Chapter 16

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

The late afternoonsun bathed Lake Michigan in a dazzling array of colors. London always enjoyed driving through this part of the city. Something about being near the water grounded her, not to mention how it always eased the tension that knotted her shoulders. She glanced out the passenger window toward the lake, glad to know she’d be able to look out over the same water to find her peace when she moved to Chicago.

A move that couldn’t come soon enough.

Visiting with Westbrook’s clients was normally the favorite part of her job. She liked chatting with small business owners to find that one golden nugget she could use to promote them. Whether it was filming Orlando’s ridiculous dad jokes or organizing a ribbon cutting on stilts for the new gymnastics place, London was all about it. No two accounts were the same and neither were the campaigns she designed for them.

Today, however, everyone had a gripe about something. Why aren’t my social media stats improving? Why weren’t there more customers at the grand opening?

Dealing with a myriad of clients with different budgets—even some with no budget—never used to bother her. Until today. Variety, it turned out, was not always the spice of life. She was surprised at the relief she felt knowing that in a few weeks, the accounts would be someone else’s problem.

At Nolan and Hemphill, London would be able to work on the larger media projects she’d always dreamed of. Evan was already dangling two international clients her way. Both wanted short films for their shareholders’ meetings. Even better, both had killer budgets.

All she had to do was survive the Gunther Cheese campaign. Of course, that would be easier said than done after her foolish “lapse in judgment” earlier today.

“Arghh!” She adjusted the AC vents in an effort to cool the flush that scorched her skin every time she relived that kiss. Not that she would label what transpired outside the locker room as a simple “kiss.” Nope. It was more like an assault. For God’s sake, she’d climbed the man like a tree, practically devouring him like he was her last meal.

But his response—oh, my.

He met her breath for breath with deep, drugging kisses of his own. The touch of his lips immediately robbed her of any coherent thought. Not to mention her inhibitions. His very skilled fingers left a trail of fire everywhere they touched. And when his skin made contact with her skin? Well, she was surprised she hadn’t climaxed right there on the spot.

She groaned again. What had she been thinking throwing herself at him like that? All she could do was chock it up to an out-of-body experience. One that would have her tangled up in her sheets for weeks. And one that could never, ever be repeated. Never mind the protests from the parts of her body that disagreed.

London had been wrong in her belief that Trey Van Horn’s kisses were memorable merely because they were her first. She’d had a little bit of experience under her belt now, and she could safely say his kisses were all that and more.

So.Much. More.

The realization made her sad, though. Sad for what might have been. Sad that she would never have that with anyone else. That was something she was absolutely sure of. Trey was her “one” as Lucy would say. The problem was, she didn’t have it in her to trust the man ever again. She didn’t dare. It had taken her too long to find the wherewithal to move on. To choose her dreams.

But now she was choosing them. It was a good thing Trey wasn’t aware of how much power he had over her body—mainly her heart. Because she had no intention of ever giving him that much power again. She was taking her life by the reins and steering it the way she wanted it to go.

Even if his tender words earlier continued to worm their way under her skin. Or if his championing of Kyle made her heart sing. She couldn’t let those things deter her from her course.

Which begged the question: Where did they go from here?

There was no denying her behavior earlier was highly unprofessional. They had two days of commercials to shoot together in a few weeks. She had no doubt Trey would be able to shake it off. He was probably used to women throwing themselves at him. The other day, he’d promised her he was fully committed to seeing this endorsement deal through. To making it a success. In order for that to happen, London simply had to keep her wits about her—and her hands to herself—and trust him enough to believe he meant what he said. After all, her future depended on it.

She slowed down to allow the car coming from the opposite direction to pass before making a left turn into Trey’s driveway. Trey didn’t need to text her the address. She already knew it by heart.

The stately Tudor home was partially hidden behind an iron gate, but she had no doubt the views of the lake were breathtaking from its top floors. She’d seen photos of the home’s interior a few years ago when a local magazine featured it as its cover story. Not that she’d ever admit to stalking Trey or anything. Her dog-eared copy of the magazine was simply research for when she owned a home like that one day.

Or so she told herself.

A buzzer sounded as soon as she reached the gate before it slowly swung open. Trey must have been watching for her.

“Down girls,” she told the parts of her quivering with excitement. Trey wasn’t anxiously awaiting her arrival because he wanted a repeat of earlier. More likely, he was drained from Kyle bombarding him with endless questions over the past four hours. Chuckling to herself, she pulled her car next to a Lincoln Navigator parked in the drive. She had warned Trey.

