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“Thank you.” I glance down at the plastic wrap covering the rosy-pink orchid on the inside of my wrist.
“Don’t mention it.” He drags his gaze to his nephew. “See you at home later?”
Jordan nods and gives his uncle a man-hug, carefully avoiding the left side of his chest. “Thanks, Manny.”
Back in the Jeep, Jordan turns my wrist over and gently smooths his fingertips over the fresh ink. “Will you tell me what this symbolizes?”
“Maybe.” I grin.
“Fair enough.” He relinquishes my arm and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “What should we do next? Your choice.”
Our trip to the tattoo shop stirred up more questions than answers, and curiosity gets the best of me. “You live with your aunt and uncle?”
“I do.” He nods solemnly but doesn’t elaborate.
I trace the delicate flower on my wrist. Symbolism aside, Manny did a wonderful job capturing the way the petals open as if inviting the sunshine in. Inviting Jordan in.
A spark of determination surges in me, and I release a slow breath. “Will you show me where you live?”
Jordan’s head swivels in my direction. He raises his eyebrows, a question in his gaze and a curious tilt to his lips. “You want to go to my house?”
“If that’s okay,” I whisper, fear of rejection twisting my stomach into knots.
“It’s more than okay. But Kennedy . . .” His smoldering gaze burns a path straight to my soul. “I don’t have a PlayStation, so no playing Guitar Hero in my bedroom.”
My voice trembles as I laugh. “Do I look like I’m interested in playing video games with you?”
“Just wanted to be clear.” His gaze locks on mine, as if plucking out my thoughts like loose threads.
I blow out a breath. “I want to get to know you better. No other guys to distract us. No Nicole interrupting every five minutes. Just us.”
He kisses me—just a quick peck on the lips. “Let’s go.”
Then he pulls out of the parking lot and accelerates toward Main Street.
My stomach flutters as we take turns stealing glances across the center console. Jordan tugs on one of my curls, wrapping it around his finger as he winds through town, passing the Beanery and the Stardust Diner before leaving the city limits.
A few miles past the duck pond, we turn into one of the newer subdivisions at the edge of the county. The lots are huge—at least three football field lengths between every home. The actual houses are a mixed bag of architectural styles, ranging from traditional to modern, but nearly every one is twice the size of the suburban two-story Colonial I grew up in.
At the end of the cul-de-sac, Jordan turns down a long driveway, and my mouth goes dry as we pull in front of a sprawling modern stone and glass structure that looks like it belongs on the cover of Architectural Digest.
Jordan cuts the engine and shifts in his seat to face me. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather—”
Before I lose my nerve, I lean across the center and crush my lips to his.
Jordan goes perfectly still. He doesn’t take as much as a single breath for a full heartbeat while I continue my unprovoked assault on his mouth. Then he groans—a rough sound that comes from the depths of his chest—and his hands slide into my hair, tangling in my wild curls and pulling me closer as he deepens the kiss.
His tongue flicks out, sweeping my bottom lip, as if begging for entry, and I comply, opening my mouth to him, greeting his tongue with mine. He tastes like cinnamon rolls, coffee, and forever—and I’m already this close to giving myself to him if he’s willing.
My pulse quickens, the leather seats groaning under my weight as I all but crawl over the gearshift and halfway into his lap.
Before I can demand that he take my virginity in the front seat of his car, Jordan breaks the kiss, stroking my cheek with his thumb as he rests his forehead against mine.
Breathing heavily, he gazes into my eyes, and his swollen lips curve into a sly grin. “I guess that’s a no to going somewhere else?”
I laugh—all nerves and uncertainty.
“Let’s go inside,” he whispers, his voice rough.
