Tempting Jordan: Loving Jordan, #2

By Andrea Dalling

They can't forget how perfect they were together. But a second chance at love comes with a price.

 

Promising young architect Jordan Callahan has caught another boyfriend cheating. The last thing he needs is to meet up with old flame Rick at their five-year high school reunion. Tall, dark, and athletic, Rick may be self-absorbed, but he's been Jordan's dream guy since sophomore year. He's also closeted, and if Jordan gives in to the temptation of Rick's kisses, his lost love could become one more man who breaks his heart.

 

Rick Ferguson is a consummate salesman who's spent his life living up to other people's expectations. The former homecoming king has found success in his career, but the other half of the equation—settling down with a nice girl—isn't in his future. He's tried dating women, but he wants Jordan—his best friend and the only person who understands him. That means coming out, disappointing his family and inviting ridicule from friends. His small-town golden boy reputation will be shattered if he follows his heart to the only love he's ever wanted.

 

One night in a hotel room rekindles their passion. But can it lead to lasting love?

 

This steamy gay romance novella is for a mature audience. It contains flirtation, secret trysts, fresh hotel sheets, self-delusion, angst, and long, passionate kisses.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Artesian Well Publishing
• Release date: Jan 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386702528

Andrea Dalling

Andrea Dalling lives in the sexy Southeast U.S., where the summers are hot and the romance hotter. She loves to torture her characters but eventually rewards them with a happily-ever-after.  Married to her college sweetheart, she's an ally and an advocate for LGBT rights. When she's not writing, she enjoys gardening at her Raleigh home and scuba diving in the clear blue waters of the Caribbean.  You can follow her on Facebook (andrea.dalling.romance) or on Twitter (@Andrea_Dalling). For news about upcoming releases, sign up at http://eepurl.com/00WxP or visit her website at http://andreadalling.com. Want free books? Sign up for her ARC Club to receive advance reader copies. http://eepurl.com/2c4DH

Book preview

Chapter 1

2013

Jordan Callahan strolled through the hotel lobby, the sounds of conversation reverberating off the brass and granite surfaces. Walking by a mirror, he unbuttoned his cobalt blazer, opting for a more casual look to go with his sun-bleached jeans. The ring of his cell phone raised the tension in his neck. He only used that tone with one number.

He tapped the phone on. I told you not to call me again.

Jordan, hear me out. Damon’s voice sounded as desperate as an out-of-luck gambler’s.

Do I have to change my number? I don’t give second chances to cheaters.

He ended the call with an unfulfilling click of the off button. His ex’s smooth baritone awakened the old desire—and the humiliation of catching him with another man. Pain wrenched his stomach. He sank into a couch near the bar. That was three boyfriends in a row who’d slept around.

He drew his arms to his chest and laid his head on his hands, straight blond hair falling over his eyes. He had to be more careful, take more time to get to know a man before giving his heart. He looked for the good in people, but too often they didn’t deserve it.

He headed to the bar, which was open to the lobby, the cushioned barstools upholstered in sage-green leather. The best scotch you’ve got. Neat.

ID? the bartender asked as she dried a glass and hung it overhead.

Jordan showed his license, used to being carded. He was twenty-three but looked younger—which was ironic, because at fifteen he could have passed for eighteen. When he came out, the other kids didn’t give him much trouble because he could kick their asses.

Jordan sipped his scotch. He had planned to take it easy at the reunion tonight, enjoy the company without the swim of alcohol to dull his senses. Thoughts of Damon made his heart ache. One drink would make the pain bearable.

A man walked up beside him. Versace?

From their fall line. Jordan gazed at the man, taking in the green eyes and chiseled jaw. The navy blazer and pinstripe shirt said he was traveling on business.

Frank, the man said, offering his hand.

Jordan.

You here alone? Frank asked.

For the moment. I’m joining friends, but I’ve got some time to kill.

Maybe we could kill it together.

Sure. Jordan glanced at the TV behind the bartender, where the Sixers pregame show played. Not sure what that announcer is so excited about. The team hasn’t won a game all season—why would tonight be any different? He grinned.

I don’t really follow Philadelphia basketball. You a fan?

Football’s my game— Jordan broke off. A familiar form headed away from the front desk. "Excuse me one minute. He took a few steps across the lobby and called, Rick!"

His old friend turned. When his eyes met Jordan’s, Rick flashed a smile, wide and bright enough for a toothpaste ad. His strong jaw was more defined than ever, and his curly dark hair was neat and trimmed, showing none of its unruliness from their high school days.

A flush of desire rippled through Jordan. Rick had maintained his athletic build, broad shoulders and thick arms. Jordan told himself to let it go. He’d been in love with Rick since he was fifteen, but Rick didn’t—couldn’t—reciprocate.

Rick approached and offered a masculine hug, complete with back clap. Jordan breathed the familiar scent of musk and peppermint Altoids.

Anyone else with you? Rick asked.

Not yet.

I need to shower and change. Should I meet you at the bar, or at the banquet?

Banquet, Jordan said. Just thought I’d get a drink first.

Okay. See you in an hour.

Jordan headed back to the bar, where Frank was still waiting. Jordan sipped his drink, letting the smooth, smoky liquid sit on his tongue a moment before he swallowed it. He savored the long burn as it slid down his throat.

So what brings you to Chestnut Grove? Frank asked.

Class reunion. You?

Customer visit. Home is Atlanta.

I’m in Allentown, a couple of hours north.

So that guy you were talking to...he’s, uh, a friend?

