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“You sure?”
“I said I’m—” Will exhaled in a gust. “It’s nothing, really. At least, nothing you can fix.”
David observed him, then began to smile. “Ten bucks the problem’s initials are J.P.”
Will raked one hand through his hair. “Go ahead. Say you warned me.”
“No need to rub it in. What’s she doing?”
“You haven’t enough time, I promise. And it’s my own bloody fault.” But he settled back against the wall. “I’m a patient man,” he began.
David chuckled. “Well, God knows Jordan will try a saint.”
Will’s humor began to return. “This fish is going to take a very long line and a steady hand.”
“You actually want to keep her? Jordan?”
“Of course not, but she’s fragile.”
“Jordan? The man-eater?”
“Don’t call her that.” Will’s ire rose. “You don’t understand her. There’s a damaged child inside that shrewish woman.”
“Shrew is a good description.”
“David,” Will said as cautiously as he could manage, “you haven’t looked beneath the surface. A tender heart resides there. God blind me for wanting to be kind to that heart, but I do.”
“Another one of your strays? I’ve seen your menagerie, watched how you slip food to the homeless guys and minister to my crew.” David captured his gaze. “She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
“She won’t.” Will shrugged. “And anyway, I said nothing of keeping her. But she can’t continue as she is. She’s not happy. If she would only—” He broke off. “Perhaps it’s a fool’s errand as you think, but I am as I am. I will not turn my back on suffering. This one is like a wild cat who spits and fights out of fear. Time and much wooing is required to gentle them. Jordan will need more than most.”
“And in the end? Where is this headed?” David inquired. “You know Jordan is violently opposed to the very idea of marriage.”
Will recoiled. “I’m not looking to marry the girl. Good God, man, I want peace in my life, a woman with whom to live in contentment. You’d never have a day of it with Jordan. It’s only that…” Will stared off into the distance. “I cannot leave her this way. She needs to know there are men who can be trusted. That she can allow herself to be soft. She’ll never be happy otherwise.”
“Well.” David shook his head. “You sure don’t lack ambition.” He clapped Will on the shoulder. “I admire you. I think.” He grinned. “Or perhaps I should have you committed. Not sure which.”
“Nor am I. Might keep the straitjacket handy. A bit more time with Jordan, and I may be ripe for it.”
On the other hand, he thought as he watched David leave, perhaps it’s time for a new tactic.
A slow smile spread over his features as an idea struck him.
What was it the Yanks were fond of saying? No guts, no glory?
ON SATURDAY MORNING, Jordan woke early, anticipating Will’s arrival. Though she told herself he deserved her bedhead and no shower, she found herself dressed and ready, coffee dripping into the pot by eight o’clock.
An hour later, still no Will.
“He said he wanted to take a look at that squeaky closet door,” she muttered. She contemplated going back to bed, but she wasn’t sleepy.
She spent another hour picking up and straightening the loft, though her cleaning service would be in on Monday.
At ten-thirty, she broke. Punched in the cell number she’d told him she didn’t want.
His phone rang and rang. At last he picked up. “Will Masterson.” His voice was distracted.
“Where are you?”
“Hmm—what?” Then his voice changed. “Why, darlin’ Jordan, are you awake, then?”
She almost hung up on him. “You said you wanted to look at my closet door. How was I supposed to sleep, knowing you’d be barging in at the crack of dawn?”
“I was busy.”
Busy with what? she wanted to ask but didn’t. Her heart squeezed a little, and anger stirred when she realized she’d already become accustomed to him being around nearly every day.
“I might be able to drop by later,” he offered.
“No need. The door doesn’t bother me.” So there. “Anyway, I have a full day.” Though, she realized, not one item on her list had much appeal.
Which terrified her. “So, just…have a good day.” She started to hang up.
“I was thinking,” he said in a casual tone, “that perhaps you might like to see my place.”
“Your place?” she echoed.
“Yes. I’m finishing a project. Since you have such a way with tools, perhaps you’d like to lend a hand.”
She could hear the smile in his voice and, curse him, that charmed her. “It’s not nice to mock other people.”
At last, that warm chuckle she’d come to depend on. “Oh, I wasn’t mocking, darlin’ Jordan. You do have a certain…manner with a tool in your hand.”
Normally, Jordan would assume a man saying that was talking dirty, but this was Will, and she could never quite be sure of anything where he was concerned. “So I could be like, your apprentice?”
“There is much I would be delighted to teach you. I’m certain I’ve made that clear, have I not?”
“You are talking dirty to me, in that roundabout Irish way of yours, aren’t you?”
“Me, darlin’ Jordan?” His voice was all innocence. “My sainted mother would faint to hear such a thing.” The smile in his tone grew more pronounced. “Perhaps you should come over and take my measure in person.”
“You make me crazy, you know that?” She couldn’t hold back her own laughter. This man—this impossibly aggravating and ornery and stubborn man—could make her, Jordan Parrish, giggle like the innocent girl she’d never been.
“Would that be a complaint, now?”
“What do you think?” She found herself grinning into the phone. “All right, all right, give me the address. Maybe I’ll drop by later,” she said, deliberately using his casual words.
“Come soon, Jordan.” His tone was husky.
She shivered a little in anticipation as she wrote down the address and ended the call.
For a few moments, she stared out the window at a crisp, cool day that somehow seemed a little brighter.
CHAPTER SEVEN
OF COURSE THE WOMAN would show up for manual labor wearing skinny jeans and a tank top that bared teasing glimpses of her smooth, taut belly, topped by some fuzzy sweater that probably cost the earth. On her feet were high-heeled ankle boots.
