Authors: Melissa Gaye Perez
Jordan Scott. A handsome strong willed man with the deepest emerald eyes that sometimes seemed to change shades of green with the mood he was in. He had a body that he strode with confidence and he learned early in his youth he could charm the ladies with a simple gaze and a flash of his lazy sexy grin.
“You sure seem gloomy for a man who just qualified for such a big race,” Martin insinuated as they hopped up on two bar stools at the club. They leaned their elbows on the counter and waited for the bartender to serve them.
“Just a little worried. It's the biggest run I've had in a while ya know. Don't wanna screw it up, that's all.”
“Jordan Scott...worried? Ha! You know what you need pal? A woman. A woman to settle your nerves. You spend too damn much time working on that house of yours. Get out and find some real action,” Martin chuckled out just before slurping on his ale.
Jordan gruffly laughed back at his rust headed friend. Martin always believed in fast cars and fast women. A different one every night if he were to have his choice about it. They drank rather quickly while they chatted.
Not Jordan. Dedicated race fanatic building his own little dream house on the Florida beach front property his dad left him when he died just three years earlier.
“I'll never finish my house if I start living like you do,” Jordan let out with a deep chuckle. “Besides, I'm happy just the way I am. Nobody telling me shit about how to run my life or where and when I can get up and go,” he replied, then finished his beer and laughed out loud, sat the bottle down and glanced to his now near drunken friend.
“When are you gonna finish that house anyway?” Martin asked in a slur.
“Living in it now. Nearly done except for a few odd and in touch ups here and there. Come on out later and see for yourself if you want.”
“Just may do,” Martin slurred back then he finished off another bottle and slid it across the counter toward the bartender.
“Gotta run for now,” Jordan then stated as he rose from the bar stool. “Big day tomorrow remember? I need all the rest I can get.” He pulled his body from the bar stool and headed for the door.
Jordan had a confident look to him that turned plenty of female heads but he never could imagine himself tied down to just one woman. He was a free spirit and preferred to keep it that way as long as possible.
Martin had supplied Jordan with plenty of dates over the years that he had gladly obliged and enjoyed the nights in female companionship but he never could settle down with only one. He pictured himself as a life long bachelor living in his quaint Daytona beach house enjoying life as he saw fit too…alone.
Jordan returned that night to his small one bedroom trailer he pulled from track to track with his Chevy pick-up truck when traveling the racing circuit. He had won a few races in his career but was far from wealthy. He spent most of his earnings on his car and house putting as much aside as he possibly could.
He surely knows his racing career could end far quicker than it started. One blow out at the wrong moment, one bad crash and it could all be over with. But Jordan loves his wild and dangerous lifestyle and has no intentions of giving it up of his own free will.
Before turning in for the night, Jordan did his regular work out, a few sit ups and arm weights before he showered. He knows it takes plenty of strength to handle that car and Jordan's body is definitely in perfect condition to keep up. Slender build with slight rippling muscular arms and matching tanned legs.
This is one man who is not afraid to get a little grease and dirt under his nails either. Jordan does most of his own mechanical work on his car himself and sees to it that it too stays in top notch condition.
Martin again stood track side looking through the binoculars as the last lap of the race began. Not a good day for Jordan though. He trails in seventh place after a string of problems plagued him and the car all day holding him back from placing a top spot in the race.
“Next time fella, we'll get'em next time,” Martin tried to sooth semi cheerfully as a sweaty Jordan climbed from his car. But his own disappointment also showed through the fake smile he tried to possess.
“Maybe so,” Jordan sorrowfully blurted as he squinted his deep emerald eyes toward the sun and popped out a can of brew from a cooler. “I'm just looking forward to my two weeks rest at home now.”
“You deserve it buddy. We'll take care of your wheels, don't worry about a thing,” Martin assured.
Jordan later climbed in his blue Chevy truck and began his journey home to Daytona. He was a good natured guy who took defeat well knowing it's all a part of the game.
That's what keeps him going...striving to get to the top on his own. He never knows from track to track what obstacles await him or when lady luck will surely smile down upon him.
Nearly three a.m., Jordan parked his truck next to his quaint three bedroom beach house that stands tall on stilts and wearily strolled up the steep front steps onto the over-wide wooden railed porch that extended all the way across the front of the house. He stopped for a brief moment to look out and savor the blue full moon and clear star filled skies reflecting off the clear, glassy waters that were now pounding his sandy beach front property.
Letting the cool salty air blow through his wavy tresses, Jordan noticed lightening at a distance out over the water as he took one last glance over his broad shoulder, then disappeared through the sliding glass patio door into his living room.
“Looks like it's gonna be a rough night,” he said quietly as he crouched to rub his small shaggy pooch. Myron met Jordan at the door nearly every time he heard the truck approaching. Jordan gave the mutt one last pat on the head then rose to fix himself a stiff scotch.
“Did ya miss me fella? Huh?” Jordan grinned as the small brown and white mutt disappeared under the couch. “Guess not,” he chuckled then headed down the hall to his own cozy bedroom, showered and crawled lazily into his own bed.
