James was well aware of all of this. We saw each other often enough for him to know since I'd moved into the building. After Dad died, I'd asked Caleb if I could take one of the apartments in his building because I'd desperately needed a fresh start. Caleb lived at the top in the three-level penthouse, complete with a rooftop garden and a spectacular view of the Charles River Valley. He'd been happy to help me out, and now I enjoyed my independence living alone in an eleventh-floor apartment with a view almost as nice as my brother's.
We all knew what was going on in each other's lives for the most part. When Caleb met Brooke, the rest of us found out right away. It was impossible to keep secret the fact she stayed over with him constantly. So, when I witnessed a hostile James over my non-date with a colleague from work, I couldn't help pondering what he was thinking.
Why would James be jealous…does he feel more than I thought?
Dr. Drummond was winding down his lecture on ethics in governmental policy, when I saw a man pass by through the small window in the door on the far right of the classroom. He looked remarkably familiar when he came into view a moment later through the window in the door on the far left.
Why in the hell was James in the hallway outside of my ethics class at eight thirty on a Wednesday night?
"Let's be back here by eight fifty-five, please." Dr. Drummond announced it was break time and took off out the back exit while digging into his pocket for his cigarettes.
I stayed in my seat and texted James. Why are you outside of my classroom right now?
His reply was immediate. Why don't you come out here and find out?
When I made my way into the hallway, James was leaning against the wall looking far too sexy for his own good. Or mine for that matter. Gone was the impeccably tailored suit he wore so well for work, and in its place dark jeans paired with a white T-shirt and a leather jacket. James did casual just as well as the suits. Like that was a surprise. He always looked good.
"What are you doing here?" I asked as I came up to him.
He brought his arm up and dangled a white carry-out bag. "I brought you something more substantial than a granola bar for dinner." He pushed off from the wall and grinned one of his teasingly sexy signature James-smirks just a few inches from my face, before quickly dropping a kiss onto my cheek.
"You brought me dinner…to my night class on campus?" I mumbled the question, trying to process what he'd just said but clearly not doing such a great job.
"Uh-huh." He steered me forward with a palm burning into the skin of my lower back where my shirt had ridden up a little. It was only a few of his fingers touching me, but I felt every millimeter of contact in perfect clarity. "And we better quit standing here in the hallway and start eating before your professor smokes his last cigarette and comes back."
"Everything okay, Winter?" Ryan called from behind me. Seriously? Ryan was nice enough, but I wasn't interested in anything beyond a peer study group relationship, and I didn't think he'd understood that message yet. Was he checking on me because a few of us usually headed for the vending machines at break, and I was changing up the routine? Ryan depicted the man I was used to but hated as well with a seething passion—guys whose interest in me was first and foremost because of my trust fund. Sometimes it sucked being a rich girl, but I knew better than to ever voice that complaint out loud. It was something I had to accept and deal with silently, because it wasn't going away.
I sighed and turned to answer. "Everything's fine, Ryan. I'm with a friend."
"That's right, douchebag," James muttered just loud enough it was possible Ryan heard him as he continued to lead us farther away. I sighed again, dreading the dual inquisitions of "who is that guy" which would surely come from both James and Ryan before this night was over.
"Where are we going, and why are you here again?"
"This will do." James stopped in front of the next door into an empty classroom and tugged me inside. He flicked on the light and set his bag on the nearest table. "I already told you why I'm here, Win." He stuck an arm inside the bag and lifted his eyes up to mine. "To feed you."
Those three little words came out of his mouth laced with pure sex. To feed you. I think I might have moaned out loud. "Ahh…w-what did you bring m-me?" Screw that I was still confused. To render me captive, all James had to do was speak a three-word sentence in some kind of flirting sex-language…in which he was completely fluent.
He grinned as he took the lid off of a white Styrofoam bowl and stuck in a plastic spoon. "Clam chowder from Shorty's."
My stomach took the opportunity to remind me I was suddenly ravenously hungry by growling loud enough for him to probably hear.
"You know me well." It was no surprise he knew what I loved best at Shorty's, because we'd eaten from there a million times over the years. I took his offered bowl of my favorite soup in the world and thanked him before dropping into a chair. I busied myself with one of the hand-wipe packets he'd set out on the table before taking a spoonful. It tasted divine as usual, and I moaned on purpose.
"I most certainly do." He stretched his legs out and leaned back all relaxed while watching me eat.
"You do," I said after a full minute of silence. Then I stared him down as he lounged in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. "But what I don't know is why you've brought this most delicious soup from Shorty's to me at the precise location of my night class on campus, and at the exact time we're ready to take our break. That all takes coordination and forward thinking, James, and I'd like an explanation for what in the hell is going on here"
"Well, it wasn't really that hard to find you on campus since you told me last week the professor was Drummond and the class was ethics. No, that part was easy." He unclasped his hands from behind his head and placed them on the table. "What freaked me the hell out was that you don't have your car here to take you home at ten when your class is over." The easy grin was now replaced with a touch of annoyance. "I'd planned to take you to get something to eat before class, but imagine my surprise when I found your car parked neatly in its spot. I said to myself, 'Winter wouldn't take the T to campus for an evening class. She's too smart to risk her safety like that.' But apparently I was wrong." He set his jaw forward…calling my bluff. "Please tell me you weren't planning to ride the T alone this late at night, Win."
