Brave the Heat (6 page)

“Yeah, well, you know all those flowers are gonna die if you keep that door open while you’re
looking
. The way you’re fogging up that glass it looks like we should be keeping hothouse flowers in there.”

“Did you need Jordan for something, Cookie?” Gavin asked with thinly veiled impatience. Hands back in his pockets, he took a step away from Jordan. “Or do you merely excel at crappy timing?”

“Sorry, Chief.” Cookie’s short purple-and-blue hair stuck out in a hundred different directions, and she winked when she peeked out from behind the swinging door. She reminded Jordan of a fairy from the stories she read to her daughters. Her tiny delicate frame, fair skin, and mischievous grin added to the girl’s fae-like appearance. “It’s a gift.”

“That’s not what I would call it,” he grumbled.

“The delivery should be here by seven or so.” Jordan shot Gavin a warning glance before grabbing the bucket with the yellow roses and heading over to the counter.
Space
, she thought.
We
need
a
little
space
to
keep
things
clear.
“Maddy’s been here to meet the deliveries most mornings, but I told her I can be here for the one on Sunday. The woman hasn’t had a minute to rest with all the summer renters coming into town this week. The girls don’t have camp on Sunday, but they can come to the store with me.”

“Cool.” Cookie smirked and looked from Jordan to Gavin. “Way cool.”

“Bye, Cookie.” Gavin waved. “See ya later.”

“Right.” The girl stepped behind the door so Gavin wouldn’t see her and gave Jordan two thumbs up before it swung shut.

Jordan’s face heated with embarrassment. Gavin strolled casually around the store while she made quick work of wrapping up a dozen roses. A smile played at her lips; she did remember that they were Mrs. McGuire’s favorite flower. Gavin’s mom always had them around the house in the summertime. She used to tell Jordan that sunny blooms could pretty up even the darkest places. Not that the McGuire house needed any of that. It was the happiest, brightest, and most loving home Jordan had ever been in and one she wanted to emulate with her own daughters.

Even if she wasn’t a McGuire.

Gavin stared out the windows to the street, and a lump formed in Jordan’s throat because she wasn’t a McGuire—and she never would be. Divorced with two little girls and enough emotional baggage to sink a ship, she was not exactly a catch. She was not the kind of woman who would marry into that family. No way. Gavin deserved someone far less complicated than she was. That ship had sailed, and no matter how many do-overs they gave each other, nothing could erase the past.

“Here you go,” Jordan said without looking up. She placed the paper-wrapped bouquet on the counter. “A dozen yellow roses.”

Gavin strode over slowly, the sound of his rubber-soled boots on the tile announcing his approach. She saw that lopsided, dimpled grin out of the corner of her eye while she punched the sale into the register. Jordan didn’t look him in the eye even though she wanted to. The swirl of emotions and physical sensations she was feeling were fogging up her head the way they had fogged up the glass of the refrigerator door.

“Her birthday is tomorrow.”

“Oh, right. You needed these tomorrow. I suppose you’ll want them delivered.” Jordan’s cheeks heated. She grabbed the bouquet but stilled when Gavin’s hand swiftly covered her own. Her heart hammered in her chest as the warmth of his skin spread over hers. Licking her lower lip, she whispered, “I-I guess I forgot to ask you that.”

“Things happen.” Gavin’s voice was tight and serious. Strong fingers curled around hers and squeezed, but Jordan slipped her hand from his. His features hardened when she took a step back. “Right. Well, maybe too many things have happened.”

“Maybe,” Jordan whispered. Folding her arms over her breasts, she met his challenging stare with one of her own. “Life isn’t a game of kickball, Gavin. We can’t yell ‘do-over’ and make everything go away. We’re not kids anymore. I’m not a kid. For goodness’ sake, I
have
kids and they have to be my top priority.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Gavin bit out. His jaw clenched again and his brows furrowed, casting a shadow over his face. “We aren’t kids anymore, but hiding behind yours won’t change anything either.”

Anger fired up her back, and her hands curled into fists. He could call her anything he wanted, but she would be damned if he would accuse her of using her children to avoid him. She was trying to protect them from any more upheaval in their lives, and jumping back into a romantic relationship with Gavin could be dangerous. They all needed some calm after the storm, and her feelings for Gavin were anything but calm.

“How dare you?” Jordan seethed. “I am not hiding behind my children. I am trying to do what’s best for them and give them some semblance of a normal life. You have no idea the kind of turmoil we’ve had in our lives.”

