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“Tomorrow,” she said. She hunched her shoulder. “I know a Tuesday night isn’t your typical date night, but he’s on call a lot at the E.R. Tuesday is his only night off this week.”
“Who cares what night,” Sandra said. “All I know is that the men of Wintersage had better watch out. Vicki Ahlfors is on the move.”
Chapter 2 (#ulink_b0ce7834-c551-5b0a-b483-eda53afec8e2)
“Don’t be an idiot,” Vicki murmured around the piece of twine she’d stuck between her lips. “You know better than this.”
Even though she did know better than to try to balance on the wobbly, backless stool, she remained standing on it. If she fell and broke her tailbone it would be sufficient punishment for forgetting to bring the stepladder she’d taken from the Victorian to hang the new artwork in her living room at home. As far as punishments went, maybe a broken tailbone was a bit harsh.
“But you don’t have to worry about that,” she said as she tied that last bit of twine around the garland, fastening it to the molding that framed the front door. She hopped off the stool and slipped back into her heels. Then she took a couple of steps back and observed her handiwork.
“Perfect,” Vicki said.
“I’d say so.”
Vicki whipped around, spotting Jordan Woolcott walking up the walkway. Sixteen-month-old Mason toddled alongside him on legs that still didn’t quite have that whole walking thing down yet. Vicki smiled as the chubby-cheeked sweetheart fought for his independence, trying to walk ahead of his father.
She stood on the top step and waited patiently while he slowly climbed up to meet her. She scooped Mason into her arms, plopping a kiss on his too-adorable-than-it-had-a-right-to-be face.
“How’re you doing today? You and your daddy coming to see your auntie Sandra?” She looked up at Jordan, who remained at the base of the porch steps, a tired smile tilting up the corners of his lips.
“Hello, Jordan,” she said.
“Hey there, Vicki.”
There went her idiot heart, doing that stupid fluttering thing it did whenever she saw him. Goodness, how pathetic that at twenty-eight she still had the same reaction to him that she did as a teenager. No, it was more than just pathetic, it was downright pitiful, because never once had anything in Jordan’s demeanor suggested that he felt anything even remotely similar toward her.
Yet when she’d sat in that salon chair last week and told the stylist to glam her up, it was with the intent of seeing Jordan’s reaction to the finished outcome.
Pathetic.
If the man hadn’t caught a clue in all these years, he certainly wouldn’t notice her just because she’d cut her hair.
“Is my sister up there?” he asked, gesturing to the building’s second floor with the hand that held Mason’s diaper bag.
“She sure is.” Vicki looked down at Mason. “You want to get out of this cold and see your auntie Sandra?”
Jordan joined them on the porch, but before Vicki could turn toward the door, he stopped her.
“What exactly did you do here?” he asked, motioning at his own head.
“You mean my haircut?”
“Yeah. The light brown color you added to the ends, too.”
“They’re called highlights.”
He nodded. “I like it. It suits you.”
“Thank you,” she answered.
She was not going to blush at a simple compliment.
Dammit, she was so blushing. She could feel the heat climbing up her cheeks. Her fair skin hid nothing, so in a matter of seconds Jordan would see it, too.
With Mason in tow, Vicki quickly turned for the door, leaving him to follow her inside.
“Wow,” Jordan said once they’d entered the building. “You all are really getting into the holiday spirit, huh? There are more flowers in here than at the Rose Bowl parade.”
“Well, it is a floral-design shop,” Vicki noted with a laugh.
“A busy one at that,” Jordan said, pointing to various arrangements in different stages of completion. They covered every available surface.
“When it comes to flowers, the Christmas season is second only to Valentine’s Day. Although, to be honest, I’ve been a bit busier than usual this week.”
Jordan peeled Mason’s puffer jacket off while the baby was still in her arms, and then stuffed it inside the diaper bag.
He gestured to her feet. “You don’t normally wear fancy shoes to make flower arrangements, do you? Is this something special you’re doing for the holidays?”
Vicki’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to be funny?”
The blank look on his face gave her his answer even before he said, “No.”
“I’m wearing fancy shoes because I have a date,” she said.
“Really?” Jordan’s head reared back slightly. He took Mason from her arms and the baby immediately started to fuss. “A date?”
Vicki couldn’t see past her irritation over Jordan’s apparent surprise at the news that she had a date. It both stung and pissed her off.
“Is it so hard to believe that someone actually wants to go out with me?” she asked.
“No,” he said with a hasty head shake. “It’s just that I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”
Not that that should come as a surprise, either. When had he ever taken interest in whom she was dating?
Vicki held no illusions about where she stood as far as he was concerned. She had never been in Jordan Woolcott’s league. For that matter, she had not always been in Sandra and Janelle’s league, either.
Unlike her two best friends, Vicki hadn’t been born into money.
She and her three brothers had spent the majority of their formative years in the public school system, not moving to Wintersage Academy until her sophomore year of high school, once her father’s business had taken off.
Ahlfors Financial Management’s success secured her family’s place among Wintersage’s elite, but their wealth didn’t reek of “old money” like that of the Howertons and Woolcotts. Although her friends never made her feel inferior, Vicki never let herself forget that one difference between them.
When it came to Jordan, there was no denying that they were different.
He had been several years ahead of her in high school, having already graduated from Wintersage Academy by the time she’d started there. Vicki had developed the most ridiculous crush on him from the very first day she’d gone over to the Woolcotts’ to study with Sandra one afternoon. It had taken her years to accept the fact that, if not for her being one of Sandra’s very best friends and their families knowing each other for years, Jordan wouldn’t know she existed.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Wintersage was a small town. He would know she existed—in the same way he knew Jocelyn Cornwell, who ran the realty office on Main Street, or Agnes Ripple, the owner of the corner bakery, existed.
