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“Damn, Jordan, you’re becoming poetic. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if this is how she makes you feel, then go get her.”
“That’s more complicated.”
“Why? You’re a catch.”
He scoffed. “She wouldn’t think so.”
“You’ll find the way. You always do.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now we have work to do.”
After hanging up, Jordan called Luke. He would tell him, consult with him. But Luke didn’t pick up.
“Shift. Crazy. Can’t talk. Urgent or tomorrow good?” his brother texted.
“Tomorrow’s fine,” he texted back.
He went to bed later, his last text being, “Thinking of your smile,” which he sent to the woman whose smile could warm him in this cold even from three thousand miles away.
