Finding Forever (9 page)

Now, at least, he wouldn’t face any disapproving father, but after mutually agreeing they wouldn’t rush the physical aspect of their relationship this time, Jake found himself less sure of the rules. There was one thing he was sure of, though. If Jordan invited him in, he’d accept.

She unfastened her seatbelt and leaned across the center console, her proximity causing his heart to beat faster.

“I had a really great time tonight.”  She brushed her lips gently across his, and he took in her scent. “We should do it again sometime.”

Sometime soon, please.
“I’d like that,” Jake said once he found his voice.

“Next time I’ll cook for you.”

“You cook?” He heard the surprise reflected in his voice and wanted to take it back, hoping he hadn’t offended her.

Instead, Jordan chuckled. “I occasionally prepare meals in my kitchen and so far haven’t started any fires.” She kissed him again. “I’ll call you. Goodnight, Jake.”

***

Jordan closed the front door behind her and leaned back against it, slightly breathless and hoping for balance. It took every ounce of restraint she had not to invite him in.

Cujo looked up at her with a stern expression, as if she disapproved of Jordan’s decision, or at least didn’t believe it.

“What?” Jordan asked the cat. “I had to do that, okay? I hope you understand why.”

Jordan walked out of the courtroom with Beth after the plea and sentencing in the Becker case. Her client would be going to prison for five years, but she had no regrets about this one. The plea offer was fair and he chose to take it, wisely realizing that the evidence against him was substantial and he risked far more time if he took the case to trial and was convicted. She was pleased to have the case closed, and even more pleased it was her last scheduled hearing of the day. There were more important things on her mind.

“I think Judge Benson’s happy to have that one done, too,” Beth said.

“Anything to avoid a high-profile trial that would polarize the public in an election year, right?” Jordan hadn’t been working in Grande Valley during the previous election cycle, so she didn’t know for sure if it really changed anything, but others in the criminal defense bar insisted it did, and she was starting to think they were right.

Beth’s eyes widened in mock horror. “How can you even say something like that about an esteemed member of the judiciary, especially when one of our best friends is a judge?”

Jordan laughed. “Our friend is a different kind of judge in a different state. I doubt she’d be offended at my opinion of Judge Benson.” They stepped out of the courthouse into the mid-afternoon sun.

“True. And Benson’s as political as they come.” Beth lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t tell anyone where you heard this, but his poll numbers are tanking.”

The news came as no surprise to Jordan.
Great. I traded Hollywood politics for Texas justice politics.
She wasn’t sure her new home came out ahead on that particular aspect, but overall her practice and her life in Texas suited her much better than California had. “If you’re done sharing political gossip,” she said, “do you want to walk with me to the Mexican grocery store?”

“Sure.” Beth fell into step beside her. “You can tell me what you’re cooking for Jake.”

“Who said anything about cooking for Jake?” Jordan tried to sound nonchalant but suspected she failed.

“Sarah, who called me this morning to tell me that you called Kelsey last night wanting advice on a recipe for a romantic dinner,” Beth explained. “This, of course, came as quite a shock to Sarah, given your past position on all things hearts and flowers, so she wanted to know what was up. Naturally, I felt obliged to fill her in.”

“Naturally.” Jordan groaned, wishing she’d simply looked at a cookbook, or gone on the internet and googled ‘romantic recipes.’ It wasn’t hard to imagine how their conversation had gone. “Have you settled on bridesmaid’s dresses yet?”

“Not quite,” Beth said with total seriousness. “But Sarah is lobbying for a January or February wedding date so she has an excuse to escape the New Hampshire winter.”

“Jesus.” Jordan rolled her eyes. “You’re both ridiculous.” They reached the intersection and she jabbed her finger on the button to trigger the walk signal.

Beth ignored that. “So what are you cooking?”

“Veal piccata.” The walk signal came on and Jordan started to cross the street.

“Then why are we going to the Mexican grocery?”