“Lots of people get divorced, Jordan.” Gavin’s tone softened. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Maybe not.” Her mouth set in a tight line. She’d figured it was only a matter of time before he found out. Even though it shouldn’t, being divorced made her feel like a failure. “I’ve got too much going on right now and too many changes in my life to get my head all screwed up by getting involved with
this
.” She gestured back and forth between the two of them. “I have to focus on helping my girls adjust to their new home, to say nothing of what’s happening with my mother. It’s too complicated. I can’t afford the risk that would be involved.”

Silence hung heavily in the air, and for a second, she thought he was going to tell her to go to hell or call her out for being the coward she knew she was being. To her great surprise, he did neither. He studied her intently while holding his ground.

“How’s your dad doing?” Gavin asked in the mother of all subject changes. His cell phone beeped in his pocket, and after checking it quickly, he hit a button and turned his attention right back to her. “I heard he’s in bad shape.”

It took her a second to find her voice. One minute they were talking about them, and the next he was asking about her father. Jordan had been away for over a decade, but that wasn’t long enough for her to forget how much Gavin loathed her father. Not that she could blame him; she wasn’t too fond of her father herself.

“His body finally caught up with his spirit.” Jordan stilled, feeling off-kilter from the abrupt change in subject. She leaned on the counter, hoping it would keep her from shaking. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or sad that Gavin had dropped the whole do-over conversation. “He was broken inside for years and now the outside finally matches it.” She nibbled her lower lip and let out a slow breath. “Anyway, tomorrow after I see to the delivery, I promised my mom I’d come out to the house with the girls.”

“You haven’t seen him yet? I’m surprised. I mean you’ve been here for two weeks.” Gavin stepped closer to the counter. “Have you seen your mom?”

“Yes. My mom’s been out to the cottage the girls and I are renting—”

“The Sweeneys’ old place.” Gavin’s lips tilted and a mischievous glint flickered in his eyes. “Out by the lighthouse on Shore Road.”

“Right.” Jordan’s heart squeezed in her chest. “By the old lighthouse.”

Their
lighthouse
. Her face flushed at the memory of the first and only time they’d had sex. Their lovemaking had been sweet, tentative, and driven by the eager passion of inexperienced youth. The only other lover she’d ever had was Ted, and even calling him a lover was generous. That night with Gavin was the only time she could truly say she had made love with someone.

Needing to do something other than simmer beneath his stare, Jordan cleaned up the bits of stem and paper that were littering the glass surface.

“Anyway, she’s been out to my place to visit with the girls. She can only come when the nurse is at the house with my father, but no, I haven’t been out to see him yet. I’ve been avoiding it as long as I can. Anyway, I promised her I’d come to the house tomorrow to see him.”

“What time?” Gavin took a step to the left and loomed in front of her, forcing her to deal with him.

“The delivery truck usually gets here at seven.” Jordan continued wiping down the counter. “But it’s a Sunday, so—”

“Not that.” Gavin’s hand covered hers, instantly bringing her cleaning to a halt. His thumb brushed along the edge of her palm, and a slow burn crackled in her belly as his flesh slid sweetly over hers. Jordan lifted her eyes to his, and that slow burn erupted into a full-on flame. “What time are you going to your mom’s place?”

As she held his stare, confusion and lust fired through her. She stood taller and reveled in the comfortable weight of Gavin’s fingers curled around hers. This time she didn’t pull away. It felt too good, too right, and achingly familiar.

His fingertips trailed along hers, sending shivers up her spine and making all the little hairs on her arm stand at attention. Licking her lower lip, Jordan sucked in a shuddering breath and fought to find her suddenly absent voice.

“Nine.”

“So, how about if I meet you and the girls here around a quarter to?”

“You want to come with me to my parents’ house?” she asked with more than a little surprise and confusion. “What? Why?”

“You haven’t seen your old man in over fifteen years, and he’s still a son of a bitch. I don’t care how sick he is, I don’t think you and the girls should go there alone.”

“I’ll be okay,” she said through a nervous laugh, not even convincing herself. “The man is bedridden, for heaven’s sake. Besides, don’t you have to work?”

“I’m off tomorrow.” He grinned. “One of the benefits of being the chief is having Monday through Friday hours. But I’m always on call, so I’ll have the radio if a call comes in that they need me for.”

“He can’t hurt me anymore, Gavin.” Jordan’s voice wavered, and even she didn’t believe that was true. “He’s dying.”

