I knocked. “You okay in there?” I asked and the music shut off.

  There was a long pause, and then soft footsteps shuffled closer. The door swung open.

  Jordan blinked back at me, frowning. Even with the less-than-thrilled reception, my pulse quickened at the sight of her all fresh-faced with damp hair hanging over a white tank. “I’m fine. Why?”

  I averted my gaze, hoping to hide the fact that she screamed sex right now. And my body was happy to scream it right back. Behind her, the room was a mess of clothes strewn about. The sparse furniture had already been rearranged with the full bed shoved against the opposite wall.

  My brows rose. “Redecorating?”

  “Changing the vibe,” she said, turning back to her messy room. She left the door hanging open and I hovered, uncertain whether it was an invitation or just a slip on her part.

  “What’s wrong with the vibe?” I asked.

  “Nothing yet,” she said, scooping up a pile of T-shirts and dumping them into a dresser drawer. “But the next time you decide to have a party, I don’t want my walls vibrating …or thumping or whatever.” She shrugged and I stared at her, eyes narrowing as her meaning became clear.

  “Do you pre-judge everyone this quickly or is it just me?”

  She looked up and her jaw fell open a little. “What? No, I didn’t mean…” Her face flushed, contrasting with her blonde hair in a way that made my irritation harder to hang onto. “I didn’t mean it like that … I wasn’t going to ask you to change anything about your life so I was thinking I’d make it easier on me to … never mind.”

  Gone was the judgy city girl. In her place was a blushing, fumbling version that I wanted to kiss pretty damn bad all of a sudden.

  Instead, I folded my arms over my chest and smirked. “I told you before, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Oh, well, I didn’t know if that mattered or not for you when it came to…” she trailed off, reddening again.

  Oh, yeah, this was going to be fun. “If you wanted to know that bad, you should’ve just asked.” I took a step forward but Jordan shook her head.

  “It’s none of my business—”

  “Sex in general or sex with me?” Jordan glared and I laughed, enjoying the way she turned embarrassment into a death-stare competition. “I’m not going to bring girls over while you live here,” I added.

  “Well … you can,” she finally blurted.

  I took a step closer, watching her visibly tense at our closeness. “Thanks for the free pass. But I’d be an idiot when I’ve already got the hottest girl in the county sleeping across the hall.”

  Jordan’s chin went up. “I told you, I’m not looking for a hookup. I need a room while I do my job. That’s it.”

  “And I’m a redneck—not your type. I get it.” I threw up my hands in defense.

  “I never said that.”

  “Didn’t have to. Doesn’t matter,” I added before she could argue again. “I’m not trying to hook up.” Yet, I silently added. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

  I winked and Jordan looked less than impressed. She propped a hand on her hip. “And that’s how friends act down here? Flirting in each other’s bedrooms late at night with strangers?”

  “It’s not late,” I said and earned a tiny smile. “And if you told me something about yourself, you wouldn’t be a stranger.”

  She sighed, wisps of blonde hair sent flying as she huffed. “All right,” she said and I almost fell over. I hadn’t actually expected her to give in and warm up. In fact, I was all set to turn on my heel and leave it alone for the night. Quit while I was ahead or whatever Frank was always saying.

  Jordan sat on the edge of her bed and nodded at me. I slid to the floor right where I was, my back propped against her newly placed dresser. If it was conversation she wanted, it was best for me to keep out of reach.

  “What do you want to know?” she asked.

  “Well, I know your name’s Jordan DeWalter since you changed your mind on the paperwork,” I said. Jordan rolled her eyes and I knew why. I hadn’t asked for or needed a written lease but she’d insisted the moment I’d gotten home earlier. We’d argued over it for an hour. Unsurprisingly, she’d won and we’d both signed something she’d written up herself, complete with house rules.

  It had taken me all of five seconds to place her last name and even less time to realize I wasn’t going to ask about the possible relation until she willingly divulged. It made me wonder, though, if the DeWalter I knew over in Windsor had anything to do with the angry look Jordan wore whenever she mentioned people from a small town. If so, I couldn’t blame her.

