SPARRING PARTNERS
Book 1 of The Dojo Chronicles
by
Leigh Morgan
SMASHWORDS EDITION
PUBLISHED BY:
Leigh Morgan on Smashwords
Sparring Partners
Copyright © 2010 by Leigh Morgan
Cover art by Vince Milewski
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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...
Dedication
For Vince - My love, my best friend, the reason I continue to laugh at myself and feel great about it.
To my Sensei, Daniel Schroeder, and all of my dojomates who are my family - whether they want me or not - I love you all. Nuff said.
To my family of birth - I am blessed - Vikings, Pirates, Highlanders - WOW we rock.
And ultimately for Irma,
I miss you grandma.
...
SPARRING PARTNERS
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along.
Rumi ~13th Century
CHAPTER ONE
"You need a husband."
Those four words, if ever appropriate, belonged in a different century: one where traitors were still drawn and quartered. They didn't belong echoing off the marble floors of a twenty-first century courthouse where doing the right thing should be synonymous with helping those who have no legal voice of their own, namely children.
Unfortunately for child advocate and all around idealist, Reed Mohr, those four words, a mere five syllables, meant the difference between getting fourteen-year-old Jesse Bane out of his tenth foster home in four weeks, or consigning him to hell until the system spat him out at eighteen.
Unacceptable every way Reed looked at it. If the most expedient way to adopt Jesse was to get married first, so be it. She could remedy that after Jesse was safe.
Losing her single status was one thing. Losing her livelihood in the process was quite another. Reed Mohr hadn't considered that the judges she ultimately answered to, would strip her of the one thing she poured her heart and soul into doing well, representing the least powerful among us, the young and the elderly. But she should have, Reed thought, mentally kicking herself.
Reed knew the drill in Judge Meen's juvenile court. Single parents didn't adopt. Child advocates don't take their clients home.
Children aren't puppies, Reed.
Three words this time, bouncing in her hyper-charged brain.
Really, Reed thought? Fourteen-year-old boys who witness their heroin addict fathers inject their mothers with enough dope to kill an elephant aren't puppies? Who knew? Apparently not Reed who, if she wanted to keep her job, would do as instructed, which amounted to shutting up and letting this one go. Only she couldn't do that. This one wasn't a cause or a whim or another of the rag-tag animal misfits she dragged home. This one happened to have a name: Jesse. And she wasn't about to let him get swallowed by the system and flushed away like waste.
"You know you cannot adopt in this county without being married." Judge Meen said from his perch behind the formidable oak bench in juvenile court, looking down at Reed over reading glasses he didn't actually need.
"The juvenile code does not prohibit a single person from adopting, your honor."
"How long have you practiced law in Radkin County, Reed?"
"You know the answer to that, judge."
"Remind me." Judge Meen said.
"Twelve years."
"Are you willing to piss all that away for a kid you don't know? A kid with two junkies for parents? A kid who at fourteen is already damaged goods?" Judge Meen's voice continued to escalate bouncing off the marble floors and oak walls as it gained momentum and smacked into Reed with the tangible force of a slap to the face.
"Jesse Bane isn't a puppy, Reed. You can't just take him home and train him to love you. He'll just piss all over your house".
Reed couldn't control the shiver that ran down her spine at the judge's words. She was afraid that she might be making a huge mistake. What was it about Jesse that made her think she could be a mother to a damaged fourteen year old boy?
Sweat began to run under her arms, behind her knees and at the small of her back, causing another involuntary shiver. Her heart beat painfully as it slammed against her ribs.
Was she really ready to lose her job?
Could she stomach being married to anyone long enough to adopt Jesse?
Could she afford to start her life over again at thirty-six?
Could she turn and walk away from Judge Meen and everything that was wrong with the juvenile justice system and pretend she couldn't have made it better for at least one child, if she'd only found her backbone behind the twisted snake-like mass her insides had become?
No. Not today. Not tomorrow. Never again.
Reed pushed all five foot three and one quarter inches of her frame upward, standing as tall as she could, and forced herself to take a deep, calming breath, until time slowed to its natural pace again.
This was her moment. With a clarity Reed Mohr didn't question, she knew what she did next would define the rest of her life. She took another breath and stepped forward realizing that she was too damn old to pretend she couldn't make a difference if she chose to.
She took another step closer to the bench and then another, thanking the spirits above that she had the foresight to put on the one pair of heels she owned instead of her usual flats. The extra two inches helped feed her inner giant.
"You're right, judge. Jesse Bane is not a puppy." Reed's chin shot up and she forced her voice not to quaver as she looked up at the judge without blinking. "I'll have a husband tomorrow. You'll have my petition for adoption on your desk as soon as an adoption study can be completed. Since Jesse has no family, and I know you hate burdening the foster care system, I'll expect you to sign the order." Knowing she was dangerously close to contempt of court Reed added, "Your honor."
"I'll sign it, Ms. Mohr. But the second I do you'll never work as a child advocate in this county again. You won't be sending the kid back either. I'll throw your tail in jail if you try."
Reed gave a quick nod and swallowed past the dry knot at the back of her throat. "I understand. No refunds. No returns. No job. Thanks for clearing that up for me, your honor." Reed smiled. It was a small smile at first, but as it gained distance, the clenching in her stomach began to ease and swallowing became easier. Her heartbeat returned to normal and the clammy feeling she'd felt earlier disappeared.
"Get out of here, Mohr, before I have you incarcerated for pissing me off, and good luck. You're going to need it".
It wasn't contempt that had Reed humming her way out of the courtroom, it was a feeling of lightness that came with knowing she'd made the right call, the only call, she could have made. Now all she had to do was propose to the only single adult male she could stomach living with for more than a week and hope he didn't laugh in her face.