“Because I need
cajeta
for the chocolate flan.” Everyone said the caramel sauce from her usual American grocery store wasn’t the same.

Beth stopped in her tacks in the middle of the intersection. “You’re making chocolate flan?”

“Yes.” The traffic light changed and car horns blared. Jordan grabbed Beth’s arm and dragged her the last two feet to the sidewalk. “Since when does that justify practically getting run over?”

“Because, Jordan, I’ve lived in Grande Valley my whole life, and everyone here knows that when a girl makes chocolate flan, it means she plans on inviting a man to her bed.”

“I stand by my earlier assessment. You’re completely ridiculous.” Jordan yanked open the door of the small grocery and stepped inside. They were immediately greeted in Spanish by a short, heavy-set woman whom Jordan knew was the owner. She returned the greeting and, in her best mangled Spanish, asked for the caramel sauce made from goat’s milk.

“She’s making
flan de chocolate
,” Beth announced.

The woman’s eyes lit up and she gave Jordan a knowing smile. “
Si. Buena suerte
.”

Jordan glared at Beth.
Great. You just announced that I plan on having sex tonight and she wished me luck.

***

Jake used his break between scenes to read more of the script Greg sent him a few days ago. He knew his agent was itching for an answer, but Jake didn’t want to commit to the project without having the opportunity to fully analyze it. Saint Lucia and Kate Hudson sounded really good, but there were other things to consider. Namely, a certain blonde lawyer who was hotter than Kate Hudson, anyway.

Still, the script so far was impressive, and Jake liked that both the plot and the character he’d be playing—a police detective— were nothing at all like Lance or
Border Cowboys
. The last thing he wanted was to be typecast.

Reece came over and sat beside him, eyes drifting to the title on the script. “That’s the new Chaz Collier film, right?” the director asked.

Jake nodded. “Yeah. My agent just sent it to me.”

“Leading role?”

Jake wondered why Reece was so curious. “Yes. I haven’t made up my mind yet,” he said. “I like the script, though.”

“Chaz is an old film school buddy of mine from UT,” Reece said. “He was two years ahead of me, so I considered him a mentor.”

“I didn’t know that,” Jake said, still not sure where the conversation was going.

“You weren’t expected to.” Reece shrugged. “Anyway, I’m familiar with the project and know how important it is to Chaz. He’s brilliant, but even the most brilliant directors need the right cast. There are plenty of actors who would practically kill for that part. I told Chaz I thought you were the guy, though.”

“I...wow.” The words took a few seconds to sink in. Reece White had personally recommended him to Chaz Collier? Jake didn’t know what to say. “Thank you,” he finally managed. “Your vote of confidence means a lot.”

“You’ve got some real talent. What you do with it is up to you.” Reece stood up. “Anyway, I came over to tell you that we need to accelerate our shooting schedule a bit. The studio wants to push us up for a Christmas release.”

Christmas release. Jake knew what that meant. Oscar eligibility. The main words he heard, though, were accelerating the shooting schedule. “Are we shooting late tonight?” he asked.

“Why? Do you have a hot date?” Reece chuckled. “We’re still wrapping at six tonight, but after this, don’t expect a lot of free time for the next few weeks. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” Jake promised. “This movie is the reason I’m here.”

“And you’re doing a great job,” Reece said. “So great that I sent some of the daily footage of your scenes to the press back in L.A. Never hurts to generate some early awards buzz, right?” He put on his sunglasses and walked away.

Jake watched him go and sank back in his chair, the new script momentarily forgotten. Was he imagining things, or did Reece White just hint that he was promoting Jake for a supporting actor nomination?

***

Local custom as an aphrodisiac or not, chocolate flan proved to be the most difficult recipe Jordan ever attempted. Hopefully, it would be worth it. With it in the oven and the timer set, she still had time before she needed to start the veal piccata, so she put fresh linens on the bed. Better safe than sorry, right?