That thought annoyed her to no end. And when she thought of how long she’d pined over Jordan, it irritated her even more.
Vicki returned to her worktable, picking up the stem cutters and attacking the stubborn stalks of the lilies that had just been delivered by one of her suppliers. But as Mason’s crying intensified, she walked to where Jordan stood struggling to get the baby to calm down. The minute she lifted him out of Jordan’s arms, Mason’s cries quieted. Vicki bounced him softly, running her hand up and down the baby’s back and whispering soothingly into his ear.
“I don’t know what’s going on with him today,” Jordan said. “I usually don’t have a problem getting him to calm down, but he’s been more agitated than usual.”
“Maybe he can sense that you’re—” she started, but then she stopped.
“I’m what?”
Vicki bit her bottom lip, but then she stopped that, too. The old Vicki would keep her mouth shut to spare his feelings. She was no longer listening to the old Vicki.
“Uptight,” she finished. “You’ve been rather uptight lately, and I think Mason can sense that.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “You’re probably right.”
The sheer exhaustion on his face quelled the ire that had risen within her just moments ago. Vicki couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Jordan cocked his head to the side and looked down at his son. “The problem is I can’t seem to unwind because he constantly has me on the go. I get agitated, and then he gets agitated. It’s a vicious cycle.”
“You need some rest, Jordan.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. But I don’t see rest anywhere in my immediate future, not with this little rascal who wants to get into everything these days,” he said, pinching the baby’s chubby leg through his cute corduroy pants.
Vicki took a moment to consider the suggestion she was about to make before she asked, “How about I watch Mason for you so you can get some rest?”
Jordan’s neck stiffened with shock. “Really?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
That was what his mouth said; the naked hope in his eyes, on the other hand, said that he was dying for a little help with the baby.
“It’s not as if it would be a hardship,” Vicki reasoned. “How could I pass up the opportunity to spend time with this little heartbreaker?” She kissed the baby’s chin. “And while I do, you can get some much-needed rest.”
Jordan’s shoulders sank with relief. “God, Vicki, that would be wonderful.”
“I’m happy to do it. Just not tonight,” she said.
“Yeah. You have a date,” Jordan said. He lifted Mason from her arms but remained standing there, his gaze trained on her.
“What?” Vicki asked. After several moments of his staring, her self-consciousness ramped up to skin-tingling levels.
He shook his head as if to clear it. “Nothing.” He gestured toward the staircase. “We’ll go up to Sandra’s.”
“Okay.” She leaned forward and gave Mason a little baby wave. “See you later.”
“When?”
Vicki’s head popped up at Jordan’s question. “Excuse me?”
“When will you see us?” He shook his head. “Him? Mason. To babysit?”
She hadn’t thought that far in advance, but it was obvious Jordan needed to rest as soon as possible. “What about tomorrow, maybe around seven?”
“Tomorrow is good. It’s great, actually.”
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you both tomorrow, then.”
“Good.” He gave her another of those tired, grateful smiles before he started up the stairs. After he’d climbed a couple of steps, he stopped and turned. “Vicki?”
“Yes?” She felt her face heat after being caught still staring at him.
“You really do look nice,” Jordan said. “I hope this guy you’re going out with tonight realizes how lucky he is.”
The instant warmth that traveled across her skin from his simple compliment was embarrassing to say the least.
“Thank you,” Vicki said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She fingered the wispy end of a lock of hair and grinned as she returned to her workstation. Her stylist would get a very nice tip after her next haircut. Even though she no longer cared whether or not Jordan Woolcott noticed her, apparently the pixie cut had gotten her just the result she’d initially hoped for.
* * *
“Anybody home?” Jordan called as he arrived on the second-floor landing of the huge Victorian where his sister’s dress shop was located.
Sandra turned from the glittery ball gown she was adjusting on a mannequin and smiled.
“Well, look who’s here.” She walked over to them and reached for Mason. “Give me my nephew.”
Jordan handed the baby off and plopped into an empty chair. The exhaustion of the past week had him on the verge of both mental and physical collapse.
“So what brings you two here?” Sandra asked, taking the chair opposite his and bouncing Mason on her lap.
Jordan shrugged. “Just thought we’d get out for a bit. He doesn’t understand that it’s too cold for the beach or the park, so I’ve been taking him other places. We just came from the dry cleaners.”
“Such party animals,” Sandra said with a snort. She snapped her fingers. “I know exactly where you should take him—the children’s museum in Dover. I saw something on TV about a special exhibit they have going on for the Christmas season.”
Sandra turned the huge computer monitor around to face her and grabbed the wireless keyboard from her desk. As his sister searched the web, Jordan pitched his head back and let his eyes fall shut. He tried to shake off the edginess that had his skin tingly. The weird vibe had settled over him after his exchange with Vicki, and hell if he knew what to make of it.
She had popped up in his head more than once this week, creeping into his thoughts and setting off memories of how shocked he’d been when he’d noticed her standing on the beach at Sandra’s wedding. The new haircut and that curve-hugging dress had been something to behold.
Jordan couldn’t remember if he had ever once noticed what Vicki wore. Of course, he’d noticed her—no man could deny that Vicki was gorgeous in her own right. He just had never looked at her in that way.
She was just...just Vicki.
She was the quiet one; the one who, if Sandra or their other best friend, Janelle, ever got into trouble, would get them out of it. She was steady. Reserved. She wasn’t the type that normally produced the prickle of awareness that climbed up the back of his neck when he’d spotted her standing on the porch in sexy leopard-print heels.
“What do you think about that?” Sandra asked.
