Page 22 of Jordan’s Breakthrough (Unexpected Love #3)

I’m relieved to hear he’s worried about it too. It means it’s not all in my head. “Oh, I’m definitely okay. You?”

His dark eyes study me, then he finally relaxes. “Honestly? Yeah. It’s crazy. I wish I could feel like this all the time. Like everyone else does.”

“What do you mean?”

He taps his chest. “It’s light in here right now. Like the depression is gone or something.”

I want to touch him, but I don’t. “Well, if it helps? I don’t feel like this all the time, either,” I say softly.

He glances at me.

“I don’t. It’s new for me too.”

He rests his head against the cushion, finally smiling. “Yeah?”

“But I don’t want you to think… what I mean is, I didn’t come here with expectations. I didn’t expect that, you know. The sex.”

Jordan offers his hand, still smiling. When I take it, he threads our fingers together. “But that’s what makes it even hotter, isn’t it? That we both trusted each other enough to go for it.”

I duck my face, a little embarrassed. “It was really hot.”

He lifts our hands to his lips. “I don’t want to overthink it, okay? We had sex. It was amazing. I hope it’ll happen again, if my body will let me, and that’s all that needs said.”

I'm still anxious.

He pulls me in, kissing my forehead. “I’d normally be talking to you on a screen, but I get to hold you instead.”

I settle in, an arm across his middle. “Only thing that would make this better is if we were in bed like usual.”

He smirks. “How about a movie in bed then? I’m not tired, but I could go for a movie.”

I lift my gaze. “I’d like that.”

We get up and head to his bedroom. Jordan kicks some of the mess aside, mumbling another apology before reaching for a fresh fitted sheet from the closet. While he changes that, I sneak off to the bathroom.

When I come back out, Jordan is in bed with the lights off. I strip down to my underwear and crawl in with him.

Jordan immediately pulls me close. “This is crazy! You are in my bed,” he says, sounding insanely happy. “Not on a screen. Not a thousand miles away. You’re actually here.”

I grin. “I am.”

Jordan touches my face and kisses me. “Thank you for coming, Miles.”

My heart warms.

He turns the TV on, and despite his earlier protests about not being tired, Jordan falls asleep within minutes.

Maybe this is part of the crash he was talking about.

How it wears him out? I don’t know, but I’m glad he’s not pushing me away.

Now that I’m here, I love being in his arms. The weight of his hold is more perfect than I could have imagined. We fit together nicely.

An idea forms in my head the longer I lay there. As stealthily as I can, I roll over and reach for my phone.

Please let this work.

****

Jordan kept his arm firmly around me all night, face near mine on the pillow. And as much as I usually love that kind of thing, it’s also threatening to ruin my big plan.

After checking my phone for the time, I wiggle out from his hold and rush to the bathroom.

With one minute to spare, I tiptoe to the living room just in time to see a car pull up outside.

I quietly open the front door and meet the delivery guy outside.

After giving him a generous tip, I haul the thirty bags of groceries inside, two handfuls at a time.

It’s not as easy as it sounds, trying to be quiet and keeping a cat from escaping.

“Clem, no,” I hiss, blocking her with a foot.

She meows at me, then runs off down the hall, tail flicking.

I sigh. We are not off to a good start. “You will love me!” I whisper.

I’m forced to organize the bags from the floor since there isn’t room on the counter. Too many plants. I never thought I’d say that.

The cabinets are not as bare as the fridge, thankfully, but I still wonder how Jordan keeps himself fed. Does he really survive on takeout and meals at work? That can’t be healthy.

Finally, after everything is sorted, I crack some eggs and get to work.

Trying to stay quiet in a room where every noise echoes is extremely stressful. I constantly look down the hall to make sure Jordan is still asleep.

Once everything is ready, I load two plates with scrambled eggs, buttered toast, strawberries, and some sausage patties. Then I pour two glasses of orange juice, since I can't find the coffee filters anywhere.

I look around for a tray to carry it all on, settling on a large cutting board in a cabinet. Perfect.

Jordan is on his stomach when I return to the bedroom, arms spread. One leg is out of the sheets, revealing tanned skin all the way to his hip. It’s unfair how freaking sexy the man is, even asleep. With his hair all fanned out like that, I’m tempted to forget the food and just eat him.

Behave, Miles!

With a sigh, I set the cutting board on the dresser, since there isn’t a good place near the bed.

Then I climb on the bed and snuggle in as close as I can.

“Morning, handsome,” I say, kissing Jordan’s nose.