She tidied up the rest of the condo—which meant randomly tossing some things into the spare bedroom and shutting the door—before starting preparations on her main dish. She kept her phone nearby, ready to send an emergency plea to Kelsey if she faltered with the recipe. Fortunately, it proved easy to follow.

The chocolate flan sat chilling, and the main dish in the oven, when her phone chirped, signaling a text message.

Just about to leave. Do I need to bring anything?

Jordan smiled as she texted back.
Just yourself. And your appetite.

A few seconds later, the phone chirped again.
For the food? Or you?

Was that an invitation or a hint? Either way, Jordan hadn’t just spent two hours making chocolate flan not to want to get something out of it. A smile spread across her face as she typed her reply.

Jake held his breath after he sent the last text to Jordan. Was it too cocky? Did it assume too much? If so, Jake blamed his talk with Reece for making him feel on the top of the world. And why not? He’d just learned he might be in contention for an Oscar nomination.

When Jake signed on for
Border Cowboys
, it was with the hope that the movie might generate some Oscar talk. Most people in Hollywood figured it was only a matter of time before Reece took home the coveted statue for Best Director, and the subject matter of the film was the kind of edgy stuff that the Academy usually loved. It was a good project to be involved in, even if it never became a box office hit. Still, Jake never allowed himself to dream that his role in the film might be included in the Oscar talk.

It still wasn’t, he had to remind himself. Just because Reece sent some dailies to a few Academy voters didn’t mean a nomination. For now, Jake tried to be
content with the fact a rising-star director liked his work, that he knew what his next job would be—assuming he agreed to do the Chaz Collier project—and that he was about to spend the evening with an incredible, and incredibly hot, woman.

That is
, if he didn’t turn her off with presumptuous text messages. Jake figured the risk was minimal. Jordan had a sense of humor, and besides, he wanted her to know that he wanted her. The sense of humor was reaffirmed when he read her simple, one-word reply.

Yes.

The hopeful anticipation of what might lie ahead prompted him to make a quick detour on the way. He arrived at her door fifteen minutes later, and she answered it wearing a sundress adorned with flowers and a matching pink flower in her hair, which cascaded to her shoulders.

Jake held out the bouquet of fresh flowers. “I brought you these, though I’m not sure you need any more flowers.”

“Nonsense. A girl can never have too many flowers.” Jordan smiled sheepishly. “Well, not this girl, anyway.” As she took them from him, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

She smelled like a mixture of vanilla and mint, and Jake wondered if it was soap, shampoo, or perfume. Either way, it bordered on intoxicating.
Down, boy.
“Don’t worry, I came with my appetite, too,” he said.

Jordan chuckled. “Good to know.” She nodded in the direction of the patio off her living room. “I thought we could sit outside. Why don’t you go on out? Just let me put these in some water and I’ll join you.”

Jake wasn’t sure about sitting outside in the hot summer sun, but if Jordan wanted to eat on her patio, he’d find a way to tolerate the heat. Surprisingly, when he opened the French doors and stepped outside, he found that it didn’t even feel that hot.

A wooden fence lined one side of the patio, affording
privacy from the adjacent unit, but the other sides were open. Jake looked around and quickly noticed that the pot he’d purchased for her a few weeks before was now filled with a cactus and sat in a corner of the patio. It pleased him seeing that she’d found a place for it already.

The door opened again, and Jordan stepped outside carrying two tall glasses filled with what Jake now recognized as her signature drink. Club soda, with a twist of lemon.  It wasn’t the most flavorful drink he’d ever had, but Jake was getting used to it. Besides, she was worth some sacrifices.

Jordan set the drinks on the table and reached up to open the umbrella.

“Here, let me.” Jake stepped over to help her. Once the umbrella was locked in place, he sat down and reached for one of the glasses. “I expected it to be hotter out here, but it doesn’t feel too bad.”