About an hour later Jordan was awakened by Myron's squealing and the loud clapping of thunder from outside. For a second he thought he was back at the race track, but then smiled as the dog's frightful little face shivered at his feet on the bed. He slowly shook his head until he realized he was at home and a huge thunderstorm was now beating against the shore.
“What's the matter little fella? Are you actually afraid of a little thunder?” Jordan then threw back the cover and giggled at his little friend and rose to walk to the glass doors so he could peer out and see just how bad it really was.
Jordan watched for a few minutes as the lightening lit the skies like fire, enough for him to see the rough white saltwater rolling high onto the beach out front through the thick torrential looking rains. Rain was now pounding hard on the roof. Then he decided to make sure all the windows and doors were securely closed before making his way back to the bedroom and crawling back to the warmth and comfort of his own bed. Myron curled at his feet and shivered off to sleep as well.
Early the next morning Jordan arose, poured a hot cup of coffee and sat at his small round kitchen table that overlooked the beautiful view of the beach just outside. As he heard the squawking of seagulls he pulled back the curtain to take a closer look at the damages from the storm the night before.
“Turned out to be a gorgeous morning after all didn't it boy,” he asked as Myron snuck into the room.
His heavily browed deep green eyes scanned the shoreline as the sun rose, looking for an occasional bikini clad jogger. “None out this morning,” he thought as he smiled remembering Martin's suggestion that he find himself a female companion.
Fiery headed Martin Slater with his dark auburn eyes and short body. Jordan was glad to have him around most of the time. He kept Jordan's spirits up after his father's death, even though they nearly parted enemies once before.
Sometimes Jordan wished he had married for the companionship of it, but it just didn't set too well with him to think about having a woman tagging along everywhere he went. He liked being free to do as he pleased and didn't have room in his life for a steady mate telling him what he could and could not do.
Then Jordan's eyes suddenly stopped and came to rest on one dark spot at a distance on the beach. He hadn't noticed it there before and couldn't quite make out just exactly what it was. His eyes now squinting as he tried to figure it out, but there were also branches and other debris washed up from the storm.
“Probably something from a ship wreck or from last night's storm no doubt,” he figured to himself as he stared, but then decided he had best check it out anyway. He had a sudden strange sensation in his gut that made him feel uneasy about it. He wasn't sure why he felt this way but figured he had better trust his instinct.
Jordan loved scavenging the beach anyway and quite often found trinkets and lumber worth keeping. But this morning he didn't feel too excited about going out. He slid into his blue jean cut off shorts and a black sleeveless t-shirt then strolled barefoot down the stairs and toward the obstacle that had caught his curiosity.
As the sun rose a little higher and Jordan grew closer, he felt a sudden hot rush through his entire body and his breathing quickened as the soft breeze blew and he saw her hair flow gently in the wind. He realized now this was no ordinary obstacle, but a human lying motionless, face down on the beach, her body nearly covered with sand.
Jordan's powerful legs carried him faster now as he realized this was not a dream. He skidded to a stop and crouched next to her. Quickly he flipped the young lady over and felt her throat and wrists and luckily could feel a slight pulse beating, but her skin was cool and she was unconscious. Jordan used the back of his fingers to brush the sand from the sides of her cold tanned face and began to shake her gently.
No response. She was alive he knew...but motionless. Jordan looked around the beach as his strong sturdy hands kept a firm hold of the woman. No one else was to be seen. He wasn't sure now what to do.
His emerald eyes looked down on her with total confusion. He quickly scanned her lean, rather pleasant looking body then shook his head in disbelief.
“Better get you inside darling,” he finally spoke softly knowing she couldn't hear him but was near panic himself now.
Jordan quickly scooped up the blonde tanned female and carried her inside his beach house. “Get back Myron,” he ordered roughly as he kicked at the small pooch that met them at the door, barking at their new visitor. Jordan gently placed her on the couch then sped down the hall to fetch a blanket from his bed.
As he covered her, he couldn't help but to quickly scan her body again. She was wearing a royal blue one-piece bathing suit covered with a white t-shirt. He quickly covered her, brushed back the wet stringy hair from her face and tried again to awaken her. He gently tapped the sides of her face.
“Miss? Miss?” he whispered out softly, as if not to frighten her.
Still no response. Jordan then took the sides of her arms in his large hands and gently shook her once more. Finally she began to move her head from side to side and blink her baby blue eyes.
Jordan freaked again and ran to the kitchen to wet a rag in the sink, then hurried back to her side. Slowly he began to wipe her forehead and cheeks with the cool wet rag hoping this would help speed her recovery.
“Are you all right? Can you talk?” he muttered out a little unsure, but she only laid motionless, looking scared stiff as she gazed into his beautiful emerald eyes feeling she had awaken in paradise with this handsome prince staring back at her.
“Where am I?” she finally whispered out as she began to slowly scan her cozy surroundings, her eyes not stopping again until they returned and rested upon this handsome creature that was touching her face with such a warm hand. She let out a small curious grin and awaited his reply.