Will groaned silently. She would cost him his sanity, no question.
But, oh, she did look delectable.
“You live practically in the country,” she accused. She glanced around. “And your house is falling down.”
Will couldn’t help laughing. “Good afternoon to you, too.” Then, unable to resist, he swooped in and placed a kiss on that sulky, sexy mouth of hers.
Jordan sighed one breathy little moan, and it was all he could do not to snatch her up, bear her inside and lay her down on his bed.
Praise Jesus and all the saints…help me. “I’ll have you know that the exterior of my house is deceiving. The paint is only a primer until I figure out what colors I want. I’d like to eventually replace that octagonal window above the porch roof with a stained glass, but I haven’t yet found the right one.”
He continued, “I’ve focused first on securing the structure, then on making space livable inside. I will admit, though, that David believes I should have razed the entire house.” He grinned. “But he’d be wrong. I found lovely loblolly pine floors beneath ancient scarred vinyl, and there are crown moldings that I believe were hand-carved.”
She clung to her pose of nonchalance. “If you say so.”
“Would you care to see for yourself?”
She hesitated. “You really like all this stuff, don’t you? I mean—” She gestured around at his garden and the evidence of new trees he’d planted, shrubs he’d moved. “It’s all kind of Little House on the Prairie or something.”
“Come again?” His brow wrinkled.
“A series of books kids read, mostly girls. About a pioneer family.” She shrugged. “I used to think they were kind of amazing. There was Pa and Ma and their kids, and they raised chickens and cows and—” She halted. “Well, anyway, you’d be right at home there.”
He wove his fingers into hers and tugged her along. “This is how I lived in Ireland. We were not city folk. We grew our vegetables, my mum had hens for the eggs, Da raised dairy cows. We all pitched in. With eight children, it was necessary.”
She caught up with him. “Eight kids? Wow. I was an only child.”
And didn’t that loneliness shadow her?
“Which were you?” she asked. “Don’t tell me—the oldest, since you’re so bossy.”
He grinned. “You’d be wrong. I’m the black sheep and square in the middle. An elder sister and two older brothers, all raising families. I have two younger sisters, one married with a third baby on the way and one studying to be a nun. My two younger brothers are also bachelors but have at least stayed nearby, as my mum thinks I should have.”
Jordan glanced at him sideways. “The black sheep? Really? But your mother should know you’ve actually done her proud.” She hesitated. “I get, though, how it feels to disappoint people.” Her jaw tightened. “Not that I worry about that.”
“How could you possibly have disappointed your family with all you’ve achieved?” He was outraged on her behalf.
“It doesn’t matter. They are who they are. I don’t sweat it.”
But she did, clearly, despite her bravado. Will’s protective instincts surged. Did they not see how they’d hurt her? Could they not tell how she’d been harmed by their actions and attitudes?
“They’re wrong,” he said fiercely. When Jordan didn’t look at him, he took her chin and turned her face to his. “How could they not be proud of you?”
Her eyes widened. “You’re angry,” she marveled. “At them.”
“Of course I am. You were a child when they robbed you of a home.”
“It’s not a big deal. It was never much of a home.” She glanced around her. “Nothing like this, that’s for sure.” She met his gaze and laid her palm against his jaw. “But thanks for defending me.” Her eyes were as soft as he’d ever seen them.
He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and shield her.
Before he could, she turned away and studied his house. “So…explain to this city slicker exactly what you’ve done.”
Will considered her for another moment but knew she wouldn’t appreciate his pity. He turned his own attention to his house.
But he didn’t let go of her hand. “Allow me to introduce you to my lifetime home-improvement project,” he gestured with his free arm. “Please place a donation in the jar by the door at the end of the tour, should you be so inclined. The homeowner is ever in jeopardy of impoverishment.”
Jordan grinned up at him and managed a passable curtsy. “Do lead on, my good man.”
“Certainly. But mind your step, miss.” Though Will realized that the advice might more properly belong to him. Every glimpse of the heart behind her tough-as-nails facade made keeping his distance a little more difficult.
“SO WHAT ABOUT THE project you mentioned?” Jordan asked at the end of the tour as she stared at a piece of equipment Will called a router. She could barely imagine how the crown molding above their heads had come from this tool. Or what creating it had required. “Don’t you need to get back to it? Should I go?” In truth, however, she was more intrigued than she’d expected. She’d never given a second thought to how a structure was built, much less that all the pieces hadn’t come from some factory.
“There’s time,” he replied. “Would you care to see what I’m doing?”
“Why not?”
He led her outside to a frame building, a sort of garage that was also only painted with primer. “So will the primer be enough to protect the house and this? Isn’t the weather hard on them?”
“It is, but the primer will serve for now. I have to choose my priorities. There’s only me, and I must also earn what is required to fund everything. I’ll need a batch of days together to paint the place all at once, and I must do so to get the best effect.”
“But it doesn’t drive you crazy that everything’s not done?”
“What is truly worthwhile often needs patience.”
“You have a lot of it, don’t you?” She frowned. “I don’t get that. My view is that you have to grab for everything as soon as you get the chance. You never know what will disappear and never come back.”
He’d taken her hand again, and she found that she liked the sensation of his big hand swallowing hers. “Perhaps what’s available for the grabbing isn’t worth keeping,” he said. “Slow is better.”
Not to me, she was about to say when he opened the door to his—well, obviously not a garage. Tools of all sizes and descriptions were placed strategically around the floor or arranged on the walls. “Wow. What is all this?”