Charlie wouldn't laugh at her, he never laughed at any of the crazy notions she got in her head. Charlie wasn't a laugher, Charlie was an instigator. Charlie would understand her need to give Jesse a real home where he was loved. Jesse would be well loved at Potters Woods. Reed would just have to learn about parenting as she went. Charlie would help her as he had from the moment she'd walked into his class as an undergraduate student with fear in her eyes and trepidation in her heart.
Reed graduated with a degree in history at the top of her undergraduate class with the support of Charlie and her aunt, Finn. Charlie pushed her to stop talking about injustice and start doing something to change it when she could; like today. Charlie was the reason Reed went to law school. Charlie and Finn were the only family Reed acknowledged since the death of her mother, at least until now. Now, she would have Jesse too. All doubts that Reed had walking into the courtroom fled. She'd done the right thing. Now, all she needed was a husband.
Charlie was her man. Ardent Democrat, Jimmy Buffett fan, sixty-two year old college professor. And, he had one other thing going for him that no other man Reed respected and cared for had. Charles Renee MacIntyre the third was Flaming-rainbow-flag-flying-gay.
Reed wouldn't want even a short term husband any other way.
CHAPTER TWO
I reach for a piece of wood. It turns into a lute
I do some meanness. It turns out helpful.
I say one must not travel during the holy month.
Then I start out, and wonderful things happen.
Rumi~13th Century
Two years later.
"You need a wife."
Those four words crashed through billionaire Jordon Bennett's skull with the same force he'd seen Tiger Woods use on his opening drive. Four syllables that in the space of seconds burned what Jordon thought of as his impenetrable world of safety and security to the ground.
No wife, no job. William Bennett, Jordon's uncle and CEO of B.H. Holdings, Jordon's employer, made his status that clear. There were laws against that kind of discrimination, but they didn't apply to William Bennett. As CEO of the world's largest investment corporation and the third largest private employer in the United States, William Bennett was a law unto himself. No one questioned William, they obeyed him.
"By Friday."
Today was Tuesday: the second Tuesday in June to be precise. The day Jordon was supposed to be officially nominated as William Bennett's successor. Jordon's stomach rolled and he went from hot to cold in the space of a second. He hit the button for the express elevator. He needed to get out of B.H.'s Milwaukee high-rise before he threw up.
The elevator was too slow. Jordon turned and hit the door for the concrete and steel stairs with enough force for a smaller man to shatter bone, and took the seventeen flights of stairs two at a time, sorry now that he wore leather soled shoes. The pain he knew he should be feeling in his hand didn't even register.
By the time Jordon hit Michigan Street he was breathing hard. Sweat had begun to run freely, melting the gel he used to keep his long hair severely tamed and clubbed in a tight tail that he wore under his suit coat for meetings.
Today's meeting with William wasn't worth the effort. Tearing out the leather tie holding his hair in place, Jordon headed toward the art museum. Calatrava's architecture, surrounded by Milwaukee's lakefront, was one of the few things Jordon liked about Wisconsin. It calmed him and helped him gain perspective, two things he needed badly right now.
"No prenuptial agreement. No models looking for a quick score. No actress you can pay off to play the role of wife. Find a real woman. A real wife."
William should have just shot him, Jordon thought. It would have been less painful than threatening to take away the only thing that gave his life meaning. That couldn't happen. Jordon wouldn't allow it.
How in hell was he going to find a wife by Friday? He ran his fingers through his hair, loosened his tie until it looked like someone had tried and failed to strangle him with it, and set off at a clip most people reserved for jogging toward the art museum. He needed a quiet place to plot his next move.
He retied his hair punishingly tight at his nape. Jordon just wanted to think, not scare the patrons, and he was sure his countenance was scary enough without his hair sticking out like Einstein's.
...
"Find a wife by Friday. You have thirty days to make her love you."
"And the hits just keep on coming." Jordon said, under his breath, grateful the museum's patrons were giving him wide berth. Jordon thought he must look as crazy as he felt. Talking to himself as he stared sightlessly at a giant stone Buddha probably wasn't helping him blend.
"I need to enroll in Sensei Schwartz's dojo today before I put my fist through something or someone I shouldn't." Jordon laughed to himself without mirth. "That is, right after I find some nice, real, woman to marry me".
Jordon looked around.
The woman at the ticket desk scowled at him. He winked at her and headed toward the coffee shop before she called security.
There were a number of obstacles he was going to have to overcome. First: Jordon didn't know any real women. Every woman Jordon slept with over the last two decades, with the exception of an Australian opera singer, was either a model or an actress, and William knew it.
Second: He didn't have time to fly to London, Paris, or Milan to find a real woman, marry her, and bring her back by Friday.
Third: Even if he managed to find some poor deluded soul to marry within William's ridiculous timeline, how on God's green earth was he going to convince this mystery woman to love him? Jordon knew, with the kind of certainty seven-year-olds reserved for Santa Claus, that he was not loveable.
Jordon stopped outside the coffee shop door, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off the tension headache beginning to build in his temples. He closed his eyes, concentrating on slowly breathing in and out, in and out. After seven seconds of rhythmic breathing, his headache receded and he felt almost human again.
That was until the coffee shop door smacked him in the face.
It took Jordon a tenth of a second or so after his eyes flew open and his brain recognized he now had a physical reason for the pounding in his head to register the cold, wet, gooey substance seeping through his silk shirt, making its way down his hand tailored Italian suit pants.
His eyes narrowed and he let out an audible growl just as a gangly teenager stepped around the tempered glass door and started awkwardly to rub Jordon dry with a handful of rapidly dissolving tiny paper napkins.
"Ah, hey, man. Sorry. Didn't see you there."