“I'm Jordan Scott. You washed up on my beach, I guess,” he then stated with uncertainty about anything at this moment. He stared at her trying to figure out how old she was but feeling better himself now thinking she must be okay. She looked no more than twenty or twenty-one maybe, he wasn't quite sure.
“Great legs though,” he thought remembering how her body was stretched out on the beach when he had found her.
The young lady looked tired and confused though and only stared back blankly. Finally, Jordan decided to keep questioning her. He didn't think she was sick or harmed enough to go to the hospital, so he decided he would simply find out who she was and where she lived so he could take her home. By the looks of her tanned flesh he was certain she was from somewhere close by.
“Lives just down the beach a ways,” he figured while preparing himself to take her home.
“What were you doing out there anyway? It's awful early to be taking a swim isn't it?”
Now he was trying to decide whether or not she should see a doctor after all. She was beginning to look a little pale as she stared blankly back at him. Not seeming to want to answer his questions.
“I don't...I don't know,” she muttered out as she sat up and looked around the room again. “Where did you say I was?”
“My house...in Daytona. You live around her? I can give you a lift or something if you like,” he then offered not knowing what else to do at this point. “Your family is probably worried about you by now. I'll happily drive you home,” he offered again.
“I'm not sure,” she replied as she turned and put her bare feet on the floor and crossed her arms in confusion, now shaking. Jordan could see she was suddenly scared.
“Hey...look, I just wanna help you,” he then stated, thinking that maybe she didn't trust him to drive her home. After all, he was a total stranger to her.
Then he looked at her confused scared face again and noticed she was beginning to tremble worse. He wasn't sure now if she was scared...or cold.
“Are you sure you're okay? Need a drink or something to warm you up? Scotch...vodka?” he asked motioning to his well stocked bar that lined nearly the entire rear wall of the living room. He figured maybe she just needed a few minutes to calm her nerves and gather her thoughts. Maybe then she would remember what had happened to her and who she was so he could just take her straight home to her family.
“I think I'd like that,” she murmured in her soft feminine voice, watching Jordan's every move as he rose and headed for the bar.
Now Jordan wasn't sure she was even old enough to drink, but he walked toward the bar anyway. She had clearly been through a rough ordeal of some kind. Possibly caught out on the beach during last night's thunderstorm.
She pulled the blanket over her shivering shoulders as she sat and watched this adorable yet strange man reach for a bottle of whiskey and an empty crystal glass.
“What's your desire?” he then asked holding up the glass trying to relax her.
“You'd be a nice start,” she thought for a second then answered him half grinning now. “Surprise me okay?”
She was already beginning to feel a little better as she warmed her body on the couch and cuddled under the blanket.
Jordan grinned as he poured her a stiff vodka then carried it over to her. He wasn't sure this young lady should be drinking, but could see she had clearly been through a treacherous saga of some kind. He sat on the edge of the couch facing her and leaned over her blanket covered legs as he reclined his arm on the back of the couch. She sipped the drink making a slight cringing expression at first and began feeling a little uneasy about his stare.
“Thanks. This really helps,” she shyly told him as she quickly admired his hairy powerful looking legs that now rested just next to her own.
“What's your name?” he then asked bluntly.
“Uhhh...I...uh...my name?”
“Yeah. What's your name? Or is it some big secret that you can't tell me about?” Jordan asked with slight humor.
“Well...I'm not really sure,” she answered, looking as if she were thinking really hard about it. Almost straining as she tried to remember.
“Not really sure? You're not sure if your name's a secret or not?” Jordan thought now she was playing games with him.
“No actually, I'm not sure what my name is.”
“You're not sure what you're name is,” Jordan repeated not believing her. He thought she just didn't want to tell him. “Well then, how old are you?” he then asked becoming a little agitated with the entire situation. Maybe a joke Martin was playing on him again or something. That would be typical of Martin. But he knew she was really unconscious when he found her so he quickly ruled out that possibility.
Jordan noticed her eyes beginning to turn red and swell with tears and she looked back at him with confusion. As if begging him for help now.
“Not that,” he thought nervously. He couldn't stand to see a woman cry. He began to fidget uneasily.
“Don't do that,” he quickly panicked as he grabbed a tissue from the table at the end of the couch and handed it to her.
I'm sorry,” she sniffled, trying not to cry. She could see it was making Jordan terribly uncomfortable.
“I just don't remember anything. It must be the shock or something.”
“Shock from what? Were you caught in last night's storm or something?” Jordan didn't seem too sure she was being totally honest with him.
“Storm?”
“You're joking right?”
“Uhhh...uh-uh...sorry,” she replied gasping to hold back the tears now, but was unsuccessful. Jordan appeared to be angry at her and she didn't know why.
This man didn't believe her and she knew it. Now she felt foolish and wanted to run down the beach and forget she had ever met him. But go where?
“Gee...guess you had a rougher night than I thought,” Jordan answered with a little sympathy in his voice now as he rose and walked toward the bar.
He now realized she must have amnesia and he wasn't sure what to do next. Here he was trapped in his own home with a beautiful blue-eyed blonde wearing nothing but a bathing suit and t-shirt with a fantastic body, and she doesn't even know where she is from or who she is.