brother looked sheepish. “We were in competition at a sports agency...and there might have been a woman involved, too.”
Great. She took a bite of her omelet. She could just imagine her brother involved in a love triangle. Almost. She didn’t want any more details.
“Fans come to see Jordan in action,” Dante cajoled.
“Whatever.” From what she could tell, Jordan was still in fantastic shape despite his injury, and she didn’t care how much money he had on the table. The guy had major bank already—what was a few million, more or less, to him?
“Sera, I’m asking.”
Sera shifted in her seat. Because, for once, the tables were turned. Her brother needed her help—unlike when he’d stepped in to bail her out when they were younger. Sure, he’d been a thorn in her side with his antics—keeping her on edge—but he’d also cast a protective mantle. Unlike her, Dante remembered the child their parents had lost at birth, and it was almost like he’d absorbed their unspoken worries about losing another loved one. So, he’d issued warnings about situations to avoid at school, stood up for her when she’d been picked on as a kid and, yes, kept some of her secrets from their parents.
On the other hand, Jordan threatened the safe and tidy world that she’d worked hard to build for herself. She knew just how potent his kisses could be, and she was nobody’s fool. Not anymore. If she stepped up for Dante, she’d be walking a fine line...
* * *
Sera folded her arms as she stepped into the examining room. “So you’re stuck with me.”
Jordan was leaning against the treatment table, crutches propped up next to him. He was billboard-ready good-looking even under the fluorescent lights of the room. She, on the other hand, was in her usual shapeless scrubs. Clearly, if he didn’t enjoy toying with her, she’d be beneath his notice—which ran to models, actresses and reality stars these days, if his press was to be believed.
Jordan’s expression turned to one of surprise, and then he gave his trademark insouciant grin. “I’m stuck with you? And here I thought the best part of the day was getting to sample your cannoli bruschetta mash-up recipe along with the rest of the staff. It was delicious, by the way.”
“Well, you were wrong,” she deadpanned. Why did she feel a thrill at his compliment?
“What prompted the change of heart? Don’t keep me waiting. This is the most suspense I’ve had in ages.”
“I’m sure it’s a rare occurrence for a woman to keep you cooling your heels.”
Jordan’s smile widened. “What do you think?”
She ignored the question and gritted her teeth instead. Best to get this over with. “My brother, Dante, just got a job with the Razors. Marketing VP, to be exact.”
Jordan raised his eyebrows and then his lips quirked. “You Perinis can’t seem to stay away from professional hockey players.”
She gave him a frosty smile. “Let me remind you that I was initially recruited for this job. I didn’t volunteer.”
“The end result is the same.”
“Now I’m helping out Dante by getting you back on your feet.”
“Of course.”
Well, that was easy.
“Do I get anything in return for helping you out?”
Sera narrowed her eyes. She’d spoken too soon. This was more like the Jordan Serenghetti she expected. “Don’t be evil. The chance to spread some beneficence should be good enough for you.”
Jordan laughed, looking not the least bit insulted. “Now I understand why you showed up for my appointment today as scheduled—instead of, you know, feigning typhoid or something.”
“Count your blessings.”
“So you’re going to agree to be my physical therapist, and here I was about to let you off the hook.”
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“The silver lining is that I get to make you sweat.”
“Some people pay to see that, you know.”
Of course she knew Jordan got paid millions for his skills on the ice. Still... “Don’t you ever stop?”
“Not when it’s this much fun.”
“Well then, I guess it’s time for me to stop making it so enjoyable for you.”
“You know, I really was going to let you off the hook today.” Jordan shrugged. “Cole came to see me because you were adamant about not being my therapist. Obviously, you’ve had a change of heart.”
Now she looked like an opportunist. She didn’t know that Marisa had followed through and told Cole to have a talk with Jordan. “Why didn’t you cancel your appointment? Or ask for someone else before your scheduled time?”
“I didn’t want you to look bad at the office. I figured it would be better if the word came from you.”
Sera lowered her shoulders. She felt bad—guilty... Damn him. She was only trying to help her brother!
Jordan just stood there, being himself—all sexy. Badass abs and chiseled pecs under a formfitting T-shirt, square jaw, magnetic green eyes and all.
Sera gritted her teeth again. She could do this. She...owed him. “Thanks.”
He cupped his hand to his ear. “What was that?”
And just like that, they were back to squabbling. She knew she was rising to the bait, but she couldn’t help herself. “Thank you...for giving me the opportunity to see you grunt and sweat.”
Jordan laughed but then started leveraging himself onto the treatment table. “Ready when you are.”
She moved aside his crutches and then helped him stretch his legs before him. When he was settled, she examined his knee. After a few moments of poking and prodding, she had to admit he was coming along nicely. “The swelling is about as good as we can expect at this stage.”
“So I heal well?”
She looked up. “You’re a professional athlete at the top of your game. It’s not surprising.” When he looked pleased, she added, “Today we’re going to focus on increasing mobility and improving your quad function even more.”
“Sounds...fun,” he remarked drily. “You know, it’s amazing we didn’t know each other in high school. You lost some opportunities to kick my butt.”
“Amazing isn’t the word I’d use.” More like a relief. Her teenage self could have gotten into big trouble with Jordan. As it was...but she was older and wiser now.
“Marisa mentioned you grew up in East Gannon. Right next door.”
“And yet a world away.” East Gannon was Welsdale’s poor cousin. People had small clapboard homes, not mansions with expensive landscaping.
Jordan looked thoughtful. “Welsdale High played East Gannon plenty of times.”
“I didn’t pay much attention to hockey in high school. I left that stuff to Dante.”
Jordan’s expression registered surprise. “And you call yourself a New Englander?”
She stuck out her chin. “I played volleyball.”
Jordan’s eyes gleamed. “An athlete. I knew there must be something we had in common.”
Sera stopped herself from rolling her eyes.
“And you