Jordon moved to still the boy's hand before the kid put a hole in his shirt. Not that it mattered, the shirt, like the life he'd had when he woke up this morning, was unsalvageable.
A tiny but strong hand manacled his wrist before Jordon could disengage the kid.
"Don't you touch him." There was such menace and promise of dread in that voice that Jordon couldn't help but be surprised by the red-headed elf attached to it, as she pushed her way around the much taller kid and glared up into Jordon's eyes. She looked like a fuzzy orange kitten trying to protect a docile Rottweiler. Useless. Futile even, but spitting mad anyway, even in the face of obvious danger.
Jordon almost laughed, but something in her eyes made him stop. In that moment he recognized a kindred soul. Before him stood a woman who would do anything to protect those she loved, including standing up to what had to be Goliath to her David.
Before him stood a real woman. She certainly was no model, not topping out at five foot nothing, sporting a mop of unruly red hair, and a scowl that would frighten the devil himself. A real woman, with real love in her heart. He could work with that.
Jordon smiled at her. Her eyes flared and he must have surprised her because she dropped her hand and stepped back, careful to keep the kid, who topped her by at least a head and a half, behind her.
"Are you crazy"? She asked, clearly believing he was.
"Apparently."
The kid spoke, drawing Jordon's attention reluctantly away from the elf's widened blue-green eyes.
"I'm sorry about your shirt. I'll have it cleaned for you. Your tie too." The kid sounded sincere. He was polite, about sixteen, and he managed to hold Jordon's gaze without wavering, something men twice his age had trouble doing. Jordon was impressed despite himself. The kid's demeanor spoke well of him and the elf.
Until she spoke again. "This isn't your fault, Jesse. He's the one who was standing in front of a glass door with his eyes closed." She captured Jordon's gaze, narrowed her eyes, and sweetened her false smile. "Just how drunk were you last night, and why are you walking it off in an art museum? You look like someone tried to strangle you with that tie. Shouldn't you be sleeping it off near the airport instead of growling at strangers?"
Well she got the strange part right and she wasn't far off on the tie. Even so, Jordon didn't like mouthy women. He especially disliked sawed-off ones with more bravado than sense, even if they sported ocean colored eyes, a mouth meant for sex, and enough curves for a man to hold onto even if he had to pick her up to kiss her.
"Reed, please, I hit him with the door. Remember? If I hadn't tripped, he wouldn't be wearing my breakfast. Give the guy a break." Jesse said.
"Seems to me he shouldn't be standing with his eyes closed right in front of a door."
"He's the one with the ruined clothes. This really isn't his fault. He doesn't look or smell like he's been out all night. Why are you being so hard on him? It's not like you at all."
Jordon heard enough. The art museum needed to post a sign saying: No red-headed elven harpies with great eyes escorting yogurt throwing, overgrown teenagers allowed. Violators will be spanked by the throw-ee.
He sent one narrow eyed searing glance toward the leprechaun from Hades, nodded toward the kid and turned and walked away without a word. What was the point? He'd had enough stress for one day. He couldn't wait to start at Sensei Schwartz's dojo. He really needed to hit something soon.
He heard rapid footsteps behind him before a small hand gripped his arm. He let her stop him because it was the most efficient thing to do. He was not going to engage with her though. Jordon couldn't see any up-side to that conversation. He didn't turn around, he made her come around to him.
"Jesse is right. I am sorry I acted so rudely". She said, sounding like she meant it. "I saw your thousand dollar suit, and something inside me shouted, "Warning, jerk alert"."
Jordon couldn't decide if he should continue to be offended by her outrageousness, or laugh. The sincerity on her face as she insulted him, coupled with the twinkle in her eyes, made him smile. He had a few warning bells of his own going off inside his head, but surprisingly, his headache was gone.
"I am sorry." she said again.
She didn't sound like she believed herself, and the flush on her cheeks gave proof to her lie. He quirked a brow, and the flush deepened. She held his gaze though and stuck one foot out, like she was gearing up to argue the point. He waited, curious to hear what she'd come up with. She didn't apologize again. Instead, she held out her small hand and waited.
When he didn't respond quickly enough, she demanded, "Give me your tie. If I can't get it cleaned I'll buy you another one. And another shirt."
"You can't afford them." He said.
Withdrawing her hand before he could shake it or disrobe into it, she cocked her head at him and smiled, sending her mop of red-gold curls bouncing. When her eyes narrowed, he knew he'd pissed her off. For some perverse reason he couldn't name, Jordon was enjoying her reaction. Since he didn't have to get back to work, and he didn't have any place he needed to be for the next month, he could afford a few more minutes in wet clothes while he watched her steam.
"If I have to dance naked on a street corner shaking a tambourine and whistling Dixie, I'll find the cash to replace your overpriced shirt and tie." She said, sticking out her chest and batting her glorious eyes at him, hand extended again like she really expected him to turn over his tie.
"As much as that image appeals to me, and it does, have dinner with me instead. You can dance after I feed you. Or before. " Jordon shrugged. "I could go either way." Some of the tightness he'd felt since his meeting with William eased as she stood toe to toe sparring with him.
"I don't own any overpriced clothing."
"Doesn't matter. Especially if you're intent on dancing naked. What you've got on now will do." Jordon shrugged, looking at her well worn concert-t-shirt. "Although I prefer Aerosmith to Alice Cooper."
"Why?" She asked.
"Alice Cooper's a little one dimensional for my taste."
She waved that away. "My son just ruined your clothes. Why take me to dinner?"
Jordon lost the smile he didn't know he was sporting until it was gone. "My apologies. I didn't see a ring. I didn't realize you were married. Don't worry about the shirt and tie. No problem." He took a step towards the exit, but she blocked him.
