Page 32

December

Alice

I wake up inside a furnace. Or is it a sauna? I feel a bead of sweat rolling down the bridge of my nose and I scrunch it a few times. I try to move my arm, but it’s stuck in the heavy blanket I’m cocooned under.

The blanket moves and I?—

Wait, the blanket moves? My eyes fly open and the first thing I notice is a silver necklace resting against a white shirt. The same white shirt Jordan was wearing last night while we had a movie marathon and took care of the girls.

My nose is precariously close to the hollow spot at his throat, and I can feel every breath he inhales and exhales, ruffling what I’m sure is an incredible case of bed hair.

My eyelids flutter closed once more as I bask in the closeness.

Jordan’s arms are around me, one draped over my shoulder, the other pinned under me.

This can’t possibly be comfortable for him. I should move. I should put some distance between us, not just because I’m overheated, but because I told myself I wouldn’t do this again. It’s bad enough for my bruised-up heart that I’ve let him in again, even just as a friend.

But we have never been able to be just friends.

From the moment I met him, I knew I was going to fall head over heels in love with him.

And I think deep down, he knew it too. This thing between us is too raw, too real.

It’s stolen glances at the dinner table and subtle touches between friends.

It’s fond memories at the cabin and hot kisses in the snow.

It’s steady hands on my waist and warm lips against my forehead.

It’s ordinary moments made extraordinary by the man holding me.

I blink back the tears that threaten to spill and burrow myself deeper, enjoying this moment for as long as I can. I don’t know where we stand anymore, but I do know that my attraction to Jordan is still as strong as ever.

Valerie’s soft cries pull me out of my comfortable nap, and I gently push back on Jordan’s chest to check on her.

He turns on his back but doesn’t wake up and I breathe a sigh of relief, not wanting to deal with the awkwardness of waking up tangled in each other and having to—god forbid—talk about it.

My niece’s face is pinched with big fat tears at the corners of her eyes, and I pull her into my arms, hugging her tight.

“What’s wrong, baby? Were you lonely?” I ask quietly.

After a quick diaper change and a bottle, she’s all smiley and happy once more.

It’s astounding how much she takes after Olivia. She, too, is hangry most of the time.

I place her in the high chair I brought over from my apartment last night and peek into Jordan’s bedroom to check on the girls.

They’re both still asleep and sprawled out in the king-sized bed.

I smile and pull the blanket up to cover them.

My gaze snags on a picture on Jordan’s nightstand and my fingers involuntarily reach out to grab it.

It’s a picture of us at Robbie and Olivia’s wedding, walking down the aisle together.

It doesn’t look like one of the professional pictures from that weekend and I bring it closer to my face for inspection.

I’m smiling wide, looking down at the bouquet in my hand, while Jordan’s head is turned my way, a soft look on his face.

Another piece of my armor cracks and falls from where it’s encased around my heart.

Even after everything I had put him through—ignoring him, not being willing to hear him out, he was still looking at me like I meant the world to him.

More than that, he keeps the picture on his nightstand.

Does he look at it every night?

Is it a constant reminder of what we could have had?

I swallow the lump in my throat and tiptoe out of the room. Jordan is still asleep on the couch, lying face down on his stomach after having rolled out of the blanket. His arms are clutching the pillow above his head, and his long legs are sprawled, one socked foot dangling over the edge.

I bite my lip and allow myself one more glance, roaming over his muscular thighs and his firm ass before deciding on making breakfast.

I’m quiet as I pull blueberries, milk, and a carton of eggs out of the fridge.

I land on making pancakes, knowing the girls will love it as much as Jordan.

When the microwave beeps, I take the butter out and look over my shoulder.

He’s still asleep and as much as I want to enjoy his conversation, I’m glad he’s getting some rest. He needs it.

Especially now that I know how much pain he deals with on a regular basis.

With my back to the living room, I flip the last of the pancakes and scramble a few eggs, adding them into the pan opposite the bacon.

“That smells so good.” Jordan’s deep voice comes from somewhere behind me, and I turn just in time to see him stretching with a sleepy expression on his face.

I stare open-mouthed, barely holding on to the spatula, as he closes the space between us and leans in, peeking at the stove and the stack of pancakes on the plate next to it.

“Blueberry. My favorite,” he says, giving me a dopey smile. His freckles are stark in the morning light, and I trace the pattern over his nose and cheeks with my eyes. I want to kiss those freckles. I want to sink my teeth into his bottom lip and taste that dopey smile.

Instead, I clear my throat and take a step back, until my spine meets the edge of the fridge. Jordan looks at me like I’ve grown another head, but I save the moment by saying, “Want some orange juice?”