Jordan nodded. A bunch of us decided to come stag tonight.

It had been Jordan’s idea, when his breakup with Damon coincided with Rick’s breakup with Jessica. No point in bringing a casual date to a high school reunion.

Jordan sipped his scotch again. He felt the other man looking at him, perhaps for signs of encouragement. He supposed it could be dicey, if you didn’t know whether the man you were trying to pick up was gay. Jordan was accustomed to being approached rather than doing the approaching.

But Jordan wasn’t looking for a hook-up. Sex with a stranger wouldn’t fill the emptiness in his heart. Look, Frank, I don’t want to waste your time. I’m just coming off a breakup...

The man brushed his thumb against Jordan’s. I understand. No pressure. I’m here alone, and I could use the company. Looks like you could, too.

Jordan rotated his glass. They always cheat.

They must be crazy. A guy who looks like you...

That’s the problem. They’re attracted to what’s on the outside. They’re less concerned about what’s on the inside. He swallowed the thickening in his throat. Only one man had ever loved him for himself, and Jordan had let him get away.

RICK SLICKED SOME GEL into his hair and turned on the blow dryer. The cheap hotel model burned hot but was stingy with the air flow. He combed his fingers through his dark curls to style them.

He’d hated leaving Jordan alone at the bar with that guy. The way the man eyed him, he was clearly looking for a hook-up. Jordan deserved better. Rick might not have much say over Jordan’s life anymore, but tonight at least, he could rescue him from that scumbag.

He turned off the dryer and dressed quickly. The navy sport coat over pressed khakis struck a balance between dressy and casual.

He was headed out the door when his cell rang. A customer. His shoulders tensed. He’d finally convinced his boss to transfer him out of that shithole of a dead coal town, so he had to be especially attentive to his new clients. He answered the woman’s questions with as much patience as he could, watching the second hand on his Tommy Hilfiger watch tick by.

When he finally got off the phone, it was time to head to the reunion. He walked by the bar, where Jordan was still drinking with that man.

Rick grasped Jordan’s shoulder. Ready, man?

Soon as I finish my drink.

How many’ve you had?

This’s only my second. Stop mothering me.

Rick held out his hand to Jordan’s companion. Rick Ferguson.

Frank.

What do you do, Frank? Got a business card on you?

Sure. Frank fumbled through his jacket pocket and handed him one.

Rick looked at it and grinned. Oh, sure, the fast food place. Aren’t they closed on Sundays, because it’s the Lord’s day?

Um...yeah...

They know you’re gay?

Rick, Jordan warned.

Frank paled. I don’t see how it’s any of their business.

It’s not, of course. But if you were to hurt my pal Jordy, I would hate for them to find out about your lifestyle.

Ignore him, Jordan said to Frank, then turned to Rick. We’re just having a couple of drinks. Back off.

Rick slapped Jordan on the back. See you in the ballroom in a few. He headed through the lobby and down the corridor.

He thought about the last few guys Jordan had dated and how they had broken his heart. Then, he remembered that Jordan had once told him Damon’s parents didn’t know he was gay. A smile broke over Rick’s face. He opened the Facebook app on his smartphone, went to Damon’s timeline, and posted, Congratulations on coming out, dude! You’ve been in the closet too long!

With a smug smile, Rick headed for the ballroom.

Chapter 2

The ballroom, large and open with tables at the entrance and a dance floor in the back, sported balloons and bouquets in their school colors, blue and yellow. Rick looked around, eyes adjusting to the dim light, and started to make out faces. A stream of old friends stepped forward to shake his hand. He chatted with them absently, scanning the room for his ex, Cynthia Darlington, prettiest girl he’d ever met.

He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen her since the day they left for college. Longing filled his chest and made his arms ache. Facebook kept them in touch, but it was no substitute for face-to-face. He missed her, missed how easy things had been with her. Missed how she understood him, and he could tell her anything.

But there was one thing he couldn’t tell her, not even now. It would break her heart.

Conversation lulled as heads turned. Rick’s turned with them. She stood in the doorway wearing a short black dress, her body slender, a great rack well-proportioned to her body. Any straight man would want a piece of that, and Rick had had it.

Shoulder-length black hair, curled at the ends, framed her face and bounced as she walked. Rick strode forward and captured Cynthia in his arms.

He kissed her, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Soft, sweet, and so gorgeous, dark eyes looking up at him. Damn, it’s good to see you, he said. You look great.

You too. She squeezed his hands. I’ve missed you.

Then why’d you stay away so long?

She shrugged. Family moved to Connecticut. You could have come to see me at Columbia.

I was dating Amanda then, and she would have cut off my balls if I’d gone to New York to visit my ex. He led her to a table, but they continued to stand. So, big-time author. What’s that like?

Not big-time, exactly. But with the money I’m making indie publishing, I was able to quit the advertising job to write novels full-time.

That’s great. I know it’s what you always wanted.

What about you? You’re in sales?

Yeah, telecommunications systems, Rick said. It’s not exciting, but the good news is I finally got the transfer I wanted. I’m moving to Allentown—Jordan and I will be living in the same town again.

She touched his arm. I’m happy things have worked out. You guys were practically joined at the hip in high school.

Not at the hip. The memories hit, Jordan’s body hard beneath him. He cleared his throat and swallowed, fighting back a reaction that might give him away. Cyn can never know.

It was tough, Rick said, "in college, when he spent summers at school so he could finish his bachelor’s early and get his master’s. Then I ended up in the Poconos, and Jordan in the