10. Jordan

Jordan

I closed the door, then went to the window so I could watch Jim walk back to his truck. I couldn't see his muscled backside clearly in the dim light, but I could see the graceful, loose limbed way he walked back across the parking lot. My fingers pressed against my lips as I thought about the kiss we'd just shared.

I'd never been kissed like that. It hadn't been awkward or tentative like every other first kiss I'd ever had. No, that kiss had been a claiming. A promise. I felt that kiss in the depths of my soul. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

At my age, it wasn't like I was inexperienced. I'd had my share of relationships over the years, even a few temporary hook-ups. And when I was in my late twenties I got married to a guy I'd been friends with for years.

It hadn't lasted long – less than five years – but there was nothing dramatic about our break-up. We'd gotten married mostly because it seemed like the thing we should do – especially with both of us facing down thirty and under pressure from our families to settle down -- but after a few years we realized that we were better as friends than lovers. Much better.

My ex-husband was remarried now with a couple of kids, but he was still my best friend. Fortunately his current wife didn't have any problems with it, because I wasn't sure what I would do without Matthew in my life. It was Matthew who'd encouraged me to take this new position when management recruited me for the job.

"I'll miss having you close by, but your life is stagnant here," Matthew told me with his usual bluntness. "You've been living in the same place, hanging out with the same people, doing the same job for years. You've been bored with your life for a long time. You need some excitement. You need to spread your wings."

Digging my cell phone out of my purse, I moved to the couch and dialed my ex-husband.

"Hey Jordy," he answered, using the nickname he'd given me when we first started hanging out years ago.

"Can you talk privately?" I asked.

I liked Matthew's wife, but that didn't mean I wanted her eavesdropping on our conversations. I knew my friend was a vault, but I wasn't so sure about his wife.

"Hold on." I heard some shuffling, then a door closing. "Okay, I'm out on the back porch. What's going on?"

"I kissed one of my employees!" I wailed.

There was a long pause. "Wait, did you just say you kissed your employee?"

"Yeah." I could feel the panic setting in. "I don't even know how it happened. Oh my God, what did I do?"

"Take a breath and start at the beginning," he instructed.

"I felt kind of, I don't know, drawn to him when I first met him," I started, before talking about the way Jim watched me at work, the forklift accident, the casual flirting at the bar, and finally, the kiss in my parking lot.

"He initiated the kiss then?" Matthew confirmed.

"Yeah, but I didn't exactly stop it." I paused, then added. "It was really good."

Matthew laughed. "I love this for you. This is exactly why I encouraged you to move away and take the new job, so you could break out of your rut and have new experiences."

"He's my employee," I reminded him. "You know very well that something like this would be a career killer for me. It's always the woman who loses in these situations."

"If something happens, can he move to another team?"

"Well, technically he's only on my team for a couple of months," I admitted. "He's covering for someone on paternity leave."

"In that case, just play it cool and when he's off your team if you still feel the same way, you can go for it."

"There's another problem. He's young, really young."

"How young is he?" Matthew asked.

"Only thirty-five," I said dramatically.

My ex-husband started laughing. "You said that like he was twenty or something. I think you're just looking for excuses, Jordy. Give the poor guy a chance, why don't you?"

I struggled to fall asleep that night, my mind racing as I replayed the kiss. I finally pulled out my trusty battery-operated boyfriend to take the edge off so I could sleep, but I still woke up cranky.

Jim knocked on my door at seven twenty-five. I grabbed my bag and lunch and opened the door. He was so broad he mostly filled up the doorway. He was wearing a baseball hat today, along with his usual faded jeans and tee shirt.

"Good morning, are you ready to go?" he asked cheerfully, looking over my shoulder like he wanted to check out my apartment.

I moved forward so he was forced to step back, then closed and locked the door behind me. "Yeah. Thanks for picking me up, I appreciate it."

In my effort to keep my voice neutral I sounded colder than I intended. I could see Jim looking at me like he was trying to read my mood.

"No problem. I texted Mac Jensen this morning and asked him to send one of his guys over to tow your vehicle to the garage and check it out. They'll call you once they have an estimate."

I started to argue, but then I realized I didn't know these people so Jim helping me would only ensure that my car got fast service.

"Thank you for taking care of that, I appreciate it."

"No problem, that's how we roll down here."

Unfortunately when the garage called later that day it wasn't good news.

"We're going to have to order a new starter for you. We don't have any on hand for a car this old. It's gonna be at least a week."

"A week?"

I was pretty sure this would never happen in Detroit. Then again, I wasn't living in Detroit.

"Yeah, sorry. It's been harder to get parts the last few years. The supply chain still hasn't recovered after the pandemic. But we'll get you fixed up as soon as we can."

"Okay," I sighed, wondering what I was going to do in the meantime. "Thank you."

I disconnected the call, then jumped as I heard Jim's voice behind me. I was in the corner of the lunchroom, but my back was turned to the door so I hadn't heard him come in.

"Troubles?"

His deep voice made me shiver.

"It's nothing. It's just going to take longer than I thought it would to fix my car. They say they need to order parts."

Jim slid into the seat across from me and placed his lunchbox on the table. I usually took my lunch a little later than him, but I wanted to talk to the mechanic so I'd taken my break early.

"Don't you worry about a thing. I'll drive you wherever you need to go."

"Oh no, thank you but it's fine," I said quickly. "I'll figure something out. Maybe I can rent a car or something."

"Jordan."

Jim did that thing again, the thing he'd done last night where he deepened his voice and sounded the tiniest bit stern. It did funny things to my insides.

"I'll drive you wherever you need to go."

I should have been irritated at the way he was trying to order me around. Or at least annoyed. Instead I released a sigh of relief and said, "Okay."