The reminder of tonight’s plans kills my arousal. “Dinner with my family.”
She sits up, suddenly awake and alert. “Your whole family?”
“Yes. If you’d rather not go—”
“I’ll go. It’s just, meeting the family is a big step.” She picks at the hem of the comforter.
“You’ve already met most of them.”
“True.” She chews her lip. “Hudson and Kingston will be there?”
I nod.
She seems to relax a little.
I check the time. The urgency to get moving pushes me out of bed. “Be ready to leave at six o’clock.”
“Yeah, okay.”
At a few minutes after six, I head to the kitchen and find Jordan waiting for me there. She’s leaning over the island, her chin in her hand, while she flips through a magazine.
Her hand freezes mid page-turn, and her gaze rises to mine. “He lives.”
I study her camel-colored slacks and the tight, black turtleneck that hugs her feminine curves. Her long hair falls around her face, and her eyes are a brighter gray with the addition of makeup.
“You look good.” The compliment doesn’t do justice to how she looks because she looks fantastic—but then, she always does. Dressed up or dirty, just looking at her does things to me.
“Well, I feel great.” Her high heels click on the floor as she comes closer to me.
Impatient, I grab for her before she’s close enough to me and send her stumbling into my chest. I kiss her lips, annoyed by the barrier of gloss that changes her taste.
She hums softly into the kiss, and her hands slip up my chest, over my shoulders, and down my biceps. “What is it about a man in a sweater?” Her eyes drop to the open collar of my oxford. “May I?”
I lift my chin by way of an answer.
Delicate fingertips brush against my throat and slip between my skin and the fabric as she makes an adjustment. My neck warms at the contact, and I only hope that the heat doesn’t show up on my cheeks.
With a final tap, she backs away. “Perfection.”
I was thinking the same about her. “You ready to go?”
She snags a small clutch off the counter and black peacoat from the back of a chair. “Let’s do this.”
I lead us out to the elevator, and I feel her eyes on me from the opposite side of the carriage as we descend.
“You have a question. Ask it already.”
“I’m just wondering, how are we playing this? Does your family know we’re living together?”
“Not all of them.”
“Are they going to be surprised to see me with you tonight?”
“Probably.” The elevator pings, and the doors slide open, getting my attention, so I’m caught by surprise when she slips her hand against my bicep and holds on.
I stare at where her sage green polished nails lay against my sweater and settle into the feeling of being with her like this publicly. A woman who’s choosing to be with me, not paid to. She keeps pace with me as we move through the lobby, and the doorman smiles warmly at her.
“What did I tell you about that Cardinals game, Aaron?” she says.
“They got lucky, Ms. Jordan.”
“We’ll see,” she calls out over her shoulder.
“Mr. North. Ms. Wilder.” James greets us with an open door into the back of a black Escalade.
“What up, J-man?” Jordan says and slips into the back.
I stop shy of getting in and look at my driver. “J-man?”
“Sir.” He lowers his gaze. “She insists.”
Of course, she does.
The moment the car starts moving, she turns to me with that inquisitive look in her eyes. “Your dad is August. Your mom—”
“Stepmom.”
“Stepmom, right. Her name is?”
“Leslie.”
“Got it. And your brothers are Hayes, Hudson, and Kingston. Is there anything else I need to know?”
“Leslie is the twins’ biological mom. Kingston’s mom is a model and lives with her husband in London. Kingston is younger than the twins, so it’s no secret that August can’t keep his dick in his pants to save his life.”
“And you? What about your mom?”
“My mom is out of the picture,” I say, keeping my eyes forward.
“Do you stay in contact—”
“She’s out of the picture.” I grind my molars, internally daring her to ask me again.
She holds up her hands in surrender. “Ten-four, Grizzly.”
Family dinners are always a disaster. We had to stop having them in restaurants because we couldn’t get through an hour without someone picking a fight. Usually, it’s August, after too many drinks. He zeroes in on one of us and doesn’t let up until we crack. I’m the easiest target. Always have been. I hope like hell that having Jordan with me will force him to pick on someone else tonight. There’s a good chance he’ll be so concerned with using his well-honed charm on her that he’ll forget for the night that I exist.
All too soon, we pull up to the Park Avenue building. She takes my arm again, and I guide her through the doors and lobby and to the elevator.
“Another penthouse,” she says dryly. “Why am I not surprised?”
I forget what a shock our lifestyle must be to those who don’t live the same way we do. I don’t sense she’s even the slightest bit impressed. She sounds more disappointed than anything.
Welcome to my world—where one wants for nothing and is still miserable.
Jordan
I can hear the murmuring of deep voices before we make it to the door, and nerves grip my stomach. I’m grateful to be holding on to Alexander because I can hide my shaking hands.
He changed the moment we left his house. He’s cautious, distant, and more short-tempered than usual.
He doesn’t bother knocking. He simply opens the door that leads into a cavernous modern living space similar to his own. Large glass doors at the far end are open to a patio, where people are gathered around a gas fire pit. My grip on Alexander tightens as we make our way past the kitchen, where three people dressed in all black seem busy preparing food.
As we approach, the voices fade, and when we’re finally standing at the edge of the fire, everyone is silent.
Kingston is the first to stand. “Jordan, you look stunning.” He leans in and presses his lips to my cheek. As always, he smells amazing and allows his lips to linger a second too long. “I hope he appreciates all my hard work,” he whispers for only me to hear.
“Nice to see you again.” I turn, just as a man who could be a doppelganger for Pierce Brosnan rises to his feet. A petite blonde woman who looks much younger than him follows his lead.
“Isn’t this a surprise.” He looks at Alexander, then back at me. “You’re the woman Hayes has told me so much about.” He holds his hand out, and a gaudy gold ring, dripping in diamonds, nearly blinds me. “August North.”
“It’s good to meet you.” I offer my hand for a shake, but he brings my knuckles up for a wet kiss. I pull my hand away and discreetly wipe it against Alexander’s sweater. “And don’t believe a single word Hayes says about me.”