He let the kiss play out, glad to connect with her on a level where they communicated so well. Angling to rest his weight on one elbow, he allowed his other hand free rein to roam along her side, upward to cup the fullness that had been tempting him all evening long. The near-immediate beading of her nipple through the fabric followed by that sweet hum of pleasure he’d been hoping to hear encouraged him.
Her slight wriggle against his thigh urged him to keep right on pursuing this path.
But the more logical strategist in him knew better.
Damn.
Reason insisted if he took the easy way out for the sex he wanted so badly, he might never understand her reasons for resisting an engagement. Without that information, he would ultimately lose. He had one window of time to finalize this deal, and no amount of killer kisses or soft sighs of approval could sway him from closing the most important transaction of his life.
Jordan eased back with a final sweep of his tongue, a last nip on her bottom lip.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s going on here? I was expecting to work my ass off for a simple quick kiss.”
She traced a fingernail along the back of his neck. “You said my swollen feet are pretty.”
Women were more complicated than any boardroom negotiation he’d ever undergone.
“Your feet are perfect, and if they’re swollen, it’s half my fault since it takes two to make a baby.”
She’d mentioned the comment her mother made. Could a drunk mother’s ridiculous throwaway comment bother such a successful, confident woman?
Of course it could. And what a strange time to notice there were no photos of her parents in the condo that he could see. In fact, the walls and mantle bore just watercolor artwork. The only photo he could find…a small photo in a silver frame on the end table. He scooped it up to find five young Garrisons on the beach, Brooke and Brittany not more than five or six. His thumb gravitated to the image of Brooke, no questioning which was her with that sneaky strand of hair sliding from her ponytail.
Brooke raked her fingernail from the back of his neck around to trail along his sore jaw. “I’m sorry my brother hit you.”
“I’m not.” He smiled in spite of himself and replaced the photo on the end table.
“That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“You’re crazy.”
“It’s a man thing. I expected it.” He shrugged off the fight and stifled a wince at his wrenched shoulder as he sat up again. He tugged Brooke to sit in the crook of his arm. “Since we’ve told the family, what do you say tomorrow we go out to dinner on our own? I’ll pick you up after work.”
“Why don’t we meet here at my place instead?” She plucked at the hem of her loose-fitting black dress. “Or we can meet at yours and dine on the balcony again.”
He frowned. “You don’t want to go out with me.”
“It’s not that.” She kept picking at the fabric, her fingers pinching a loose thread with unwavering attention. “I’m just not ready for things to be so…public.”
Jordan walled off his impatience. He was starting to learn that while this Garrison had a reputation for being less confrontational than the rest, she was still every bit as stubborn in her own way. “What sort of timetable do you have for telling the rest of the world this is my baby?”
“I’ll know when it’s right.” She finally snapped the stray thread on her dress and pulled a tight smile.
He could already see how much the thought of making this decision was torturing her. Informing her family had taken her months. Taking him to dinner had left her pale, her hands clammy and her feet puffy.
How much more stress would it bring her figuring out how to tell her workmates and the rest of South Beach about their relationship? Without a doubt, gossip would flow. Things had only begun to die down from Emilio and Brittany hooking up.
And while Emilio as a partner in Jefferies Brothers had his own issues with Garrison, Incorporated, the animosity between Jordan and Parker went off the charts.
Brooke had to know the baby’s paternity would be grist for a hungry rumor mill.
He studied the dark circles under her eyes and made an executive decision. The sooner everyone knew about their romance, the better. And by everyone, he meant all of South Beach in one fell swoop.
Jordan tipped a knuckle under Brooke’s chin and brushed a final kiss across her lips. “All right, then, as you said, when the time is right, the world will know.”
The next morning, Brooke raced past her personal assistant at the condominium development with a smile and a wave, late, thanks to her restless dreams about Jordan . The massage had tweaked her every last hot button, convincing her that having Jordan in her bed again would be a very delicious idea. But he’d pulled back when she’d been wanting, forcing her to think about their future and not just her keen hunger for him.
Her waking thoughts were equally as agitating as she recalled his kiss…and the way his thumb had gone straight to her image in the photo. He’d known the difference between her and her twin even as children. God, that rocked her.
She only half registered her assistant’s call of, “You have a visitor,” before Brooke threw wide the door to her office to find—
Her mirror image.
Well, her mirror image without a baby bulge since her twin wasn’t five months pregnant. “Good morning, Britt. If you wanted the scoop about Jordan , we could have done lunch today and talked about your wedding plans at the same time.”
In spite of being twins, they hadn’t always been as close as Brooke would have wished. Brittany had often complained that everyone treated her like a child.
However, since Brittany’s engagement to Emilio, she’d become closer to her family.
Brittany leaned forward, gripping the portfolio briefcase on her lap tightly.
“Are you all right?”
Brooke sank into a chair across from her sister rather than sitting behind the desk. “Yesterday’s showdown with the family wasn’t fun by any means, but at least that hurdle is passed. Mother reacted pretty much as expected, and both men walked away without broken bones.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Brittany eased back in her chair, her eyes sympathetic. “You didn’t read local newspapers over breakfast this morning.”
The papers? A bad feeling shivered up her spine. “I overslept. I grabbed a bagel on my way out the door.” A bagel the baby suddenly seemed determined to kick repeatedly. “Why?”