London was trying to decide which door she should approach when a side door, partially hidden among the wisteria climbing the brick, opened. A Kendrick Lamar tune blared from inside. Trey stepped out looking tempting as hell in a T-shirt and joggers. She cursed her nipples for their instant reaction. Clearly, her little pep talk on the ride over had been tuned out by parts of her body.

Trey flashed her a predatory grin as if he could sense her internal struggle, damn him.

“Hi.” His eyes took a lazy tour of her from head to toe and back up again.

She felt her cheeks go pink knowing that he was probably picturing the skimpy thong she was wearing beneath her dress. It was all she could do to keep her gaze on his face rather than checking for a reaction on other parts of him.

“Trey.” She cursed herself for the breathless way she uttered his name. Clearing her throat, she began again. “Trey, what happened today can’t happen again.” Her girl parts whimpered. “I need to know that you understand that.”

His smile faded, but he nodded. “It’s not in my nature to force myself on a woman.”

“Okay. Good. That’s-that’s good.” She mimicked his nod. “Is Kyle ready to go?”

“He may need a little coaxing.”

Trey stepped to the side to allow her to enter. When she was beside him, however, he put his arm up, blocking the door. He lowered his lips next to her ear.

“For the record,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning her neck. “I have a different set of standards for women who force themselves on me.”

She bit back a moan. “It was⁠—”

“A lapse in judgment.” He lifted his head so that their gazes collided. “So you keep saying.”

They stood there for a fraught moment, his pupils captivating her when they darkened to burnt gold. She tried to force her eyes away, but it was no use.

“You promised,” she whispered. “I told you this account is important to me. I can’t allow any complications to mess it up.”

He dropped his stare to her lips, tenderly stroking the bottom one with his thumb. “So I did. I also promised I’d do anything for you, London. All you have to do is ask.”

Her body was drunk on his smoldering looks, his sensuous touch, and his words laced with double meanings. It was screaming at her to “ask” him to take her inside and let his talented hands and mouth finish what they started outside the locker room. Fortunately, her brain was still sober enough to be the designated driver.

“I’d like for us to keep this professional,” she managed to get out.

Trey studied her for a few seconds longer before dropping both his hands to his sides. “Done.”

London knew she should be relieved at his quick acquiescence, but the lick of disappointment winding through her chest was sharp. Decide what you want, girly-pop, she chastised herself, before offering him a wan smile and hurrying into the house.

“Are you kidding me?” she gushed as soon as she entered his kitchen.

The magazine spread did not do the room justice. In spite of the kitchen’s massive size, it was warm and homey. The high ceilings boasted wood beams that had been stained to match the off-white cabinets, making the space appear even roomier. A stunning copper hood gleamed above the professional range. Next to it was a wall of ovens that would be a baker’s delight.

Across the room, the extra-large farm sink was tucked into an archway featuring a triple box bay window behind it, giving whoever had dish duty the perfect view of the pool and lush gardens out back. The entire room was set off by wide-plank wood floors stained the perfect honey brown.

Trey picked up a remote control, lowering the volume on the music. The sound of a video game being played in another room filled the void.

London spread her hands out on the quartz covering the massive island. “This is exactly what I’ve been picturing.”

“You were fantasizing about my kitchen?”

Little does he know.

“No.” Except maybe she had been. Maybe when she pictured Trey doing the Gunther commercials, she’d been subconsciously imagining him in his own kitchen. It made sense given how many times she’d peeked at the magazine images over the years.

“No,” she repeated. “The kitchen I’ve been picturing for the commercials. I’ve been searching for locations all over the state, but I still haven’t found the one that’s a right fit for the aesthetic I want.” She circled the island so she could trace her fingers along the oversized stainless steel fridge. “Do you mind if I look inside?”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She pulled open both doors, sighing when she saw the entire thing was backlit. They wouldn’t have to rig it with extra lighting. Even better, the fridge was nearly empty. No surprise there given his ridiculous diet.

“You’re welcome to use this place for the commercial.”

London spun around. “Really?” She resisted the urge to do a happy dance.

“Why not? It would make everything authentic.”

“But you’d have strangers traipsing in and out of your house for two days. They’d have to set up and take down each day. It can get pretty intrusive. We typically use model homes.”

Shut up already,she told herself before she talked him out of it.

He waved his hand. “That’s no problem. I won’t be staying here.”

“What do you mean?”

Trey opened a drawer and pulled out a set of keys. “I stay at the hotel during training camp. Having people in and out won’t disturb me.”

Was he for real?

“You stay in a hotel when training camp is only eight miles away?”

“Quite a few of the guys have families that live somewhere other than Milwaukee. They stay in a hotel during camp. Rookies, too. It’s optional for everyone else. But I like the team comradery that being together twenty-four seven fosters.”

