Chapter Six

Christ, the man was touchy. Jordan blinked in the bright, cold sunlight as he and Lucas stepped outside. Traffic flew by them on First Avenue, cars and taxis filled with busy people with busy lives.

Lucas's bristling reluctance to be there with him forced Jordan to offer a way out of lunch. "Look. If you really don't want to hang out with me, you can take off. But I'm offering lunch at my house. I have to check on something; otherwise I'd be happy to try the seafood place Wanda suggested." Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Rain check on the restaurant?"

Jordan didn't know who was more startled by the invitation, him or Lucas. It presupposed there'd be more opportunities to spend time together. Somehow that didn't upset him as he thought it might. His eagerness to share his time with the relative stranger instead of the friends he'd known all his life confused the hell out of him.

"I'd like that. I, um, don't have any plans for the rest of the day."

Unaccustomed happiness settled in Jordan's chest, and, more content than he ought to be, he broke into a full-fledged smile. "Then come on. There's someone I'd like you to meet." He hurried down the steps, anxious to hail a cab back to his brownstone in Chelsea. One pulled up to the curb, and he held open the door, ready to climb inside when he realized Lucas wasn't there next to him. When he looked back over his shoulder, Lucas still stood on the steps of the shelter, an unreadable look darkening his face.

Motioning to the cabbie to wait, he ran back. "What are you waiting for? Come on."

Lucas slanted him a funny look. "Who do you want me to meet and why?"

"Come on, stop being so stubborn." Jordan yanked on Lucas's arm, dragging him into the waiting cab. "It'll be fine. Everyone I know has been nagging me to move on and start living my life again, so that's what I did." The cab took off, whizzing in and out of traffic in typical frantic fashion, and their bodies slid toward each other, then moved apart. For the first time in close to a year, blood heated Jordan's veins. Perhaps it was the press of his arm against the hardness of Lucas's, but he hadn't touched another man since Keith. A ridiculous surge of excitement had him grinning at Lucas in spite of the guy's strained expression. "Why do you look so unhappy?"

"I'm not." But the words came out gruff and somewhat hostile.

Admittedly, Lucas's life story made him curious, and wrapped up in his own personal misery as he was, even he could tell Lucas not only had walls around him, he had a fucking moat complete with piranhas swimming in the water, ready to rip anyone to shreds if they dared to get close enough.

There was nothing Jordan enjoyed more than a challenge, and Lucas Conover was nothing if not a challenge.

Mercifully, the cab slowed, then stopped in front of the brownstone. Jordan tossed some bills over the divider and opened the door. "We're here. Come."

This time, he wasn't mistaken; a flicker of something dark yet hesitant shadowed Lucas's eyes.

"Come on. It'll be fine, promise."

Finally, Lucas slid out of the cab and joined him on the sidewalk. "This is a nice place. If I remember correctly, you haven't lived here that long, have you?"

A throb of sorrow pulsed in his chest, but Jordan had vowed not to be dragged down today. Time to start living, Jordan. Take everyone's advice. Move on, move on . "We bought it about two years ago. It was a total wreck and took over a year to renovate, but we had a blast doing it." They trudged up the steps, and Jordan swung the black wrought-iron gate closed behind them with a clang . A large golden pomegranate gleamed above the glass panes of the front door, under the stained-glass fanlight.

Jordan unlocked the door and waved Lucas to follow him down the hallway. "You want a beer or anything?"

"Nah, I'm fine." From the corner of his eye, he could see Lucas craning his neck to look into the spacious rooms as they passed by. It was a typical twenty-five-foot-wide brownstone, with the staircase on the left, the polished mahogany newels of the banister marching up toward the second story like wooden soldiers. The parlor had a beautiful bay window overlooking the front garden. A wide window seat curved around, with his mother's colorful needlepoint pillows piled high, offering an inviting place to curl up and watch the world go by.

Jordan viewed his home with pride. They'd had the original tin ceilings beautifully restored, and the inlaid polished wood floors gleamed with the obvious care he'd lavished on them. Each fireplace had intricately cut copper gates fanned out in front of them, and pictures crowded the mantels, evidencing that happier times once took place in the house.

Lucas wandered to the photographs. Jordan didn't need to look; he knew them all by heart. There was one of their only Christmas here together, a towering spruce tree in the background, lit by dazzling lights. His parents and him on the day of his graduation from medical school. A picture of him and Keith the night they got engaged, as well as pictures of him with Mike and Drew as young kids, through life's milestones, in their high school and then college caps and gowns, up until about a year ago.

