.

“I should have listened to you.”

“To me?” She went very still as the meaning of his expression sank in. Here it comes. He doesn’t love me. I’ve finally realized I love him just as he’s accepted what I’ve been telling him about how wrong we are for each other. Panic skittered up her spine. “Will…”

“What do you like best about your work?”

“What?” She stared at him in confusion.

“Tell me why you became a lawyer.”

“Why?”

“I don’t really know you.”

Irritation stirred, and it felt much better than fear. “That never bothered you before.” She poked him in the chest with one finger. “I’ve said that again and again, haven’t I? But you keep telling me you understand me better than I do myself.” She stuck out her chin, waited for him to argue like always.

When he didn’t, that worried her like nothing else. Her heart plummeted. “I don’t want you to know all about me.” She stared at her feet. “You won’t want me then.” And she wouldn’t be able to bear it. She turned blindly to flee from the pain crowding her chest.

He grabbed her before she could escape. “What is it you want, Jordan? Answer me that.”

She didn’t know this Will. He looked so weary, so serious. She longed to stroke his face, to run her fingers through his hair. To turn him back into the arrogant, cheery giant.