  But I still wanted to know her. And here she was; apparently going to let me try.

  “Where’d you grow up?” I asked.

  “Connecticut. My dad was an IT guy for a government contractor after retiring from the Navy a few years back so he did a lot of work for the base nearby.”

  “Was?” I asked.

  Jordan’s expression immediately went blank and I regretted even asking, already knowing what was coming.

  “He died six months ago,” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “Leukemia.”

  “Shit, Jordan, I’m sorry.” I cussed myself for not recognizing the grief. She was disguising it as anger, but now that she’d told me, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t picked up on it before. It was that gooey center I’d suspected all along. Only, it wasn’t armored over because of an ex. She’d lost a parent.

  “It’s okay,” she said.

  “No, it’s not. When I said I wanted to know about you … I didn’t mean to pry.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I didn’t want to say it. The words always sounded like an invitation for pity. But I needed to even the playing field. “My parents died when I was a baby. I can’t remember them. Uncle Frank raised me as his own so I got a good deal, but I get it. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  I got to my feet, headed for the door—suddenly, mindless television didn’t sound so bad comparatively—but Jordan jumped up. Her hand closed over my wrist, and I turned back. “Don’t go,” she said.

  It wasn’t the words that froze me in place. It was the look in her eyes. Tears swam in her sapphire blues and behind them the wall came down just long enough for me to see the pain. The real Jordan—the one she was bent on covering up.

  “I’ve been a real bitch to you, and I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at me through thick lashes.

  I stared at her for a moment longer and then I let a smile form at the corners of my mouth. “I probably deserved it,” I said and earned a quiet laugh that ended abruptly.

  Her expression fell, her brows creasing in concern. “How did they die?”

  “Car accident. They’d gone out for a date night, the first they’d managed to schedule after having me, and a drunk driver sent them over the guard rail on a mountain road. They didn’t survive the fall.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said and her hand tightened on my wrist. I slipped it free and held it in mine.

  “Me too,” I said.

  Tension, thick as a humid August, hung between us. I didn’t dare move, not even to lean closer. I ached to kiss her, but I knew it’d be a mistake.

  Not yet, I told myself.

  Okay, maybe just a hug…

  My phone rang and I cursed out loud at the timing. Jordan smiled wryly and stepped away while I scowled at my caller ID and then pressed the phone to my ear as I answered. “Frank, this better be life or death.”

  On the other end of the line, Frank sighed. “Well, kid, it’s the second.”

  “What?” I asked, alarmed.

  Jordan stared at me, brows raised in question while Frank went on. “I had a chance to look at the Nissan and … well, tell Jordan I’m really sorry for her loss.”

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Uh-uh. You can be the messenger on this one,” I told Frank, and before he could argue, I held out the phone to Jordan.

  “What?” Jordan asked, biting her lip.

  I just shook my head and shoved the phone at her. “Frank for you,” I said simply.

  Jordan took the phone and I waited while she talked to Frank, mostly listening and murmuring, “I see” between long pauses.

  When she was done, she handed the phone back, and I tried to read her expression, but it was curiously blank.

  “Cars down here run a little cheaper,” I began. “If you want, I can check out the lemon lot over by my friend’s store—”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “No, thanks, I’ll—I’ll figure it out.”

  “You have that car a while?”

  Her smile wobbled. “My dad bought it for me.”

  I nodded, at a loss. For all her bravado and attitude, she looked damn fragile when she talked about her dad. They must’ve been close. I took a deep breath and hoped whatever truce we’d struck earlier still held. “You like burgers?”

  She blinked, the unexpected question no doubt distracting her from whatever trip down memory lane she’d been on. “Yeah.”

  “Good. I’m shit in the kitchen but I can man a grill.” I waved at her to join me as I headed for the hall. “Come on. I’ll let you make a side dish with vegetables in it or something.”