Sunlight streamed in through the front window, creating waving patterns on the floor from the sheer, lacy curtains. The beams hit the back of Luke's head, highlighting the gleam of his chestnut curls. Pictures floated through Jordan's mind, like a vintage movie from the silent era. Highlights of his life played in flickering images, and he lost himself in memories.

Thanksgiving dinner with all their friends and family together. A strong, warm arm slipped around his waist.

"I've waited a long time for you."

Jordan smiled and kissed Lucas on his mouth.

A cold sweat broke over him. What the hell was that about? Blinking rapidly, Jordan glanced around, fearful Lucas could read his mind and see what he'd imagined. The room spun, then tilted, and he needed to lean against the doorframe to keep from sagging to the ground. His mouth dried, and the panic set in.

I can't do this.

Kissing Lucas. He didn't want that, not at all. A quick scan of the room found Lucas still studying the photographs, and Jordan breathed a sigh of relief. Best to forget that confusing image and get on with the business of lunch.

A bark sounded from the back of the house. Luke turned and stared at him, a small smile of delight breaking the stern line of his mouth. "Is that a dog?"

Jordan shared the smile, happy to see Lucas obviously liked dogs. "Yeah. She appeared in my yard a few weeks ago, left, and then just as quickly reappeared." A brown-and-tan four-legged body hurtled through the hall and jumped up on him, wriggling and trying to lick his face. "Meet my newest sweetheart, Sasha. Down, girl." He knelt to pet and scratch behind her ears and accepted her licking his face with her wet tongue. "Come on. She won't bite. I've taken her to the vet and gotten her all her shots."

Lucas approached and knelt next to him, reaching out his fingers for the dog to sniff. Sasha immediately licked them, then flopped on her back to present her belly for a rub. Lucas sat back on his heels, and for the first time, Jordan saw him laugh. Shoulders shaking and eyes squeezed closed, Lucas tilted his neck back and let go with abandon. Fascinated, Jordan couldn't tear his eyes away from Lucas in such an unguarded state. Then he froze.

It hadn't happened in months, but it was undeniable. An ache in his groin. What he'd thought dead and buried, locked away with the love he'd lost, came roaring back to life at the sight and sound of this walled-up man enjoying a moment with a dog.

"Let's go to the kitchen. We can order some lunch and play with her." He jumped to his feet. Sasha scrambled upright, yet Lucas remained crouching on the floor, his laughter gone. Jordan caught a yearning in his eyes, a glimpse of sadness, as he stared after Sasha padding down the hall toward the kitchen. "Lucas?" Their gazes locked, and at the undeniable hunger in Lucas's expression, the floor seemed to drop out from under Jordan's feet. There was no denying his body's reaction now as every nerve ending tingled, and he could sense the blood rushing through his veins, watering his soul, drenching his parched insides. Like a plant long denied the sun, his body stirred with the long-ago remembered warmth and stretched toward its source. To Lucas.

"Lucas." Jordan wet his lips, his heart racing with fear. This wasn't attraction; it couldn't be. He loved Keith still. His skin crawled with nerves. It must be time for another pill. Or two. But first he had to get away from the close proximity of Lucas Conover. "Come on. The kitchen's this way. It's time to feed Sasha." Without looking behind to see if Lucas followed, he almost ran down the hall to the kitchen.

Although she'd only been with him for a few days, Sasha had already settled into a routine, one that naturally revolved around her eating. Jordan, excited to have another living creature in the house, lavished all the love he had bottled up inside on her, taking her for long walks, spending time with her in the backyard, and even letting her sleep in his room. Her dark, expressive eyes followed his every move as he filled first a bowl with fresh water, then another with food. As she ate, Jordan went to the refrigerator and took out a couple of beers. Now that he'd removed himself from Lucas's disturbing closeness, his scrambled wits had settled. Still, he opened a beer and drank half of it in several quick swallows.

"Uh, Jordan? Is everything all right?" Lucas stood at the entranceway to the kitchen, his arms folded, worry clouding his eyes. "Did I do something to make you want me to leave?" He entered the kitchen, which suddenly seemed too small for them both.

Shit. Now even Lucas's voice, sounding all rough and sexy, set him on edge. Throwing up a silent prayer to get control of his sudden raging libido, Jordan managed to face Lucas with a forced smile. "Of course not." He tried not to focus on Lucas's face, but it didn't help quell Jordan's emotions to have Lucas standing so close in his tight shirt over a pair of dark-rinse jeans. Jordan's heart began to slam in hard, powerful beats.

