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“Hey, Dave,” Jordan said.
“Are you and Rayma back together? Are you back in Victoria?”
“I’m back in Victoria,” Jordan replied. “Was transferred to the Esquimalt RCMP. And as for the other question well … I’m working on that.”
Mr. Gurpreet chuckled. “Well, we’re rooting for you. Nita and the kids missed having you around, and the guys Rayma has been seeing are just … well …”
Rayma was across her suite and flinging open the door faster than the flick of a frog’s tongue. “What kind of gossip talk show is going on out here?” she pressed, glaring at Mr. Gurpreet and Jordan who was cradling a pineapple in the crook of one arm. She was only human and the memory of their inside joke about pineapples had a grin desperately wanting to pull at her lips. She told her mouth to behave and keep scowling.
Jordan grinned like a cocky fool at her, but Mr. Gurpreet managed to look a little sheepish.
“Sorry, Rayma,” Mr. Gurpreet said. “I didn’t know you were home.”
“I did,” Jordan said, still smiling that infuriating grin that was doing all kinds of things to her belly. Damn him. He held out the pineapple. “A peace offering.”
She looked back to Mr. Gurpreet. “Jordan was just leaving and he’s taking his pineapple with him.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“You sure as fuck were. I have nothing to say to you.”
“But I have a lot to say to you.”
“Well, write me a letter, take it to the post office, and put it in the slot. Then when it arrives in five days, I can burn it.”
Mr. Gurpreet’s light brown eyes went wide. “Uh … I’m going to leave you two to sort out whateverthisis.” He slapped Jordan on the shoulder. “Good to see you, Jordan.” Then he flicked his gaze to Rayma. “Go easy on him. And I just came down to relay a message, Nita wants to know if you would like some saag. She’s preparing it now.”
Rayma nodded enthusiastically. “Have I ever said no to Nita’s food? Even after I’ve eaten an entire turkey dinner, I will still eat Nita’s food. I have grown a spare stomach just for her food.”
Mr. Gurpreet chuckled. “All right, I’ll send one of the kids down with it when it’s finished.” Mr. Gurpreet lifted his chin at Jordan, then disappeared around the house back to the front.
Rayma glared at Jordan and thankfully, he had the decency to let his grin slip a little. His gaze also drifted down to his feet for a second. Yeah, he knew he was in deep shit. “Can we talk?” he asked, lifting his head to look at her again.
“No.”
“Rayma, come on … Let me apologize for the other night, for the last several years, for not telling you I was back. Please?”
“I don’t care, Jordan. You’ve moved on, and so have I. There’s nothing to apologize for.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorjamb feigning disinterest.
“Then if I have nothing to apologize for, why are you so damn mad at me?” He tipped up a brow at her in a challenge.
Her own gaze narrowed at him. “Maybe I just don’t like you anymore. I find you annoying, repulsive, and … ugly.”
That smug smile was back. “No, you don’t.”
“Sure as fuck do, Lassie. Now get off my property before I call the cops on you. And take your stupid pineapple with you.”
“If you do call the cops, tell them Lassie says hi.”
She growled. “What the fuck do you want, Jordan? What can I do to get you out of my sight the fastest?”
“Invite me in and listen to me.”
She shook her head and made anerrrtsound like a buzzer for a wrong answer. “Friends, lovers, and family are the only ones permitted into my domicile, remember? You are none of the above.”
“What about a former lover?”
“Nope.”
