Without thought I stride out into the lobby, holding the extravagant flower arrangement up, like I’m showing it off. “Thank you for the flowers, Jordan.”
His eyes widen slightly when he spots me and Lena takes a step away from him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “You’re welcome. They’re—”
“Huge?” I smile, my gaze going from him to Lena. “Yes, they are.”
“I hope you like them.” His beautiful blue eyes are only for me.
“She loves them,” Lena gushes for me, sending me a look. One I can’t really interpret.
“They’re gorgeous!” Rhonda calls from her spot at the front desk.
I have a total audience here. We need to go, stat.
“You ready?” he asks, like he knows how much I want to bail.
The smile I send him is full of relief. He’s once again my knight in shining armor. “Yes, let’s go.”
We walk out of the building, Rhonda and Lena’s loud goodbyes still ringing in my ears. I know I’m going to he
ar from Lena later. She’ll probably apologize for not believing me when I told her I was the one who broke up with him, and then she’ll lay it on thick about how handsome and wounded he is. Because he is. Handsome.
And wounded.
Makes me crazy because I’m the one who wounded him.
“You want me to carry those?” Before I can even answer, Jordan is grabbing the vase from me, ridiculously sexy carrying a giant assortment of flowers while wearing a dark gray henley shirt, jeans and rugged boots. He’s got that sexy city lumberjack thing down well. All he needs is a beard. “Your friend seems nice.”
“She’s very nice,” I agree. “She didn’t believe me when I told her I broke up with you.”
“Why not?” He veers right and I follow after him.
“Most people don’t believe me when I tell them.” He appears surprised and I shrug. “They all think you’re the one who dumped me.”
“Yeah. Not the case though, right?” He actually chuckles.
“I heard you tell her I broke your heart.” When he glances over at me, I try my best to look mad. Because I am, damn it. He shouldn’t admit those kinds of things out loud, to other people, even if it is the truth. “Why would you say that?”
He shrugs those impossibly broad shoulders of his. “It’s the truth.”
I want to hit him. I also want to hug him. The conflicting emotions swirling within me battle it out, my brain fully engaged in the struggle. What do I say to that, how does he expect me to respond? He’s acting like it’s no big deal now, so maybe I should do the same.
“There’s my car,” he says, and we both come to a stop, my mouth hanging open.
He’s driving a Range Rover. Still. He had one in high school, and we had many moments in that car. Most of them awesome teenage experiences, if you know what I mean.
The new one is silver, and it’s gorgeous. I turn to look at him and find he’s already watching me, the first real smile on his face since we’ve started talking again.
Seeing him look so happy steals my breath, and I just stare at him for a long moment, wallowing in the beauty that is Jordan Tuttle’s face.
“A Range Rover, huh?” I finally ask, my voice teasing.
He shrugs again, hits the keyless remote, and the car lights flash, the doors unlocking. “Old habits die hard.”
“Oh yeah?” What’s he saying? Am I an old habit he can’t kick?
“Yeah.” He makes his way to the passenger side and opens the door for me so I can slip inside. “Once I find something I like, I tend to stick with it. Not like some people I know.”
My mouth falls open once again, my brain scrambling.