“Sure,” he says, and I busy myself pouring us juice and stacking food on our plates.

Jordan

I’m not sure what changed between last night, when Alice made her way into my arms, claiming to be cold, and this morning. One moment, she was pinning me with her gorgeous blue eyes, her gaze searching, and the next, she was focusing on everything other than me.

Does she feel this pull between us too?

After breakfast, I offer to keep an eye on all three kids while she takes a shower. As much as I want her to stay, she runs back to her apartment and comes back wearing a matching set of pink sweats, her shoulder-length hair damp from the shower.

“Your turn,” she says, making herself comfortable on the couch, placing a book next to her and perching her laptop on her thighs.

“Okay,” I chuckle, grabbing a towel out of the linen closet and heading into the bathroom. My shower is quick since I don’t want to leave her alone too long. I crave being with her, next to her, around her. I’ll take every ounce of attention she’s willing to give me.

Once I step out of the shower, a towel wrapped around my waist, I realize I didn’t bring any clothes in here with me. I groan and screw my eyes shut.

Shit .

The door creaks as I open it slowly and poke my head out, looking towards the living room. Alice’s gaze snaps to mine and she smiles, trying not to show her amusement.

“Everything okay?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

My cheeks are on fire, and I look down at the floor of my hallway in embarrassment. “I forgot to grab clothes.”

Alice laughs breezily, throwing her head back against the couch. “Want some help?” she asks once she finally calms down.

“No!” I yell out, groaning once more and holding my towel with both hands. “Can you just look away?”

“Sure thing, hotshot,” she says, winking at me, and my dick twitches at the old nickname. I bite my lip and look out once more, making sure she is indeed not watching.

I rush down the hall and duck into my bedroom, but her light chuckle follows me all the way into the closet.

By the end of the day, we’ve stuffed ourselves with leftovers and junk food, watched three movies, and even played a couple of card games.

The girls are asleep once more but before Alice can make herself comfortable on the couch, I say, “What if we take the sleepover to the bedroom?”

Her wide eyes meet mine and she blushes. Hard. I didn’t mean anything by my comment, but a smirk still plays on my lips. I like where her mind is at.

“I just mean—it’s a king-sized bed, we can all fit. And Val’s crib is portable.”

“Right, of course. That would be good,” she says, nodding and trying to convince herself.

She tucks Katie and Lory in on one side of the bed and we place Val by my side, so we can easily reach her if she wakes up. I bring in her laptop and book and she takes them both with a shy smile.

I don’t have time to wonder what she’s thinking about because she makes herself comfortable in the middle of the bed, getting back to her screen and sitting up against the headboard.

Reluctantly, I slide in next to her and mirror her position, scrolling on my phone and looking at some team reports. The room is quiet except for the sound of the girls’ breathing and Alice’s fingers flying across the keyboard.

I wonder what she’s writing. I’m dying to know what her book is about and if she’d ever let me read it. Taking a shot in the dark, I whisper, “Is that your book you’re working on?”

“No, I’m putting some finishing touches on the story for my parents for Christmas.”

I smile, happy that they still have that tradition. “What genre is it this year?”

Alice slowly turns her head to look at me and grins. “Two words: murder mystery,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

I bite my lip, looking down at her. She smells so good, I want to wrap her up in my arms and get drunk on her coconut shampoo.

“This is my book, by the way,” she says shyly, tapping a manicured finger on the pink book sitting between us.

I gasp, startling her. “You mean, I could have been reading it this whole time?”

“I never said you could read it,” she says, but I can tell she’s just teasing.

“You won’t have a choice. Once it’s published, I’ll buy a whole case of them,” I whisper back.

“Better put your money where your mouth is, hotshot.”

“You know I will,” I say, my gaze dipping to her lips and the curve of her smile.

“We’ll see.” That’s all she says as she gets back to her typing.

When I look over at her again, her head is slumped against her chest and her arms have gone slack. I put her computer to sleep and place it on my nightstand and I grab her book, planning to do the same.

Except I don’t. Instead, I read the back of it, and then I read the dedication, the author’s note, and the prologue.

And by the time my eyelids are closing shut, I’m halfway through the book.

I’m dying to know what happens to the characters and if they get their happy ending, but sleep wins over this time.

When I lie down after turning the light off, Alice stirs and drifts closer to me, her head finding the spot between my shoulder and chest. I curve my arm around her and pull her closer, letting my fingers tangle in her hair.

I fall asleep inhaling her sweet scent and muttering, “I hope we get our happy ending.”