"I'm not married. Not anymore."
Jordon's shoulders relaxed and the acid in his stomach seemed to neutralize. Then he remembered the kid called her Reed. "Your son calls you by your first name?"
She waved that away too. "Jesse's only been my son for two years. It's a long story."
"Tell me over dinner." Jordon didn't normally have to ask twice, but this time he wanted to. "Come on. I'll bring a tambourine."
The smile she gave him transformed a perfectly pleasant face into a beautiful one. She had the kind of fresh faced attractiveness that he knew from experience would get more beautiful every time he saw it. That kind of beauty was dangerous, it never grew old. He should have just kept walking. He didn't really have time to enjoy himself, and, he didn't need a relationship. He needed a wife.
Jordon was about to tell her he'd forgotten a prior commitment when she pulled a card from the back pocket of her well worn jeans and slapped it into his hand.
"Pick me up at seven." Grinning widely, she winked at him. "Wear the tie. We'll add some salsa stains for variety." Reed turned and bounced back toward her son of two years, who looked to be at least sixteen. She looked back over her shoulder at him, before pulling Jesse away. She was interested, and interesting, and she wore trouble like a neon warning sign around her neck.
Instead of doing the smart thing, Jordon looked at the card. Reed M. Mohr - Mediation Specialist. Judgmental little thing, for a mediator. He put Reed's card in his pocket, pulled out his cell, turned it on and punched one on his speed dial. His friend and head of security, Henry Platske, answered before the first ring ended.
"Where the hell are you?" Henry yelled into the phone. "You left B.H. without me. Not cool. Do you want me to station two of my guys with you 24/7? You're lucky you didn't get your ass kidnapped."
Jordon pinched the bridge of his nose again. He'd forgotten all about Henry when he fled B.H.'s conference room after meeting with William. "Are you done?"
"Stay where you are, I'm coming to you." Henry said.
"Henry, take your bodyguard hat off for a second and just be my friend." The silence on the other end of the phone meant Henry wasn't done tracking him yet.
"Give me a break, Henry. I need you to run a name for me. Not just the average background check, I want everything you can find. And I need it by five."
"Shoot." Henry replied, all business.
"Reed M. Mohr. She does mediation at this address."
Jordon heard some clicking sounds right before Henry said, "Got her. What's so important about this woman?"
"Don't know yet, but I want to know everything about her. Find out her ring size too. Just in case."
CHAPTER THREE
William Bennett brushed a lock of silver streaked dark brown hair from his lover's face as she slept, wondering just when she'd give in and marry him. He'd been asking for the past eight years, she'd been a widow for ten, surely she'd had enough time to get used to the idea. As sick as he was of all the sneaking around, he'd never give up on Lily. He'd loved her too long and too deeply to ever let her go.
William's hand trailed into the sheets as he pulled them up farther on his chest. He liked to sleep with the windows open, enjoying the light breeze off Lake Michigan. It was cool for mid-June in Milwaukee, cooler than Omaha, where his home office was. Hopefully he'd be on a plane back there soon, just as soon as Jordon settled in here, and the Milwaukee office was running efficiently. Then he would drag Lily to the altar, kicking and screaming if he had to. William wanted to be her husband, not her secret.
Lily opened her sleepy blue eyes, softly wrinkled at the corners, proof of how often she laughed and how quickly she smiled. She was smiling sleepily at him now. Remnants of last night's mascara still smudged the small circles under her eyes. Lily was never more beautiful to him than when she was in this gloriously tossed state, still sleepy from making love most of the night before. Her smile remained as youthful as the first time he'd seen it, when she came home in the arms of his brother, wearing his brother's ring. William loved her then. He loved her still, but, he didn't return her smile.
"Marry me, Lily." It wasn't a question, William was tired of asking, it was a command, albeit a gentle one.
Lily deflected instead of answering, asking a question of her own. "What made you issue that ridiculous demand that Jordon find a wife in four days?" She didn't let him answer before rapid-firing more questions at him. "Four days, William? What were you thinking? How do you expect Jordon to find happiness in less than one week?"
"Are you finished?"
Lily nodded, jutting her small chin out like a petulant teenager dissatisfied with a parental decree and ready to sulk about it. Sometimes he wondered how she made it to the ripe old age of fifty-seven without ever having been spanked. William sighed heavily, putting as much feeling into the gesture as he could manage without playing the put-upon-parent. He sat up straighter so he could look at her without being tempted to kiss her silly and make love to her again until she focused on him and not her thirty-nine year old son. Since that fix would only be temporary, William did what he was most comfortable doing, he attacked the issue head-on.
"You know as well as I do why I gave Jordon that deadline."
Lily opened her mouth, to contradict him no doubt, but William stopped her by putting one index finger to her lips, thanking God she was too much of a lady to bite him.
"If I'd given Jordon two months, or even two years, he would have waited until the last seventy-two hours to do anything about it. By giving him the deadline I did, I saved him the trouble of procrastinating. And, I even added an extra day onto the time table, giving him only slightly more than the amount of time he would have given himself."
Lily didn't argue with that. She knew that when faced with something he didn't want to do, Jordon would wait until the last possible moment, and only then complete whatever it was he didn't want face earlier. He'd been that way since kindergarten, He remained that way today. Jordon called it "crunch time". William called it something else entirely, but Lily didn't need to know that. Instead of challenging William on his assessment of Jordon's reaction, Lily asked another question, one he couldn't explain without revealing more than he wanted to about himself.