  I didn’t wait. I wanted to see if she followed. For a moment, I was the only one walking through the hallway and my chest tightened in worry that she’d called my bluff.

  But a second later, I heard her footsteps behind me.

  I exhaled, and went to fire up the grill.

  Over burgers and sweet potato fries, we ran the gamut of childhood memory highlights. It seemed like safe territory for both of us, and my stories of trying to pull one over on teachers made Jordan laugh. We ended up back in Jordan’s room while I hung a couple of her framed design pictures. When I finished, Jordan sat cross-legged on her bed and I lounged across from her, feet hanging sideways off the mattress, as I finished the remnants of the popcorn I’d made while Jordan had cleaned up from dinner earlier.

  Somewhere in the midst of it all, Jordan had thawed and opened up, joking and talking like we were just a guy and a girl hanging out. I tried not to look too damn pleased with myself over it.

  “Wait, you actually got pantsed in front of the entire basketball playoff crowd—willingly?” Jordan asked, disbelief clear.

  I topped her glass off with the last of the bottle of wine and handed it to her. I had cold beer in the fridge but damn if I was leaving this room for any reason right now. We were finally getting along.

  “A bet is a bet.” I shrugged.

  “That’s crazy,” she said.

  “If you want proof, ask anyone you meet on the street in Grayson,” I said. “Unfortunately, they’ll corroborate.”

  “I’m sure it’s something they’ll never forget.” Jordan laughed and raised her glass. “And that makes you the winner of the most embarrassing moment. I can’t top that.”

  “Let me guess, popular crowd? Never picked on?”

  “Ha. More like, my older brother would kick your ass if you tried,” she said. “He made sure none of the normal hazing took place.”

  “Sounds like a good deal.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Not when he also scares away all the boys.”

  “Ah. Double-edged sword. Summer used to say the same thing.”

  “You two are close,” she said, tilting her head in curiosity.

  It was a question I heard often. “Sibling close,” I agreed, with emphasis on the sibling part. “Frank and her dad, Dean, are buds from way back. She and I grew up together so we fought like cats and dogs but protected each other against anyone else. Us against the world, I guess.”

  “Sounds exactly like siblings,” she agreed.

  “What about you?” I asked. “Just one brother?”

  Jordan snorted. “One’s enough. But yes. Just us now. And my mom…” A shadow passed over Jordan’s face and I could guess where her thoughts were headed.

  “Do they ride dirt bikes in Connecticut?” I asked, changing the subject before the mood went dark again.

  “Uh, that’s a definite no,” she said.

  “So, tomorrow morning. You and me. Dirt bike ride.”

  “No way, speed racer. Not happening,” she said, leaning away as if to ward me off.

  “I won’t go fast,” I promised, already knowing full well I planned to break that promise straight off.

  “Don’t you have to work?”

  I shrugged. “I make my own hours, like you.”

  “Speaking of hours, I’m supposed to meet with Summer and finalize the blueprints for the house. We start on permits next week.”

  “Rain check then.”

  She nodded and I knew she was just humoring me as she echoed, “Rain check.”

  Our eyes met and held. Once again, her energy seemed to eclipse everything else in the room, including coherent thought. I found myself leaning closer before I’d even made the conscious decision. Just one more foot of space separating our mouths and—

  Jordan stood up abruptly, the mattress shifting underneath me, so that I had to catch myself before face-planting in the space she’d left behind. The popcorn bowl tumbled precariously and I grabbed it at the last second.

  “I better get some sleep. Early meeting, like I said.” Jordan scurried to the door and held it open.

  It was a tactic I recognized all too well. A clear message.

  I didn’t argue or try to prolong the evening. I’d learned enough about Jordan in the short time since we’d met to realize I’d pushed her too far too fast.

  “Sure thing.” I stood and made my way to the hall, stepping over a pile of clothes on my way. Feet just over the threshold, I turned back and met Jordan’s stare but she looked away before I could read what was there.