“I know.” Bringing her hand to his mouth, he brushed his lips over her knuckles and kissed them gently. Her stomach flip-flopped from the brief contact that carried a wallop. “But he can still talk, can’t he?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“I’ve got your back, Jordan.” Gavin lowered her hand to the glass counter and squeezed her fingers before releasing them. “Regardless of what went down between us, you were my friend long before anything else. I’m not letting you and your daughters go there alone.”

Jordan stood behind the counter utterly speechless and feeling like a quivering pile of jelly. A combination of surprise and relief swirled through her. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she felt much better knowing that Gavin was going to be there with her.

This man, the one she hadn’t seen or spoken to in over a decade, expressed more kindness and concern for Jordan and her daughters than Ted had in the ten years they’d been married. She was still shaking when Gavin put a twenty on the counter before scooping up the flowers and heading to the door.

“Gavin?” She stilled. “Why?” she asked quietly. “Why would you do this for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he countered.

“Are you going to answer all of my questions with a question?” Jordan tried to squelch the grin that bubbled up, but to no avail. Gavin always could make her smile, even if she was annoyed with him. It was both charming and infuriating; at the moment it was charming as all get out. “The girls—” She stopped herself and said, “We’ve all been through the wringer and—”

“So why don’t you tell me about it?”

“It’s complicated, Gavin.” She let out a slow breath and her shoulders sagged, the fight going right out of her. “Far too complicated to rehash here in the store.”

“You’re right. There’ll be plenty of time for talking later. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said with a wink. “And tell Lily that I’ll have my regular-person truck. If she gets Gracie to talk to me, I might even let ’em turn on the lights.”

Flowers in hand, Gavin strode out of the store. He jogged across the street toward the station while Jordan stood there like a stunned sheep. Her body still tingled from the feel of his lips on her flesh, and her head swam from his unexpected and certainly undeserved kindness.

She had been prepared for him to hate her. That was what she’d expected, and in many ways that would have made her homecoming easier. If he hated her, then there wouldn’t be anything to talk about. He’d have his life and she’d have hers.

End of story.

Until an hour ago, she’d thought her future was clearly laid out, and there would be no escaping the mistakes of her past. It looked like she was wrong—again.

The future, unlike the past, was yet to be written.

Gavin stepped into the mudroom adjacent to the bright, sunny kitchen of his childhood home and was instantly greeted by the stomach-rumbling aroma of his mother’s famous chocolate chip oatmeal cookies. A Beatles tune flowed from the Bose radio that sat on the windowsill above the sink. His parents were side-by-side washing pots and pans, and singing along with Paul and the rest of the boys in the band. He couldn’t help but grin at the way they still, after so many years, loved being around each other.

His smile fell when his father reached around and squeezed his mom’s butt.

“You two are worse than a couple of teenagers,” Gavin groaned. “If I’d come in any later, who knows what I would have walked in on?”

“Tough noogies.” His mother kept her hands in the sink and didn’t even turn around, but she wiggled her butt at him. “You’re lucky we have clothes on.”

“She’s not wrong,” his father sang. He glanced over his shoulder at Gavin and waggled his salt-and-pepper brows. “All kinds of fun happens around here now that we live alone.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Gavin groaned. “Don’t gross me out. I haven’t had dinner yet. It was my night to cook at the station, and you know I don’t eat my own cooking.” He strode up to the granite island in the middle of the sunny yellow-and-white kitchen, and his eyes widened when he spotted a massive plate of cookies. “I think I should get a cookie to help me get over seeing Dad grab your butt.”

“Hold it right there, mister.” Before he could snag one, his mother’s hand came out of nowhere and swatted his away. “Didn’t you just say you hadn’t had dinner yet?”

Gavin grinned widely and held out the bouquet of yellow roses. “Will you accept a bribe?”

“Yellow roses.” His mother’s light green eyes widened and she flashed that million-dollar smile. “My favorite!”

Scooping his mother up in a big bear hug, he kissed her soft, plump cheek. “Happy birthday a day early, Mom.”

“You’re such a sweet boy.” She sighed. Taking the flowers over to the counter, she waved at her husband. “Charles, you be a good man and go get me a vase from the china closet.”

“Which one?”

“The tall Waterford one that your mother gave us for our first wedding anniversary.”

“Sure. That was only a hundred years ago. How am I supposed to remember which one that is?” Gavin’s dad rolled his eyes and shrugged. Strolling past Gavin he whispered, “You know I won’t get the right one, and she’s gonna make me go back ten times. I don’t know why the woman doesn’t get it herself.”

“I can hear you,” she sang as she snipped the ends of the stems. “Unlike you, I am not half-deaf. It’s on the bottom of the closet on the right-hand side.”

