Chapter 3

Chapter Three

WINTER

Maybe James was trying to kill me. Because it was quite possible he was really a serial killer whose signature method was death-by-swoon. All I can see is a beautiful, lovely girl named Winter, and I think she should marry me.

Seriously, WTF just happened?

James Blakney said those words to me.

Right after telling me I was beautiful and lovely.

I snorted out a laugh in the foyer of my apartment, dropping my messenger bag and backpack where I stood. Yeah, I might be in good physical shape and have youth on my side, but any more talk like that from James and my heart would be at risk. For cardiac arrest as well as breaking.

What? Did he think I was made of stone or something? He’s lucky I didn’t climb him like a tree in the parking garage with the way he’d looked at me. And touched me. Jesus…

I brought my fingers to my lips and traced the path he’d used with his own fingers. Ever since I’d moved into this building six months ago, something had been different with James.

Ever since the mess with Chris.

It was James who prepared the restraining order against my ex because Caleb asked him. So James knew some of the story, but probably not all. I wished I knew exactly what Caleb had shared about the situation, but I suspected it wasn’t much, because Caleb would keep it in the family. I knew my brother, and he spent a good portion of his time protecting our family. That’s just the kind of person he was.

But…my God, James was in fine form tonight with the flirting.

That was flirting, right?

He’d always been a little flirty with me, but I knew he didn’t mean anything by it. Unspoken logic had kept things pretty simple over the years. He teased, I laughed. Meaningless stuff between two friends.

But was it meaningless? If it isn’t spoken, then it isn’t true. Very shitty logic in my opinion, but oh how we all love to believe in miracles. And it would be a miracle if James Blakney really wanted me. It would be a miracle if James wanted me to answer his flirtation with a determined, "Yes, I’m yours for the taking."

In the past, I’d known exactly where I stood with James—basically a second little sister to him, as well as a close family friend. But now, I was so confused about what was really going on with us, and I’d lost some of my confidence around him. I had trouble knowing how to act or what to say. Where conversations between us had always felt easy, now there was tension. Straight-up sexual tension. There was no other way to describe it.

Any sort of attraction on my end would greatly complicate things. Maybe it could even destroy our friendship. Or possibly damage the close friendship between James and Caleb, something that went back decades to their time at St. Damien’s.

At the moment, Caleb was very busy running BGE, and enjoying his new girlfriend, Brooke.

Never had the mighty bachelor fallen so hard. My brother had done it in style for one very lovely British girl he’d met by accident, but who also turned out to be the granddaughter of our former housekeeper at Blackwater—Mrs. Casterley, who was now Mrs. Blackstone since marrying our uncle Herman last weekend. Fate can work in mysterious ways.

I’d watched the whole thing unfold before my eyes and still had trouble believing it. But Brooke was absolutely perfect for Caleb. They were so in love, and it was pure poetry seeing them together. If anyone should be getting engaged it was the two of them.

But why on earth would James say I think you should marry me just now?

Made no sense.

And really, it was kind of hurtful to tease when he so obviously meant it as a joke. And why was he coming in so late? It certainly looked like a booty call to me. He had to get it from somewhere, because since the whole Leah mess, I’d never known James to date anyone. He’d been single since the day he was to have married that bitch. Based on his past history with weddings and marriage, I really didn’t understand where he could possibly be coming from with the sort of comment he made to me tonight.

He acted like I was a little sister one minute, but then in the next he didn’t treat me like a sister at all. And lately, there had been something more in his attentions than what I’d consider brotherly. How he looked at me. The things he said often had me considering a double meaning. When he came to pick me up for dinner with Caleb and Brooke a few weeks ago, he checked me out from top to bottom, even requested I spin for him before declaring I looked good enough to eat. Then he brought my hands to his lips and kissed them both. He did it in a way that looked a little bit wicked and a lot hungry. Which had left me totally at his mercy as a jolt of sexy landed right between my legs—aaaaand forbidden images of him using his mouth on me flickered through my head.

Not good.

Very bad, in fact.

Brothers didn’t say such things to girls they considered a little sister.

Sisters didn’t imagine having filthy sex with the guy who had been like a brother to her, either.

No, they did not. I have three brothers and a lifetime of experience in the covert ways they operated. I didn’t want or need any more "brothers" added to my collection. But I did love James, so I’d take him any way I could have him. If it were a platonic dinner between two friends, then I wouldn’t turn him down. But the thing that confused me so much was how it didn’t feel anything close to platonic anymore.

Honestly, things hadn’t felt very platonic for weeks, ever since that night he ran into Sam and me in the elevator as we were heading to my apartment after dinner. He blew me off when I tried to introduce Sam, and barely acknowledged us when we got off at the eleventh floor. I turned back and met James eye to eye for a second before the elevator doors closed between us. He looked, for lack of a better term, jealous of seeing me with another man.

He had no reason to be jealous though, because Sam was only my advisor at the South Boston Youth Center where I was doing my clinical for my master’s. I also considered Sam a friend. He was definitely not a booty call, but James didn’t bother to find that part out. He just assumed Sam was going "back to my place" for some after-date sexy-time.

Not even close.

I wasn’t sure of Sam’s sexual orientation for one thing. And I wasn’t about to ask him for clarification on that point for another. Our dinner was one hundred percent business oriented. Sam had wanted to bring a discussion about my options after I finished school to the table for the youth center. I did need to start thinking about what I wanted to do with a graduate degree in social work, one of which would have my name on it when the semester ended in another month. I was graduating mid-year because of the time I’d taken off when my dad was sick. I wouldn’t go through commencement ceremonies until the spring, but classes would be over for me in a matter of weeks.

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 windingdown 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 in 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 managedto 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.