  “Thanks for tonight. It was fun,” she said.

  I hooked a hand in my belt loop and nodded. “We’ll do it again sometime.” I waited to see if she’d ask me when or suggest something specific. But she didn’t reply.

  Instead, she tilted her head in a good night and, at a loss, I did the same. I recognized the distance for what it was: her armor hardening around her once again. Slowly, the door closed and clicked shut, sealing me out and Jordan in. Just like her heart.

  Chapter Nine

  Jordan

  Two weeks of steady planning and applying for permits and I finally knew what it meant to chase your tail. My days were full of paperwork and applications and polite requests to the employees down at the city planning office and all to no avail. No matter how many times I filled out their forms, I still didn’t have what I needed. And I didn’t have anyone around to ask for help either.

  Casey and Summer and even Ford had all disappeared to finish the last round of what Casey had vaguely called “spring planting.” I barely saw them, communicating the next steps for the house with Summer mostly through emails and texts.

  Casey and I, on the other hand, barely spoke at all. He’d backed off since that night in my room when I’d rejected the kiss. He’d stopped strutting around in ripped clothes and confident smirks. In fact, he’d been decidedly distracted when we were together. He still flirted but it was almost half-hearted, like he didn’t expect me to take him up on any of it—or maybe he just no longer cared if I did.

  That was good, I told myself. His attempt to kiss me had been tempting but at the last second, my grief had stolen my desire. It was too soon. Or my heart was too broken. I didn’t know which.

  Either way, Casey’s absence gave me plenty of time to settle in—and with some peace and quiet to boot. Even Mom had calmed down and stopped blowing up my phone. I guess she was finally convinced I wasn’t doing this out of some nervous breakdown or a vendetta to seek some sort of twisted revenge on my grandparents. It wasn’t their fault Dad died. In my opinion, they didn’t deserve credit for his life either.

  “I’m not mad that you didn’t tell me when you were going. I just want to make sure you’re okay, honey,” Mom had said when we’d spoken last week, and I suspected that was her pain point. Not that I’d come here without telling her first, but that I still hadn’t talked to her—or anyone—about Dad’s death.

  I knew Gavin was in her ear, telling her how worried he was, which only made it worse. Brothers were good for something, I just wasn’t sure what. Mom had come around, though, and I was glad. She’d taken Dad’s death harder than anyone. I’d kept my mission here a secret from her on purpose, half-terrified she’d want to come with me. That wouldn’t have ended well.

  Now, with Mom pacified, my cell was quiet. None of my former coworkers had contacted me since I’d left the firm. I’d stopped answering weeks ago for my friends back in Hartford. They all wanted to cluck their tongue and insist I talk about my feelings. Screw that.

  I’d just wanted some distance. Now, for the first time in months, everything felt quiet.

  All except for those permits. I was pretty sure Grayson’s city planner’s office was giving me the runaround for being an outsider. Wrong forms, right forms filled out incorrectly, wrong fees paid, wrong survey submitted. Everything that could hold me up did.

  The car jostled as I rolled off the main road and onto the packed gravel that led to the lone ranch-style at the end I now called home. Overhead, the blue sky and white puffy clouds were so misleading. It was almost wet outside with humidity. Sticky, gross humidity.

  And I’d just gotten another permit back. Denied for incorrect survey submitted. Apparently, it was supposed to be notarized? My ass…

  My phone rang and I glanced over at the caller ID. I bit my lip, debating whether to answer. I wasn’t in the mood for another lecture. After the fourth ring, I turned down the volume on Casey’s truck radio—country, the only station that came in strong enough to hear past the fuzz—and answered my phone. “Hi, Gav,” I said, one hand on the wheel.

  “It’s Friday.”

  “Did you call me to state the obvious?” The reply came out harsher than I’d intended.

  “Whoa, there, tiger. Ease up. I’m calling to tell you it’s the weekend and I’ve got some time off … so if you want some company to do your big reveal over at Sharon and John’s, I can swoop down and escort you.”