"Why does he have to marry at all? And don't give me that line of bull you tried to sell to Jordon, about Mr. Takahara specifically stating he would only accept someone 'traditional'. Someone male, married with a family, to run the alternative health care division of Takahara Inc." Lily sat back against the headboard. She stared at William through narrowed eyes. Lily hadn't raised her voice, but the death grip she had on the summer weight quilt she was entombing herself in let William know she wasn't pleased with him.
"Takahara did say that. He also said he'd go elsewhere if B.H. couldn't meet his requirements"
"I don't doubt it. What I do doubt, is that you couldn't talk him out of it. I know you better than that, William. Once Jordon starts thinking, instead of simply reacting to your crazy order, he'll realize it too."
"I probably could talk Peichin Takahara out of his preference for a married man with a family to head that division, especially given the amount of cash I'm willing to part with to buy his company, if I wanted to. I don't want to. If Jordon doesn't find a wife, and Peichin likes Jay Giles, then Jay can run that division and be next in line for my seat when I decide to retire. If Jordon can't accept that, he's out."
The coldness in William's voice, and his matter of fact attitude, must have made Lily's blood run cold, if her sudden involuntary shake and paleness were any indication. William wanted nothing more than to pull her close and whisper that everything would be all right, but the truth was, he wasn't sure Jordon would make the right choice unless pushed into it. Jordon could screw the whole thing up. There was only so much William could control with his dictate, that Jordon pick a real woman, and not someone he paid to perform the role. Jordon was going to have to find love and meaning on his own.
Looking into Lily's fragile, much loved, face, William wanted to relent. He couldn't. He loved Jordon, and he couldn't stand by any longer and watch Lily's son sever every human connection, every chance at a family of his own, in favor of creating jobs and a better life for others. William knew that the status that came with being CEO of B.H. was cold comfort alone in bed at night. Jordon failed to truly understand that. He wanted Jordon to be one of those balanced people who worked hard and loved hard. He wanted Jordon to realize that he could make B.H. better and have a life with a wife and family of his own. As much as William wished it were so, he and Lily wouldn't be around forever.
"I don't understand why you're being so hard-nosed about this?" The entreaty in her voice pierced William with it's sharpness, making his response sharper than he intended.
"Because I don't want Jordon to turn out like me." There, he said it. Let Lily make of that what she will, William thought.
"What's wrong with turning out like you?" Lily said, offering him a small, shaky smile. "I like you well enough."
Again William didn't return her smile, and after a second, it left her lovely face. "And what if James hadn't died ten years ago? What if his heart hadn't given out? What then, Lily? Who would I be to you then?"
She looked away and tried to get out of the bed, but she'd gotten herself so tangled in the quilt she couldn't manage it. William turned her back to him and held her at arms length, forcing her to listen.
"I'll tell you what, Lily. You'd still be in love with and married to my brother. I'd still be hopelessly in love with you. While at least I'd still have my brother, and I wish to hell and back James was still here, I'd be alone and lonely."
William's unshed tears stung the back of his throat. Thinking about James did that to him. He loved James, and his death damn near killed William too. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about that. Nothing except make certain his brother's son had every advantage William could give him. Even if that meant forcing Jordon to see the other half of life he was missing by burying himself in B.H. The kid was in denial, trying to protect himself from the pain of loving someone, just like William was nearly forty years ago.
"Look at me, Lily. If I didn't have you, I would never marry." When she looked at him William steeled his eyes and his tone, willing her to understand just how much he needed to do this for Jordon.
"I would continue buying companies, and I'd take great comfort in knowing that my business was continuing to create meaningful employment for families, but I wouldn't have one of my own. I'd go to my mistress every Wednesday and every Saturday just like I did while James was alive, and I'd die old and alone, probably at my desk."
William squeezed Lily's arms and then let her go, knowing he may lose her, but unwilling to risk Jordon's future for his own. "I won't resign Jordon to the same fate. Not without a damn good fight anyway."
To William's surprise, Lily didn't leave the bed, although if she had he wouldn't have stopped her. Perhaps she knew that. Lily seemed to know most everything about him despite his tendency to hide himself.
"What makes you so sure Jordon wants a family? Maybe his desire is simply what he says it is, to run B.H. after you retire."
Was she projecting or just playing devil's advocate? Sometimes William couldn't tell. He didn't know Lily Bennett half as well as she knew him. All he knew for sure, was that he wanted her by his side so he could spend the rest of his life figuring out the workings of her heart and mind.
"Do you remember when Jordon asked me for a loan so he could buy a ring and find a wife?"
"William, he was four years old."
"And very sincere. I asked him why he wanted a wife. Do you remember?"
"I remember." The smile on her face made William long to kiss her, but he needed to make his point first. Then he'd see if she still wanted to kiss him. He fervently hoped so since he was bound to do it anyway.
"He told me he wanted someone to love and to snuggle with. Someone who would be his best friend forever. Remember?"
"And the two of you went to the store and came back with a ring. That was over three decades ago. What possible relevance does it have now?" Lily said, sounding slightly exasperated with his trip down memory lane.
"That same boy married his high school sweetheart and held his dying daughter in his arms right after she was born."
A single tear ran down Lily's face. She brushed it away, angry with the memory or with him for bringing it back up again, William wasn't quite sure which.
"Emily wasn't Jordon's baby." Lily said.
"He didn't know that when he married Emily's mother. He didn't know that when Emily died in his arms. He only learned it right before they buried her. Yet, Jordon spent every last cent he had on a gravestone etched with 'Bennett' in big letters right after 'Emily'. He wanted Emily. He wanted that family."
"He was only eighteen, William. It was a long time ago."
"Fundamental things like that don't change. Jordon's been running from getting hurt like that again since he left Jackson and came to work for me. That doesn't mean his bone deep desire for a family of his own isn't still there, branded on his soul."
"You're playing with fire, William. Jordon may never forgive you for putting him through this."