"I, uh, I'll be right back." Before Lucas could answer, Jordan sprinted up the stairs to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. With shaking fingers, he fumbled for the pill bottle. After several attempts, he popped it open and shook two yellow pills out. He scooped up a handful of water from the faucet and swallowed them, barely able to choke them down his dry throat. He gripped the edge of the sink and closed his eyes, waiting for his heart to settle.

Several minutes passed before the room steadied enough for Jordan to return downstairs. First, he checked his reflection in the mirror, and after smoothing his hair, he attempted a smile. Hmm. Perhaps not . He didn't need to smile anyway. Time to go back and pretend all was well. Descending the steps, he heard Lucas's quiet voice murmuring to the dog. Silently, he peeked into the kitchen.

Lucas sat cross-legged on the floor. Sasha's head lay in his lap, and he smoothed his hand over and over the silky part of her head, scratching under her ears. Straining but keeping as quiet as possible, Jordan could just make out Lucas's words.

"Sweet baby girl. You're so lucky to be here. He's gonna take good care of you." In this unguarded moment, Jordan detected a slight Southern accent. Sort of like how Ash sounded when he spoke so lovingly to Drew. Regardless of the pills he'd taken, Jordan's heart once again began to ricochet against his breastbone.

God, he was fucked. No matter how he tried, his body betrayed both his mind and his heart. It was merely getting so close to another man, any man since Keith had died. Absently, he rubbed the wedding band on his finger, its smooth warmth centering him. Remembering the day they'd picked out their rings didn't bring the usual stabbing pain. A gentle calm descended on him. He'd buried Keith with the matching ring on his finger. It seemed only right that if they couldn't be married in life, Keith would be wedded to him in eternity. Bringing his hand to his face, he stroked his finger against his lips, as if it were the kiss of his lover.

"You all right?"

Jordan jumped at the sound of Lucas's voice. He'd been lost in such a strong daydream he hadn't even realized the man had stood up. The pills, along with the beer, made him a bit woozy. "Uh, yeah, fine. Why don't we order some lunch?" He gestured with his hand at a stack of takeout menus on the counter. "Pick whatever you like. I don't eat much these days."

They decided on pizza, the easiest thing, and Jordan called it in. Delivery was always quick, and he and Lucas had just finished their beers when the doorbell rang with their food. Jordan placed the pizza box on the wide center island, creating a safe barrier between him and Lucas.

"Can you take two more beers out of the refrigerator? I'll get the plates."

"Sure."

They might have been any couple sitting and enjoying a Saturday afternoon lunch, and perhaps that depressed Jordan the most. If he didn't choose to remember, Keith might have never lived here. Everyone nagged at him to start living again but for what? Before Keith, no one had touched him or opened him up to face his truth. Why bother to take the chance to start fresh, when pain waited in the wings? He nibbled on the edge of a slice of pizza.

He hadn't heard anything from Jerry concerning Lucas's past and decided the time had never been better to ask questions on his own.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" The warm garlicky pizza smell should have set his mouth watering but his appetite had yet to return. "Did you grow up in New York?"

"No." Lucas bit into a slice and chewed, his eyes suddenly wary.

"So where are you from?" Getting this man to talk wouldn't be easy, but Jordan had all day.

"Down south."

A brief smile curved Jordan's lips. "I thought I detected a bit of a twang. Where about?"

"Why all the questions?"

If you didn't want to answer a question you asked one of your own. Jordan had learned that when Keith would discuss interrogation techniques. But Jordan was a persistent bastard and had every intention of finding out as much as he could about the enigmatic man in his kitchen.

"Why're you being so defensive? If we're going to be working together we might as well get to know each other better." He swiveled his chair so he faced Lucas and quirked a brow. "I've got nothing to hide."

Lucas snorted. "That's bullshit. Everyone has something to hide. It all depends on how good you are at faking it." Gazing down at the half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand, Lucas's expression sobered. "And some things remain better off buried deep." He tossed the pizza on the plate.

Watching Lucas lost in his own mind, Jordan wondered what secrets Lucas had buried that caused him to keep people at a distance. He wondered why he cared. The man had pushed him away and been nothing but rude, yet instead of it putting him off, Jordan remained intrigued.

"I wonder if that's true," said Jordan, thinking of his feelings toward Drew. "Isn't it better to put things on the table and talk it out? That's what my therapist says."

"I don't know." Lucas said nothing further and Jordan decided to drop the topic. After all, he'd been hiding a shit-ton of stuff from people and the last thing he needed was for Lucas to get curious and prod him to reveal his own secrets.