“No.” Jordan sat down in the other chair. “The wonders of eastern exposure. I was on the waiting list for two months to get a unit here because I told my realtor I wanted nothing to do with a west facing patio.” She sipped her drink. “What’s the point of having a patio if it’s too hot to use it after two in the afternoon?”

“Makes sense. This is nice.” Jake took a drink. “I see you’re using the pot. It looks great out here.”

“I knew it’d match the decor,” Jordan said. “I like it a lot. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome.” Jake smiled. “Happy to see it put to good use.”

“How hungry are you? We can have the salad now, or just sit out here for a while. Dinner will keep for bit.”

Most of the women Jake dated in the past weren’t the type who’d cook a meal for him
, and he found himself unsure of the proper protocol. If he said he preferred to wait and just talk for a while, would she think he wasn’t looking forward to the meal she prepared? Likewise, if he said he was hungry and wanted to eat, did that imply he was just there for the food and didn’t really care about the company?

“The salad sounds good,” he said after the slightest hesitation. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all.” Jordan stood up. “I’ll get it.”

“Do you need some help?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Just sit. I’ll be right back.”

***

So far, so good, Jordan decided when she went back into the house to get the salad. Then again, it had only been ten minutes and they hadn’t eaten anything. The real test would come when Jake tried the meal. Since it marked the first time she’d ever cooked dinner for a man, Jordan figured some nerves were allowed.

She carried a tray containing the salad and two small plates back to the patio. When she reached the door, Jake jumped up to open it for her. “Thanks.” She set the tray on the table. “For our first course tonight, we have a salad of spicy greens, cherries, prosciutto
, and goat cheese,” Jordan said, trying to sound like a server in a fancy restaurant.

“It looks delicious.” Jake spooned some of the salad onto a plate. “And so far the service is top notch, too.” He winked at Jordan. “Keep this up and you can expect a nice tip.”

Jordan felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she filled her own plate, wondering if she could blame it on the early August Texas heat and not the gorgeous man sitting less than two feet away from her. Probably not. “Lest you think the only thing I know how to make is salads, I promise you we do have a main course.”

Jake nodded and finished swallowing a bite. “I wasn’t worried. Something smelled absolutely delicious when I walked in, and as good as this salad is, I know it wasn’t this.”

“No,” Jordan said. “Eat up, and you’ll soon find out what that wonderful aroma was.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Jake laughed and took a bigger bite of salad.

A few minutes later, Jordan served her attempt at a masterpiece. It wasn’t burned, and hopefully wouldn’t require any trips to the emergency room later for a bad case of food poisoning. “For the piece de resistance, veal piccata, served with sides of garlic brie mashed potatoes and fresh, steamed asparagus.”

Jake’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Wow. If it’s really true that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, then I think you just captured mine.”

He was smooth, very smooth, and Jordan found herself blushing again. “Maybe you should taste it first, before you offer me your heart forever,” she teased, then proceeded to hold her breath while he sampled first the veal, then the mashed potatoes.

“Mmm.” A contented sigh escaped his throat. “Yep, I do believe I am yours forever.” Jake took a swallow of club soda. “Damn, Jordan, you continue to amaze me. Where’d you learn to cook like this? Did you take a class or something?”

“No class, no,” Jordan said as she filled her own plate. “And I’ve never tried this recipe before.” She tasted a bit of the veal and decided that it was, indeed, pretty darn good, if perhaps not as impressive as Jake made it out to be. “It called for a dry white wine,” she explained. “I just used extra lemon juice and chicken stock instead.”

“I wouldn’t have known the difference if you wouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, probably not.” So many recipes called for the inclusion of wine, though, and she had to be careful. “I got the recipe from a friend who cooks with wine a lot, so I had to make some modifications. I’ll have to tell her this works fine without it.”

“Better than fine,” Jake praised, taking another bite. “Does she live here? Your friend?”

Jordan shook her head. “New Hampshire, actually. The partner of one of my former law school classmates,” she said.