"Will you?"
She touched his cheek with one small hand and kissed him lightly before answering.
"Probably."
"Then marry me, woman. I know what I want and I'm too damn old to wait." He lied. He'd wait forever if that's what it took to have her.
"I'll marry you. Just as soon as all of this with Jordon is settled."
William scooped her up and set her in his lap, quilt and all. "Is that supposed to make me extend my four day deadline? If it is, you need to brush up on your negotiating skills."
"I won't interfere, just as long as you promise to abide by whatever Jordon decides to do. If he doesn't want a wife you'll back off."
William knew better than to promise Lily an inch, she'd make it stretch a mile.
"I promise to stick to exactly what I told Jordon. The ball is now firmly in his court, let's see what he does with it. In the meantime, Mrs. Bennett, I have some balls of my own I'd like help with."
Hearing Lily giggle was almost as invigorating as having her push him down as she climbed on top of him. "You're lucky I love you, Mr. Bennett."
Yes he was, very lucky indeed. William sent out a silent prayer, hoping Jordon would chose to be as lucky.
CHAPTER FOUR
Reed wasn't sure she should talk about the subject of sexy men and going on dates with her aunt. Finn dated all the time, if openly seeking younger men to spend quality sheet time with could be considered dating. She certainly didn't understand that her younger niece, who was surrounded by good looking men every time she entered the dojo, didn't date every chance she got.
"You've got a date?" Finn's bright blue eyes flashed in surprise at the news.
Reed shrugged, wondering why she even brought it up. She insulted the guy and acted like a bitch with more chip than shoulder to support it. If she were him, she wouldn't come, would she? Probably not.
"If he shows up. I wasn't my normal charming self when we met, so he probably won't." Reed said, as if it didn't matter whether he showed or not. She wanted to see him again. She'd been thinking of him and checking her watch all day.
"What turned you from charming to not?" Finn asked.
"I thought he was going to lay into Jesse for ruining his clothes. You know how vulnerable Jesse is. I'd rather have a stranger think I'm a world class witch than have Jesse get hurt."
Finn shot her the same look she'd been shooting across the kitchen table since Reed came to live with her after Reed's mother died. That look said: for someone so smart you sure can play dumb. Half pity, half exasperation. That look usually cut through Reed's self-imposed stupidity.
"What I know" Finn said, "is that it's been two and a half years since Jesse came here to live with us. I know he rarely has nightmares anymore. I know he smiles all the time now. Jesse calls Potters Woods his home, not just the place where he happens to live this week. I know Jesse can handle himself without you and your sparring gloves constantly backing him up."
Reed threw a juicy slice of mandarin orange soaked in homemade raspberry dressing from her salad across the kitchen table at Finn. Finn made the salad and the dressing and everything that made Potters Woods home for Reed, Jesse, and Charlie. Finn made them a family and Reed loved her for it. She also hated the fact that Finn was right. Jesse was almost seventeen. He was happy. He no longer needed or deserved Reed playing mama bear.
"Don't you ever get sick of being right?" Reed said, knowing she needed to back off when it came to Jesse before she hurt him or herself.
Batting away the sticky fruit before it hit her perfectly messed playboy bunny hair, Finn said, "I'll get sick of being right the day you get sick of bringing home strays. Now stop throwing your lunch at me and eat it. You're too thin."
"We can't all be built like a brick.... house." Reed muttered, taking another bite of salad, sorry she hadn't inherited Finn's impressive chest. Finn's height and perfect skin would have been nice too, but then Reed had a low center of gravity that helped her kick tail on the dojo floor. Something had to make up for her not quite B cup.
Mr. Dark and Dangerous looking didn't seem to mind when he appraised her figure this morning at the art museum, Reed thought, remembering how his gaze seemed to linger on her trim waste and gently curved chest. Maybe he would show up for their date.
Shoveling a fork-full of mixed greens, bell peppers and walnuts into her mouth, Reed wondered just when it was she'd given up the dream of a husband and a child of her own; a real family.
A sudden jolt of guilt made Reed choke on her salad. The family she had was real enough. She was too old to expect more. Finn had been trying to mother her since Reed showed up at her door, fifteen, homeless, and pregnant. Thinking of her mother and what came after her death brought tears to Reed's eyes. Looking down, she forced another bite of food down her throat as she willed away pain that went too deep to examine. Ever. She changed the subject instead.
"Exactly what strays do I bring home?" Reed asked, trying to change the subject before Finn caught her sadness.
Finn held up a long elegant hand and started ticking off examples, one perfectly manicured finger at a time. "Let's start with the latest additions to our family, shall we? One half-starved kitten that now looks like a full grown tiger." Up went fingers two through five. "A barn owl with a broken wing. Not one, but three rescue deerhounds who eat more than Jesse packs away in a week. And don't even get me started on Charlie."
"I married Charlie."
"Don't remind me."
"Charlie helped us buy this house, and it was his idea to try our hand at elder care. Without Charlie, Irma wouldn't be moving in and we wouldn't be able to offer the elder day-care activities he helped structure. Without Charlie, we'd be broke."
"My point exactly. No more strays. We can't afford them."
"Irma will be paying her way."
"I mean it, Reed. Unless this guy is a billionaire in hiding, don't adopt him. We've got all the strays, and the bills they create, we can handle. I had to sell another painting to pay the mortgage this month."
Reed sighed. As much as she enjoyed getting Finn all riled up, the mortgage payment wasn't something to joke about. Finn hated to part with her paintings and she'd sold four of them so far this year to fund Potters Woods and their elder-care expansion. Someday, Reed swore, she was going to buy them all back, she just needed to figure out how. It was easier when she had a consistent paycheck, but that left when Jesse came. Water under the bridge for both of them now, and well worth the price. There were other ways to make a buck. She and Finn would find them.