He barely stirs.

Tucking his hair behind his ear, I kiss him again, on the lips. This time, I’m rewarded with a soft smile. He slowly cracks an eye, then his smile grows as he touches my face.

“Not dreaming,” he mumbles.

I snicker. “Nope. I’m still here. And I made you breakfast.”

His dark brows pull together, clearly confused. Rightly so, given his previous grocery offerings, but that just makes it even better.

“Sit up, hon.”

Climbing off the bed, I grab the cutting board and turn to present Jordan with his meal. My belly squirms with delight watching his face go from confusion, to shock, to pure adoration as he realizes I wasn’t joking about the food. He forces himself up, face red with sleep lines.

God, he’s adorable.

Jordan takes one plate, I take the other. We set our glasses on the small side table and sit against the padded headboard.

“Where did all that come from?”

I shrug, innocently. “I ordered in. Eat up, before it gets cold.”

He arches a brow. “You ordered in?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“How? This looks homemade.” He touches his plate, as if to say not take-out.

I grin. “You really should use the internet more. It’s quite handy.” When he still seems confused, I cut him a break, laughing. He’s not as awake as I am. “I ordered some groceries for delivery last night, and it arrived about an hour ago.”

“But, why?”

“Because if I’m going to fulfill my dream of cooking for my boyfriend, I need food.” I freeze when I realize what I just called him. The whole point of this trip is to see if we even work together, so I shouldn’t jump my guns.

Jordan stabs a sausage patty and takes a bite. If he’d heard the slip, he doesn’t comment on it.

Clematis jumps on the bed, staying well out of my reach. Jordan offers her a scrap of sausage.

When I try, she ignores me.

Clematis flicks her tail, annoyed.

Jordan scratches her, devouring the food twice as fast as me, then swallows the orange juice in three gulps. He sets the plate on the side table, then sneaks off to the bathroom. Clematis follows him, becoming more and more vocal. Her meows echo in the closed space.

“I know, pretty girl. Give me a minute.”

She meows again.

“Yes, I know your breakfast is late. I’m sorry.”

I snicker.

When he’s done, he slips out the other bathroom door and walks down the hall toward the kitchen.

Clematis chases after him. Jordan was right. Missing a back leg does not slow that cat down.

I hear kibble being poured into a bowl, then the fridge door, then a loud, “Holy shit! Miles!”

I grin and finish my food, carrying the plates, silverware, and glasses back to the kitchen.

Jordan is pouring gravy from a pouch onto Clematis’s food, face a comical state of disbelief. “What have you done to my fridge?”

So, he hasn’t peeked in the cabinets yet? Well, I’m not going to tell him.

“Nothing.”

He offers Clematis her breakfast, without saying another word. Turning, he opens a can on the counter and scoops coffee grains into the coffee maker… without a filter.

Oh. It’s one of those fancy perma-filter ones. No wonder I couldn’t find them.

When he’s done, he turns toward me, brows still pinched together in a daze. Jordan truly has some of the best facial expressions. “Um. Thank you?”

It comes out more as a question.

I bite back another laugh, nerves getting the best of me. “If I don’t get to overthink the sex, then you don’t get to overthink this,” I say.

Jordan says nothing, slanting his head. Dark hair falls over one shoulder, begging for me to touch it.

“I just want to take care of you, okay? And cooking is how I do that. Plus, I enjoy it, and I don’t get to cook very often living in hotel rooms like I do, so let me do this? Please?”

Jordan shakes his head in dismay, opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then closes it. For a brief moment, I wonder if I crossed a line.

But then he brushes his hair back and comes over to me, pulling me in for a long hug. “I don’t deserve you.”

His words hit me the wrong way, but I don’t reply.

Jordan leans against the counter and pulls me toward him, forcing me to stand between his legs. His solid, warm body is heaven as he holds me.

It’s a long few minutes before he says, “I’m still taking you on a date tonight, though. And you’re not paying.”

I chuckle. “Fine. I’ll let you.”

He doesn’t let me pull away when I try. Jordan’s eyes soften before he kisses me tenderly. It makes desire stir in my belly, but I tamp it down.

“Thank you for breakfast,” he says more sincerely. “It was delicious.”

I jerk away when I realize something. “Shit, you don’t have any food allergies, do you? I should’ve asked.”

He laughs. “I could lie and say I’m allergic to the broccoli I saw in the fridge, but no. No allergies.”

“Okay, good.”

“Come on. Let’s get dressed and go do something fun before I have to work.”