Lucas bent to murmur soft words to Sasha who, sensing an easy touch for food, sat patiently by his stool. Watching the man's long fingers stroke the dog's ears, the earlier warmth rekindled deep within Jordan. He ached for the life he once had and now feared was lost forever. People thought him cold and superior but it was all an act, one he used to cover up the fear he'd never find anyone to love. Falling in love had lulled him into a false sense of tranquility that his life would always be as perfect as those moments spent with Keith. Now it all seemed like tunnel vision, far away and beyond his reach. How long could he exist without being touched or touching someone else? And why did he think these thoughts only when Lucas was around? Troubled and confused, he pushed away the pizza and drank his beer instead.

Lucas stopped petting Sasha and studied him instead. "You're way too thin."

Jordan bristled at the criticism. "It's no big deal."

Lucas's mouth quirked up in a slight grin. "Not if you don't mind looking like a skeleton. You have no strength." He folded his arms. "You're weak. I could take you down in a second."

A vision of him and a sweaty, naked Lucas, rolling around on his bed, lips fused together, flashed through Jordan's head. His mouth dried. Face burning, he stood and turned his back, mumbling, "Yeah, so what the hell, I'm out of shape."

"I could help you." Lucas slid off his stool and stood by his shoulder.

Unused to such close proximity from another person now, Jordan's shoulders stiffened and he spun around. "Help me what?"

"Train you, get you back in shape." Luke came closer. "You're a bag of bones. You're pale, and you have no strength or muscle tone." His voice gentled. "You've had it rough, but I know if you worked your body, it would help your mind."

Jordan took a step back. "Maybe you're right. We could go running and take Sasha with us." At the sound of her name, Sasha whined. Jordan was amazed she'd learned it in such a short time, but she was proving to be highly intelligent.

Lucas agreed. "Yeah, but you also need to do some weight training. Lifting, leg presses, that kind of stuff. You need to build your upper-body strength." His large, warm palm descended on Jordan's shoulder. "All I feel is bones."

And all I feel is you . Jordan's knees almost buckled at the touch of Lucas's hand on his body. For the first time in almost a year, his body's response to being touched nearly overwhelmed him. Hadn't he sat at this very table not too long ago, in total despair, vowing never to feel again? How could it be then that this man's hand on him had him nearly shivering with a need so violent and intense, he thought he might break apart if he moved?

His breath caught in his throat as Lucas's hand slid from his shoulder to his back and turned him around so they faced each other, and he could see the dark uncertainty in Lucas's eyes.

"Lucas."

Jordan's whisper was lost in the tentative brush of Lucas's lips against his trembling mouth. It should have shocked him, but Lucas's lips felt so soft against his own and so warmly alive he couldn't help but melt into his touch. So gentle. So sweet. Lucas's hesitant fingers traced a trembling path along Jordan's cheek, then down the cords of his neck. Dismayed at his body's reaction, Jordan stood frozen, unable, and God help him, unwilling to move. The shock of another man's touch bringing him pleasure both scared and excited him.

Emotionally he might not be ready to move on but physically his body ached for this contact, for Lucas to touch and hold him. And without allowing himself to fall into self-analysis, Jordan wound his fingers around the curls resting on the nape of Luke's neck, and arched into the kiss, as eager to give as to receive.

Good, so good . Jordan's mind spun in fuzzy circles as he sucked Lucas's thick, wet tongue into his mouth. How had he lived so long without the touch of another person? No wonder his life had become an emotional wasteland. He slid his hands down Lucas's broad back, only to freeze at the feel of the man's erection prodding him. Kissing was one thing, but was he ready to take the next step?

Lucas's cock thrust upward into the cradle of Jordan's hips. The reality of Lucas's desire broke through the fog of Jordan's mind, and he pushed away from the circle of Lucas's hard arms.

"I-I can't. I'm not ready for this." He fixed his gaze on the floor, embarrassed at letting down his guard, angry at what he thought of as his betrayal of Keith. Terrified at having to start his life over again. It hadn't hit him how lonely he really was until now, and how afraid and unprepared he was to take this first step back to normalcy.

Lucas's harsh, raspy breath slowed. "Jordan?"

There was no way Jordan could have a conversation right now or even look Lucas in the eye. "It's not your fault. It's me. I'm sorry I led you on."

"You didn't. I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong, and I apologize. It won't happen again." To his surprise, Lucas's voice, normally so deep, sounded uncertain and strained.

Jordan still couldn't bring himself to look at Lucas even though the intoxicating taste of the man remained in his mouth. He couldn't admit he wanted more. Heartbreak, loss, desire, and lust twisted and warred with each other inside his mind. It wasn't until he heard the click of the front door that he realized Lucas had left.

What the hell had he done?