Irma's rent would cover the mortgage while they figured out how to cover the rest of their expenses. Getting rid of Jesse, Charlie or the dogs was out of the question. Reed smiled, at least she could relieve Finn's worry over her bringing the man from the museum home as a 'stray'.
"I have no intention of adopting him. I don't even know his name." Reed grinned at Finn, unable to resist yanking her chain a little. "He's cute though. If you like big, dark, brooding types with crooked smiles and come-get-me eyes. He'd look great lounging in my bedroom, fresh from the bath, a fluffy towel slung low on his hips."
"Reed!" Finn threw a walnut from her salad at Reed's head. Walnuts make better weapons than mini orange slices. Reed didn't duck in time and it hit her smack-dab in the middle of her forehead. "Don't even think about it. I mean it. Jesse is the last male we're adopting. We cannot afford any more."
Reed got up and kissed the top of her aunt's head. "No worries, Finn. You can't adopt what you can't name. And I very much doubt he's a billionaire in hiding just waiting for me to sweep him off his feet."
...
Jordon rang the bell on Reed's front door wondering what it was about her that had him standing here at the bottom of the proverbial rabbit hole wanting a date for dinner instead of searching for a bride. It didn't make immediate sense to him, but then again some of the best producing companies he acquired seemed unlikely to turn a profit when he first looked at them.
Jordon rang the bell again.
A small man, in his early sixties, opened the door. His white mustache and goatee were cut close to his face and freshly combed. He was wearing a bright purple smoking jacket with flaming red trim, black silk pajama bottoms underneath, and crimson slippers with the letter 'c' in flamboyant script detailed in gold thread. The pipe in his hand was unlit, but carried the scent of fresh tobacco.
He looked Jordon up and down, his gray eyes lingering a bit too long below Jordon's belt buckle before snapping back up to meet Jordon's less than pleased gaze. The man winked at him before stepping aside and gesturing for Jordon to come in.
"Don't worry, boy. I never steal Reed's dates." He said. The boy comment made Jordon's eyes narrow, but he didn't respond, a female voice cut in before he had a chance.
"Who are you kidding, Charlie? You don't date. You devour prey."
The man chuckled and led Jordon deeper into the foyer which was large, open, and welcoming. As the woman approached, Jordon could have sworn he saw the older man rub his hand over his unlit pipe in a gesture Jordon could only describe as glee. "Why thank you, Finn. It's good to be appreciated at my age. Even if only from the fairer sex."
"That wasn't appreciation, Charlie, it was apprehension. Two totally different things." Finn said, holding her hand out to Jordon. He shook it. "I'm Finn Mohr, Reed's aunt. That's her...a...that's Charlie."
"I can speak for myself, Finn. And don't hog the boy, give him some space. He's too old for you, anyway."
Finn ignored Charlie's thinly veiled insult and motioned with one long hand for Jordon to come further into the room. There was a long bench for him sit on, but he preferred to stand, just in case he decided to make a run for the door.
Finn, he noticed, was as unusually tall as Charlie was small. Even though she was barefoot, Finn stood only a few inches shorter than Jordon's six foot two. He was used to tall women who looked like sticks. This one didn't. Finn would never be called willowy. She had the blond hair, but she was definitely more Raquel Welch than Pamela Anderson. Her body may have screamed sex kitten, but her eyes, as she openly appraised him, didn't. She was in no way pleased to have him there.
"If there's any way you can make it through the night without telling Reed your name, I'll give you fifty bucks." She seemed to think about it before sweetening her offer. "And I'll throw in a jar of homemade raspberry salad dressing. It's organic."
Jordon seriously considered walking out. He'd already lost eight hours in his wife search, and landing in Wonderland had never been part of his dinner plan. He turned to go and three hairy canine monsters blocked the door. They just stood there, regal, silent and huge. How they got there, Jordon hadn't a clue. Had they followed him in? Jordon wasn't scared exactly, he just didn't want to turn his back on them.
"Mo, Curly, Larry. Come on girls out back."
Reed's voice filled the entry hall easing the knot between Jordon's shoulder blades he hadn't realized was there until it left with her voice, and the dogs' departure. Jordon's hands unfisted when the dogs sauntered past him silently heading toward the backyard. He turned back toward Reed's voice and there they were, Reed's family, in a line in front of her, blocking her way. Crazy Charlie, amazon Finn, Jesse the over-grown teenager with eyes a decade older than his sixteen years, standing shoulder to shoulder like an offensive line protecting their quarterback. Reed nudged Jesse and managed to get between Jordon and the menagerie she called family. She took a step closer to him and he relaxed, knowing he wasn't going anywhere without her.
Reed was dressed in another over-sized concert t-shirt with a logo of a band Jordon didn't recognize. It was long enough that it had been made into a fitted dress that cut in at her waist, but didn't cling to her curves, stopping just below mid-thigh. Not nearly short enough to suit him. What Jordon could see of her thighs indicated strength that suggested years of intense exercise. She didn't wear heels, she chose open-toed sandals with straps that wound around her delicate ankles and ended in a bow half way up her well defined calves. The effect wasn't off the runways of Paris or Milan, but that didn't matter to Jordon, and it certainly didn't distract his eyes from her slim, but powerfully built body.
The dress itself was a study in contrasts, part rock-n-roll, part Vera Wang and all red-headed elf. The sleeves had been cut to accentuate her shoulders, the small 'v' just below her collar bone was held together with tiny silver chains, with even tinier silver bells attached in the center. It revealed very little and yet it was sexy as hell. Reed looked fifty times better than she had this morning and totally different from any other woman he'd ever dated. She sparkled with life, and an almost childlike exuberance Jordon found contagious. She spun gracefully on tip-toes for him, making the tiny bells at her chest ring softly.