“And you share recipes from two thousand miles away?” Jake laughed softly. “I’m gonna guess that’s a girl thing.”

“I guess.” Jordan shrugged. “The short version, since the long version is pretty embarrassing, is that I wasn’t in a very good place when I left California and came back here for my class reunion.”

“Right. You mentioned that.” Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Go on.”

Did she want to go on? “I had some amends to make as part of my recovery process. I hoped the reunion might clarify things for me, and in some ways it did, but it was also difficult.” Jordan took a drink of water, enjoying the crispness of the fresh lemon on the glass. That she no longer wished it was wine, or something stronger, was a major victory. “I almost relapsed.”

Jake exhaled. “Jeez, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring up bad subjects.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jordan waved her hand. “It was okay then, too, because I found myself blessed with good friends that I maybe didn’t deserve, but who were willing to help me. Since I’d left my job in L.A. and I wasn’t sure what to do next with my life, I ended up going to New Hampshire and spending a month with Sarah and her family.” She was still grateful for the helping hand.

“And you learned how to cook,” Jake concluded, reaching for another helping of mashed potatoes. “Very well, apparently.”

Jordan took another bite of the veal. It really did taste good. “Kelsey’s a schoolteacher, and it was summer, so she was off work. She introduced me to cooking, and we tried out a lot of recipes. It kept me sane and kept me from craving a drink.”

“Then I owe my thanks,” Jake said. “For helping you and for this fabulous recipe.”

“I’ll tell her,” Jordan said. She stood up to clear the dishes, wanting something to do besides talk about an almost-relapse. “Are you ready for dessert?”

“Maybe in a little bit,” Jake said. “How about we take a walk first?”

***

Jake figured out there were some things Jordan still felt uneasy about discussing, so he didn’t press the issue, instead being content to stroll through the complex holding her hand. “This looks nice,” he said when they paused by the zero-entry pool, with its crisp blue water and a finish that resembled white sand. “Do you use it often?”

“As often as possible. Why?”

“No reason.”
I was just trying to conjure up a mental image of you in a bikini, sunning yourself by this amazing pool.
Who needed Kate Hudson and Saint Lucia, Jake wondered. At the moment, everything he wanted was right here. “So how come nobody’s ever snatched you up?” he asked.

“What?” Was it his imagination, or did she tense when he asked? After a second, she shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m too high maintenance and I scared them all away.”

More likely you never let anyone get close enough to scare away.

“What about you?” she asked, changing the subject. “Handsome, charming leading man like you. How come nobody’s ever snared you? Have you ever gotten close to walking down the aisle?”

Jake thought about Macy. She hadn’t been making any more noise for a few days, and he hoped she’d finally got the hint. “No, never.” Now it his turn to try to deflect to a more comfortable subject. “Why don’t we go back and have that dessert now?”

They walked back to her condo and Jordan made him wait on the patio while she got the dessert out of the refrigerator. “Close your eyes,” she called out as she got to the door.

Jake did as he was told, not even sneaking a peak until she said he could open them again. When he did, his gaze immediately drifted to table where she’d set her latest masterpiece, which resembled nothing Jake had ever seen before. On each plate was a slice of cake with a chocolate layer on the bottom and a yellow layer on top, with sauce that looked like caramel poured on top and drizzling down the sides. “And what do you call this mouth-watering delight?” he asked.

“
Flan de chocolate
,” she said, affecting a Spanish accent.

“What de chocolate?”

“Flan.” Jordan laughed. “It’s a Mexican delicacy, and part of a very interesting local lore.”

“What’s that?”

“According to the locals, when a girl makes chocolate flan for a man, it’s a sign that she hopes to entice him to her bed.”

“Oh?” Jake tried to keep his tone casual even as the mere mention of the custom caused a stirring in his groin. “Is that what you’re doing?”

Jordan licked her lips. “How am I doing?”