Shit. I couldn't help squirming in my chair under his intense interrogation. "I…was…I didn't think it would be that big a deal. The T is safe enough," I offered lamely.
"The fuck it is," he barked. "What about the part where you're alone and walking that many blocks to get to the station and then to get home? That's not fucking safe, and you know it."
"I don't do it that often, only when I can't come directly from the center." Even I had to admit my excuse sounded stupidly weak. "I didn't work today."
"Even once is too often," he said sternly, the edge of his jaw set in a hard line. Still deadly handsome even while pissed at me. Of course.
"I'll drive from now on for the Wednesday night class. It's the only evening I have…and usually someone walks me to my car, so you really don't have to worry."
He snorted at that response. "You mean someone like Ryan the douchebag stalker?"
"Ryan's not that bad." He kind of was though.
"Trust me, Ryan's got his eye on you, and before you say no, please remember I'm a guy who recognizes exactly what that looks like. He definitely wants you." James was leaning back again, but now he had his fingers steepled as he flexed them back and forth while studying me.
"No, he really wants what's in my wallet," I snapped back. "All guys do once they find out my last name." And here I thought women were the only ones with dollar signs in their eyes when it came to a partner. Chris certainly proved that wrong for me.
He frowned at my comment and then checked his watch. "You have seven minutes left. Better finish your soup."
"Don't think I haven't noticed how you never answered my question of why you brought it to me i
n the first place."
"Six minutes." His stern expression had me squirming again.
I took another few bites before popping the lid back on and settling my eyes on him. I waited for my explanation. I wasn't letting it go.
He stared right back at me, but his expression had softened to the point that the sternness had been replaced with another cocky smirk.
"James." I shook my head at him, exasperated.
"Winter." He blinked once with his slow sexy eyes raking over me as if I was naked.
"Why did you come?"
His eyes flared a tiny bit at the word "come" and just like that we were back to the Land of Innuendo with the comments being tossed around.
"So, you won't tell me." I waited while another beat of silence stretched out like an aeon of time, desperately wishing I could know what was really going on inside his head.
He finally spoke. "Because a granola bar for dinner is not acceptable for you."
I scoffed at that pitiful lie. "You expect me to believe that you, my very busy corporate lawyer friend, have time to be concerned about my lack of a proper dinner on one night of my week."
He nodded slowly from his lounging position in the chair, seemingly at ease with my question.
"Was that a yes?" I pushed for a little more, even though my heart felt like it might bust out of my chest.
"Mm-hmm."
"You care about what I eat for dinner," I said again, unbelieving.
"I care about everything that has to do with you." His eyes burned into mine as he said it.
How I managed to stumble back into my seat for Dr. Drummond part deux I will never know. I certainly didn't hear one word or write down a single note. I ignored Ryan's curious glances and watched the clock instead. My heart was racing too fast to comprehend anything beyond what James had said to me during the break. I care about everything that has to do with you.
Was he telling me he was attracted to me? Tonight it was hard to justify his intentions merely as that of a concerned friend. He'd been nothing but clear when he'd made the comment. He'd also been clear about the fact he'd be waiting when class was over to take me home.
Chapter Four
JAMES
Winter didn't say a whole lot on the drive home. She sat in the passenger seat of my car with her arms crossed looking beautiful…and mad. My traitorous cock loved the way she looked too.
A whole fucking lot.
The erotic Winter fantasies I often indulged in weren't even close to being contained anymore. While I'd waited for her class to finish in the empty classroom, all I'd been able to think about was how badly I wanted her bent over my knee. I'd spank that fine ass of hers until it was beautifully reddened by my hand, and all thoughts of wandering the streets alone at night were out of her pretty head for good.
I knew she was pissed at me for not saying why I'd come tonight, but I couldn't tell her the truth. What was I supposed to say? I can't think of anything but you most of the time and worrying about you in a dangerous situation makes me fucking mental. She didn't know how I felt about her. Not that I was very sure of how I felt, either. My headspace was so fucked up since my father's ultimatum, and I had no idea what I was doing with her anymore. My obsession had only grown with the urge to claim her as mine.
At least I didn't think she knew.
Maybe I'd revealed my hand tonight, because the shit that had tumbled out of my mouth in that classroom during her break was not so subtle. Time to dial it back again. I had to…for her sake.
I pulled into the underground structure of our building and parked in my spot. I made no move to get out of the car though, because first I needed to make sure we were okay. "Winter, I hope you're—"
"You won't have to do this next week," she blurted into the uncomfortable silence.
"Maybe I want to. I don't consider it a burden."