Smirking at their familiar banter, Gavin sat on one of the wooden stools at the island before grabbing a cookie and gobbling it down in two bites. A glass of milk appeared in front of him, and his mother gave him a knowing look.

“Not that I’m not thrilled to have my favorite flower for my birthday,” she said, arching one brow. “But—”

“This one?”

Gavin stifled a laugh. His father stood behind him in the arched doorway to the living room holding up two crystal vases which, based on the look on his mother’s face, were both wrong.

“No.” She sighed with exasperation. “The bottom
right
side.”

He could hear his father muttering as he left the room, which elicited an eye roll from his mother.

“What was I saying? Oh yes, the flower shop.” She placed two more cookies on a plate and pushed it to Gavin before making quick work of putting away the rest. “Your choice of birthday gift wouldn’t happen to be due to the recent return of a certain young lady who is working at said flower shop, would it?”

“It might,” Gavin said around a mouthful of cookie before washing it down with a hearty gulp of milk. “Is that a problem?”

“Not for me,” she said with a shrug. Peering at him over her glasses, she arched one brow. “How is Jordan doing? I heard she and her girls rented the Sweeneys’ old place down on the beach. Her mother told me Jordan got divorced a few months ago.”

“Jeez,” Gavin grumbled. “Did everyone know about this except for me?”

“Probably,” his mother said casually.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Why would I?” she asked innocently. “If I recall correctly, the last time I brought up her name, you bit my head off and told me it was ancient history. Or was that another one of my sons named Gavin?”

“Sorry.” He let out a sigh. “Well, to answer your question, she’s exactly the same.” He ate the last bit of chocolate chip goodness. “She’s still gorgeous and stubborn as hell.”

“Yes, well, you’re one to talk.” Trimming off the thorns, she huffed. “If stubborn were an Olympic sport, you’d have the gold medal.”

Gavin wiped his mouth with the paper napkin and avoided his mother’s inspecting stare. She sure did have his number. He and his brothers never got away with much because his mom always seemed to know what was going on. It was uncanny.

“So?” Wiping the excess water off the counter, she continued her inquiry. “How was it?”

“Is this it?” His dad emerged with an ornate crystal vase that, as far as Gavin was concerned, looked exactly like the two he’d brought out before. “It was on the bottom right.”

“Yes, thank you.” She took it from him, and he planted a kiss on her cheek.

“No extra charge for kisses.” His dad winked and smacked her on the butt again. “Or that.”

“Stop being fresh,” she said. “Gavin was telling me about his visit with Jordan.”

“Oh yeah.” His dad leaned on the counter and nodded. “I heard she was back in town; I’m not surprised. Old Brookfield is always home. Besides that, her father is on his way out.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” Gavin grumbled.

“Gavin Charles McGuire,” his mother huffed. “That is unkind.”

“Yeah? Well, so is her old man.”

“He’s not wrong,” murmured his father.

“Be that as it may, I don’t want to hear you all say things like that.” She fluffed the arrangement of roses.

His mother’s intelligent greenish-gray eyes peered at him from between the yellow blooms, and he was instantly reduced to feeling like a five-year-old. He fought the urge to squirm on the stool.

“He’s a dying old man, Gavin, and I think it’s wonderful that Jordan came home to make peace with him. Not for him but for herself. Besides, I know her mother has been itching to have her and the girls back in town. Poor woman hasn’t even been able to get to know her grandchildren. Can you imagine?”

“I can’t believe Jordan wants to see the old son of a bitch again.” Anger shimmied up Gavin’s back. “How could she forgive him after the way he treated her?”

“I’m not talking about forgiveness for him, Gavin.” Her voice softened. “It’s about Jordan. You can’t undo the past, but you certainly can make peace with it in order to have a happier future.”

Gavin nodded slowly while holding his mother’s knowing gaze. Why did he think she was talking about
more
than Jordan and her father?

“Now, Charles, please take these lovely blooms out to the table in the front hall. That way I can look at them every time I come in and out of the house.”

“Yes, dear.” His father scooped up the vase. “We have to get a move on, or we’re gonna be late for that appointment with the caterer.”

“Oh, look at the time.” His mother peered at the digital clock on the stove. “We have to be there in twenty minutes.”

“Caterer?” Gavin picked up his plate and glass with the intention of putting them in the dishwasher, but his mother beat him to it. “For what?”

“Our anniversary party.” She shut the stainless-steel door of the machine and punched a couple of buttons. Then she untied her apron and tossed it on the counter. “As you know, Daddy and I will be married forty years this August.”

“That’s a long freaking time,” Gavin said with genuine awe.

