Jealousy?
No way.
"If you mean am I interested in him because he's now one of Nicole's guardians, then yes, I'm interested." She didn't know why she felt the need to reassure him. Jordan wasn't the type of man who needed to be reassured about anything. "If you meant something different, then you'd be mistaken."
"Are you sure about that?" He backed her toward the counter and trapped her efficiently with only the presence of his powerful body. Then he dipped his head and ran his nose up the length of her neck.
Chills drifted down her back and reawakened the girls in the basement, who were suddenly standing at attention. She said, "Positively certain," even though she wasn't positive of anything other than she wanted her hands all over his hard muscles.
He lifted his head and smiled. "Good."
Good?
There had been times in her life, when Lucy questioned a man's words and the meaning behind them. "You stupid bitch" had been one she'd never had to clarify. "Good," in this case, perplexed her enough to step into the big pile of doo to which they were most likely headed.
"I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean by 'good.' "
"Then let me make this real simple." The sparkle in his eyes spelled trouble. "Because I like to be clear about things. Especially if it comes down to being in competition with my own brother."
"Apparently you're not making it simple enough," she said. "Competition for what?"
"For you, Lucy."
Something turned over inside Jordan when Lucy blushed. And that something wasn't quite what he'd expected.
"Don't be ridiculous." She grabbed the bottle of wine and headed into the living room. Ziggy followed close on the heels of her bare feet.
Jordan followed too.
"I'm not the kind of girl men fight over," she said as she made her way toward the sofa. "It's okay. Believe me, I'm fine with that. And please don't tease me."
Her clenched jaw and wide eyes made something tighten in his chest. Someone had done a number on her. Or maybe a lot of someones. Including him. God, he could kick his seventeen-­year-­old self's ass right now.
"Tease you?" He held up his hands, careful not to slosh wine onto the floor. "Only in a good way. But if you think you're not the kind of woman men would fight over, we need to have a serious talk. Because you are definitely that kind of woman."
Expression now passive as though she didn't believe him, she sat down on the sofa, tucked her legs up, and pulled Nicole's paper onto her lap. "As much as I'd like to continue this exchange-­please note the sarcasm in my tone-­I'd much prefer to get back to the reason I called you here. Your sister's future. You do remember that was my original intent, don't you? And not all these deviations in subject matter?"
"What I remember is how good your lips felt on mine and how good you feel in my arms." Intrigued, Jordan sat beside her, sipped his wine, and wondered what it would take to get Lucy to let down her hair. Literally and figuratively. "But I can assure you that my sister's welfare is never far from my mind."
"Then let's discuss the next steps toward helping guide her toward a bright future."
"You mean so we don't have to talk about you?"
Her dark eyes turned even darker. "As much as I appreciate the compliment-­"
"You'd prefer to keep the conversation about my sister."
"Yes. So if staying on task is something you feel unable to do, please say so now. I can always contact one of Nicole's other guardians for help in this matter."
"Not an option." And only because he didn't want it to be. Any one of his brothers could handle this issue. But rediscovering Lucy after all these years was like finding the diamond in a stack of coal. And there was no way in hell he intended to share.
The realization rattled him.
Even though his friends called him cynical when it came to relationships, he'd been happy with the way his life had been going. He thought of himself as a realist-­frugal of the heart and lifestyle. By choice he lived in an apartment near Charlotte instead of an expensive house on Lake Norman. He drove a Range Rover instead of a Maserati. And most nights he cooked at home instead of dining at five-­star restaurants. He'd been brought up in a pennywise environment and he still tended to live that way. Not that he was cheap by any means; he had the money and could splurge at any given moment. He just had a healthy respect for the hard-­hitting way he earned a living.
At the age of thirty-­three, he realized his days on the ice were numbered. Most likely he had a couple more years, and then he'd have to find something else to do. He'd like to live out the rest of his life comfortably without worrying whether he'd have enough to pay the rent. In the future he wanted to invest in a business. And at some point, he'd like to come home to a wife and family.