"No, you really don't have to, because Dr. Drummond has cancelled class due to Thanksgiving the next day. He said all we have is a paper to turn in and to sign the attendance sheet and then we can go." She was still mad at me, and that sucked.
"Ahh, makes sense."
"And next Wednesday I'm working, so I can drive myself to class from the center. I'll be busy getting ready for Thursday's big meal at the center anyway, so that will work better."
"Aren't you having Thanksgiving at your mom's?" I wondered what they were all doing since this was their first holiday since they'd lost their dad. It would be hard on all of them.
"Not this year. Mom will be in Charleston with her cousins. She said she couldn't bear to have it at home without Dad this f-first y-year," she stammered, as her voice grew shallow. God, my beautiful girl, don't cry.
"Right. I'm so sorry, Win. The holidays must make you all miss him even more."
"Yeah…" She dropped her head as a soft sob escaped.
The sounds of her crying pulled a visceral reaction out of me. I didn't think beyond another second of what I should do. I pulled her into my arms and held her with the console between us as she cried. I breathed in the scent of her, as I stroked the back of her head over and over. Holding her against me so close—offering her comfort—felt like heaven, even though the reason for it was horrible. She was hurting and missing her father, an honorable and beloved man she would never see for the rest of her life. It wasn't fair, but it was her reality.
I had no idea how long I held her, but eventually the sobs quieted. "If you feel like talking, I'd love to hear a story about your dad." I felt her press into me a bit harder as she comprehended what I'd said. I waited and kept on smoothing the back of her head with my hand. Letting go of her was not an option.
"On Th-thanksgiving every year, Dad had us all share what we were most thankful for that year. It's there with my earliest memories, so I know he had each of us doing it by the time we could talk. It was j-just p-p-part of the deal."
I could totally picture Winter as a small girl having her turn at the table. She'd always been sweet and caring. "Let me guess. You were so thankful for some new toy, that you wanted to give it to a poor kid who wasn't as lucky as you."
She burrowed deeper into me, and I did nothing to stop her. I wished we weren't in my car right now so I could really hold her…and see her. "Sometimes…" she sniffed. "Participation was compulsory, and we had to listen to everyone else share theirs without making fun."
"You're such a good person, Win." She couldn't even deny that as a child she gave away her toys to those less fortunate. What kid even thinks about doing that? My Winter, that's who.
She's not mine though, no matter how much I want her to be.
"What are your Thanksgiving plans?" she asked softly.
My father's demand that I take my chosen bride to him for turkey dinner waved in my face like red flag. I hadn't forgotten his deadline—which made this conversation even harder. I had nobody to take home, because I refused to do my father's ridiculous bidding.
In a perfect world, the beautiful woman in my arms would be with me because she wanted to be. Because it was right and good. Because she loved me and we were the right fit.
I spoke against hair that smelled like oranges, wishing she was tucked against me in my bed right now. Wishing I woke to this scent each day. "The usual command performance at my parents'. My mom really wants us there, and I can't say no to her. You?"
"Well, on Thanksgiving Day, I'll be serving at the center for the dinner they're putting on for the homeless and less-fortunate families in the area."
"You're not having Thanksgiving with the rest of your family?" Her answer surprised the hell out of me. First time without JW and they won't be together?
She shook her head against my chest. "Since Mom will be in Charleston, we decided to do our own thing this year. I'll be at the center serving food. Caleb and Brooke will be holed up in Brooke's cottage on the island most likely. Willow will go with Roger to his parents' in Connecticut. Wyatt is working on a film in L.A., and said he can't get away."
"Th
at's not right, Win, for you to be alone on Thanksgiving."
"I'll be fine, because Lucas has invited us to his place on the day after. So, we're doing our Thanksgiving celebration on Friday instead of Thursday, sans parents. And one brother." She sighed into me. "It will be weird, but that's what we're doing this year. We'll cook a turkey and some pumpkin pies in Lucas's big gourmet kitchen, enjoy the spectacular view from his island beach house, and probably play drunk Scrabble and video games until we pass out." I could tell she was doing her best to sound cheerful, but fuck, she shouldn't have to. She shouldn't have to care that I wouldn't be upset by what she'd just told me.
"Family can be a difficult business sometimes," I told her, wishing I could take her with me to my parents' for Thanksgiving. My father would be motherfucking joyful. Which was just another really good reason why I shouldn't drag her into his insane plot.
"I know. I just wish it didn't have to be so difficult most of the time."
"Me too." God, how I wished the same thing about being with her.
"I think you are a good person, too," she said softly. No, I'm really fucking not. I could feel her lips moving through the fabric of my shirt as she spoke, and I nearly groaned out loud. Because I wanted those lips so badly I was in grave danger of losing my mind. All I could think about was kissing her breathless until her sadness had been pushed away.
"You're a saint, and I'm a sinner. There's a huge difference between us, and don't you ever forget it."
She shook her head against me. "Not so different. And I'm definitely no saint, James." Then she pulled out of my arms and looked me straight in the eye. "If you only knew what I really want, I think you wouldn't like it," she said carefully, her breathing picking up as she faced me.