“Yes, it is, so we decided to throw ourselves a party.” She grabbed her pink purse off the little chair in the corner and murmured, “Though how it’s been that long is beyond me.”

“When?”

“Saturday the twenty-eighth of August, and it’s going to be right out here on the lawn overlooking the ocean. We’ve got a big tent rented and an eight-piece band. The whole shebang!”

“It sounds more like a wedding,” Gavin said, rising to his feet.

“Well, I can’t very well wait for one of you boys to get married, now can I?” She scooted around the corner of the granite island and patted his cheek. “The rate you all are going, I’m never going to have any grandchildren. My goodness, God certainly does like to take his time. I mean, for heaven’s sake, it took me almost ten years to get pregnant with you. But then look at what we got. Five boys! I can only imagine how many grandchildren we’ll
eventually
have. If waiting all those years to have my children taught me anything, it’s to have patience and have faith. But you boys aren’t getting any younger…”

“Mom,” Gavin groaned.

“Oh stop it, I’m only teasing.” She waved her hand in the air and swept past him toward the living room. “Anyway, save the date for the party. Speaking of the flower shop, I told Maddy what we’re looking for, and she already gave a preliminary list to Veronica and Cookie. I’m sure they’ll put together some lovely centerpieces. If you happen to see Jordan again, let her know I’ll be in on Monday to confirm everything.”

“I’m…going to see her tomorrow actually.”

“Really?” She lingered in the doorway and adjusted the purse on her arm. “Getting me more flowers?”

“No.” Gavin shuffled his feet and stuck his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Like I said, she’s going out to see her old man and I offered to go with her.”

The smile on his mother’s lips widened slightly and that knowing twinkle glinted in her eyes.

“It’s not like that,” Gavin insisted. “She was my friend before anything else, and I don’t trust that old SOB. Hell, she hasn’t seen him or spoken to him in fifteen years.”

“Whatever you say, Gavin.” His mother waved as she left. “Close the door on your way out.”

Gavin let himself out the side door of the kitchen. Thoughts of Jordan stayed on his mind. Once he’d set eyes on her again in the shop and gotten close enough to breathe in her scent, Gavin had about lost his mind. Any anger or bitterness he’d felt vanished. Memories of their night in the lighthouse. Stolen kisses under the bleachers. The smell of her skin, the soft, velvety feel of it as it rushed beneath his fingers. Damn. What he wouldn’t give to touch her like that again.

To love her.

He’d offered to go with her to her parents’ place without thinking about it. He couldn’t bear the idea of her and those two little girls being in the presence of such an ugly, angry man. Offering to go along had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. And that probably made him crazy or stupid, because Jordan was right.

They did have things to talk about—lots of things—and he had a bunch of unanswered questions for her. But staring into those deep, soulful eyes of hers, all he could think about was keeping her safe. Jordan’s old man wasn’t a danger to her physically anymore, but words could still carry a hell of a punch. His need to protect Jordan was as strong and deep-seated today as it had been fifteen years ago.

His mind drifted to their fight at the lighthouse. He’d acted like a macho, overbearing dickhead, but that was because he’d been scared—not for her, but for himself. The ironic part was that he’d said all that stuff because he didn’t want to lose her. In the end, that’s exactly what had happened.

As he made his way across his parents’ sprawling lawn toward his cottage, the fresh ocean air filled his head. The feel of it helped him push aside those uncomfortable memories. Growing up here was a blessing and a curse; no other place on earth could hold a candle to their family home on the bluff. He’d been stationed around the world during his ten years in the military, but nowhere even came close to the beauty and serenity of Old Brookfield.

The sun started to set, the sky burning in bright hues of orange and pink along the horizon. The lighthouse and the little row of houses lay below along the strip of sandy beach beneath the bluff. The Sweeneys’ gray saltbox cottage was a few houses away from the lighthouse, the one with the long gravel driveway. The house had been empty for the past two years. But not anymore. For the first time in a long time, it was alive inside.

Staring at the shoreline, Gavin couldn’t help but smile. At the moment, he and that damn house had a lot in common.

* * *

Jordan double- and triple-checked the delivery list against what had come in, while the girls colored quietly at a table in the back room. She’d checked the list when the guys unloaded everything into the cold storage room, but going over it again couldn’t hurt. It would also keep her mind off the fact that Gavin would be arriving any minute.

She tapped the pencil against her chin and stared at the steel door of the refrigerated storage room. As with the delivery, she’d gone over yesterday’s experience with Gavin countless times; she’d had a hell of a time falling asleep last night.