Of course he did. She leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms in front of her. “Like a frat house? Hazing the rookies by short-sheeting their bed?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure. Exactly like that.”

She was having trouble picturing Trey letting loose and actually acting silly. At least not this version of Trey.

“Well, I’m not going to turn down your offer to use this fabulous kitchen, then.”

He tossed the keys at her. “You can use it whenever you want, London.”

The sultry way he made the offer had her hands shaking and she nearly dropped the keys.

“London!” Kyle raced into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I had the best day ever!”

The pure joy in his smile melted away some of the worry she’d been feeling since his revelation earlier. Between appointments today, she’d called a high school friend who now taught at Kyle’s school. Her friend was unaware of her brother being bullied. In fact, she said, Kyle was a favorite among kids of all grades. But that didn’t mean things hadn’t been said outside of a teacher’s hearing. She promised to scope out the situation with Kyle’s former teacher and get back to London.

“The best? Really? Even better than when I took you to Disney?”

Kyle shot her a sheepish smile. “Okay, the best day this summer.” His smile faded. “Don’t tell Alek, though, okay. Because hockey camp was really cool. Except I had to skate on the pee-wee line.”

She brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Your secret is safe with me. Just remember, you’re not going to be a pee-wee forever, though. Okay?”

His face lit up again and he pulled out of her embrace. “Did you know that Luke Kessler was my size when he was nine? And now he’s the greatest receiver ever!!”

Trey snorted. “That’s what Luke thinks. He’s going to have to earn that title again this season.”

“Go get your stuff,” she told her brother. “We are going to Pirelli’s for pizza.” The restaurant was a long-time client of the agency. “Mama P is making your favorite.”

“Yes! Can Trey come?”

Of course Kyle would ask that. It would be rude not to invite him after all he’d done for her today. Except she wasn’t sure she trusted herself around him. Not that Trey was any help with his murmured sultry comments and casual touches. They needed to keep things professional if she was going to pull this campaign off. And that meant keeping her distance from the sexy quarterback.

“I’m having dinner with the rookies tonight, partner,” he saved her by saying. “Next time, though, for sure.”

Kyle sprinted back down the hall.

London grinned with relief. “Thank you for your help with him today.”

“He’s a good kid. I can see why Pops likes him so much.”

“That’s because he can take out his hearing aids and tune Kyle out when he needs to.”

Trey threw back his head and laughed. The sound did strange things to her belly. She didn’t think this version of him had any joy in it.

Kyle returned, trying to juggle a pair of footballs, a baseball cap, and some jerseys.

“Do you have everything?” she asked, reaching for some of his swag before he dropped it.

“I think so.” Kyle checked the path he’d run from the other room. “Oh, and guess what? Trey has a big picture just like the one you have at your place.”

London paused from folding a jersey. “What?” The only “big” pictures London had in her condo were prints of photos she’d taken.

“Back there.” Kyle pointed down the hall. “In the study.”

She glanced up at Trey. His face was unreadable. Dumping the jerseys onto the counter, she hurried down the hall, peeking into a dining room, a hall bath, and a butler’s pantry before she reached what must be the study. There, above the fireplace, was a photo she’d taken of a sunset over the lake, the pink and purple sky the perfect backdrop for the tangerine sun sliding into the onyx water. Her timing had been perfect, allowing her to capture the rings of fading sunshine as they spread out over the rippling lake.

Kyle was correct. It was the same one she had hanging over her fireplace.

London stared at it for several moments, bewildered. How? Why? He’d left her at that boathouse without a word. He hadn’t bothered to reach out in ten years. Yet, one of her favorite photos hung inside his home. He knew it was hers, too. He’d been the one to hoist her to the roof of the boathouse to capture the image.

“You sent it to my phone right after you took it. You were so proud of how perfect it was.”

Trey was directly behind her. The heat radiating from his body was making all of her pheromones break out in a dance. It was all she could do not to sink back into him, remembering that long ago shared moment when he’d been her world.

Except she remembered the night he’d left her alone, too. The memory was tattooed onto her heart where it served as a constant reminder never to trust him again. Yet, he’d kept the photo all this time. He’d not only kept it, he had it blown up and framed where he could see it every day.

“Why?” she whispered.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, and London was beginning to believe he wouldn’t answer her. Then she wished he wouldn’t have.

“Because if I had to give you up, I still wanted to keep a piece of you with me.”

It didn’t make sense. What did he mean he had to give her up?

“London! I thought we were getting pizza,” Kyle called from the kitchen. “I’m starrrrrving.”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter,” she told herself, not caring if Trey heard her or not. “I don’t have time for this.” She turned on her heel and edged around him. “I’ll make the arrangements with the crew. As soon as the scripts are ready, I’ll email them to you.”