"Do you like my dress?"
I like you.
"Yes." He said, telling her the truth. " It's like nothing I've ever seen."
She beamed at him. "Thanks. Finn and I made it. I thought the bells were a little over the top, but she insisted."
"Finn was right."
Reed blinked and changed the subject, obviously not one to hammer a compliment into the ground. That too was a new experience for Jordon, one he wasn't sure he liked. Jordon enjoyed flattering women, he was good at it. But, he supposed he could get used to a woman who didn't require it every five minutes.
"So," she asked, still light hearted but more serious now, "How much did Finn promise to pay you if you don't tell me your name?"
"Fifty bucks."
"You going to take it?"
Four pairs of inquisitive eyes stared at him. Charlie looked like he was trying to place Jordon but couldn't quite get there. The old guy was definitely smarter than his clothes gave him credit for. Time to leave before it all clicked in Charlie's gray matter, and Jordon was outed before he could do the deed himself.
"The jury's still out." Jordon answered, before changing the subject, mainly because he didn't get the big deal about his name or why anyone would pay him not to give it.
"Do you like Mexican food?" He asked.
"As long as there's no tequila." Reed grimaced. "We've met, we danced, we don't get along. I love Mexican food though. There are some great places on Mitchell Street in Milwaukee if you're game."
Jordon held his hand out to her. "I'm more than game."
"What am I supposed to call you until you make up your mind about taking Finn's money?" Reed asked, crossing to him, placing her hand in his. "Yogurt man?"
Jordon grinned down at her, enjoying himself for the first time in a long time. "That'll do. For now. At least until we see if I can cover dinner without your aunt's money."
CHAPTER FIVE
When the ocean comes to you as a lover,
marry, at once, quickly,
for God's sake!
Don't postpone it!
Existence has no better gift...
Rumi ~ 13th Century
The restaurant wasn't much to look at from the street, but the open air bistro in the back, the thirty-seven kinds of tequila, and the outstanding food, more than made up for the peeling paint. The air was clear and comfortably warm, the stickiness of the day disappearing with the sun. The chili pepper and margarita glass patio lights glowed softly as the sky turned from orange to purple, then midnight blue. Milwaukee summer evenings were spectacular in their beauty, Jordon thought. One more thing to add to his short list of things he liked about Wisconsin.
The salsa music surrounding them, playing just loudly enough to be felt, filled the night with a sense of expectation. Fresh cilantro, lime, and spice teased the air with fragrance, whetting Jordon's appetite.
His stomach growled, but he was hungry for more than food. Reed smiled provocatively at him from across their small table. Jordon didn't think she was doing it on purpose. That was just the way she smiled when she meant it, from the tips of her sparkly pink toenails all the way to the full corners of her mouth. She was just one of those people who felt every emotion they showed the world from the core out. And she was too far away from him. Close enough to touch if he reached, but not nearly close enough to suit him.
Drops of sweat from Reed's beer bottle hit her chest, rolling slowly down as she drank. She'd declined a glass, something he hadn't seen a woman do since he left Jackson. The motion of her throat as she swallowed and the small ahh sound she made when she was done had Jordon's pants tightening around his groin. He didn't believe Reed was trying to seduce him, she just seemed to be enjoying his company. That too was something he hadn't experienced with anyone but Henry in far too long. Jordon allowed himself to simply enjoy the moment for what it was, a good time, a welcome diversion.
"So, what do I call you? Yogurt man sounds just plain dumb."
Jordon laughed, it did sound dumb. "My name's Jordon."
She cocked her head at him and set down the chip she'd been about to dunk into the pot of mild salsa. She left the spicy stuff for him, which suited Jordon just fine. He was quickly finding out he liked more than his salsa spicy.
"That's a great name. If it were mine, I wouldn't be shy about using it." She said, saying his name aloud, letting it roll off her tongue like a caress.
"Jordon. I like it. Does it have any significance beyond the fact that it sounds great and it seems to suit you?"
"It does. Have significance I mean. At least it does for me." And I'd like to hear you say it again. Naked.
Reed grinned, obviously oblivious to what he was imagining, and bowed her head dramatically toward him. "Care to enlighten me o' secretive one?"
She was cute when she flirted, Jordon thought, reaching across the table to slowly trail one finger the length of her beer bottle. Watching as the pulse beating at the hollow of her throat became more erratic. His gaze captured her startled eyes, watching closely as they bled from soft blue-gray to black. Her lips parted and those soft eyes flared as Jordon dropped his gaze to her mouth.
Jordon rubbed his dampened finger lightly over her exposed collar bone. So fragile. So feminine. He wanted to bury his face there. He wanted to inhale deeply and lick her skin where it moved with her heartbeat. He wanted to sink into her more than he wanted any woman in a very long time. Her eyes closed at his touch, and a tiny sound she couldn't stifle escaped her slightly parted lips. Not quite a moan, but close enough to give him hope for something more.
Jordon pulled back and waited for her to open those glorious eyes before he licked the remaining moisture from his finger, tasting the salt from her skin. She flushed beautifully from her chest to her temples.
"Give me a kiss and I'll tell you." He said.
"Do you bargain for everything?"
Absolutely.
Her voice deepened, and Jordon knew he was getting to her. Reed wanted him to touch her, but instead of giving in, she kept asking questions. Interesting. He wasn't dealing with a woman who wanted him for his money or his body. Not solely, anyway. She seemed to be interested in who he was underneath all of that.
"If you won't kiss me, yet, come closer. Let me see if your skin smells as good as it tastes."