FIFTEEN: James

FIFTEEN

JAMES

The following morning

On the side of a random road

Fuck.

I slip from under the covers and step out of the tent.

Last night was the best sleep I've ever had, and I want more nights with Taryn pressed against me.

More nights with her moaning and writhing under me…

Seeing the Audi buried under snow, I pick up my shovel and start digging around the wheels. It's the best way to focus on something else. Anything else.

When I finish clearing the front tires, my phone sounds in my pocket. Stephen.

“Make it quick,” I answer. “I’m freezing.”

“Why are you freezing? Aren't you at The Four Seasons?”

“I’m hanging up if you don't get to the point.”

“Taryn hasn't made it into the office this weekend,” he says. “Should I send someone to her apartment to go check on her?”

"No. She won't be coming in until after New Year’s.”

“Um…Okay then.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” He scoffs. "Why the hell is she exempt from this mandatory work session?”

“It's a long story.”

“I’ve got time to read it.”

"She never misses the holidays with her family, so…” I pause at the sight of Taryn emerging from the tent, carrying my leftovers in her hand.

Her nipples are poking through her top.

"Hello?” Stephen yells. “Hello, James?”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “What were you saying?”

“You were the one talking,” he says. “You were about to explain why Miss Stone is officially out of the running for the second highest position because she’s too good to work during the holidays. As a matter of fact?—”

“You know what?" I interrupt him. "You and the team don't need to stay there and suffer. Go home and enjoy the holidays with your families. If any client gives us hell for changing course, I’ll handle it.”

“ What ?”

“I’ll send an official email in a few minutes.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Not at all.” I’m too busy staring at Taryn. “I’ll call you later.”

“Don't you dare hang up on me. Don’t you?—”

I end the call.

"Can I ask you something personal?” Taryn asks.

“As long as it's not about last night.”

She blushes. “It's not.”

"Good.” I motion for her to come closer.

"Do you think you'll ever forgive your brother?"

"I doubt it.”

“You’re not even willing to consider it?”

“No,” I say, “because the last time I lost a girl to a friend, I promised I would never forgive it again…Why are you asking me this?”

“Just curious.”

“Feel free to elaborate.”

“Even though what he did was messed up, it also sounds like you weren’t…” She suddenly stops talking, drops the food, and gasps.

Assuming she might be experiencing a sudden chill, I take off my coat and wrap it around her, but her breathing becomes more labored.

Tears fall down her cheeks, and it hits me.

Shit.

Lifting her, I carry her body inside the tent and dump her purse.

I find her epi-pen and press it against her thigh.

She sucks in a big breath and grabs my hand.

“I forgot to tell them to hold the garlic on my order,” I say. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She smiles weakly. “I should’ve asked before stealing your food.”

“No need to start asking now.” I squeeze her fingers. “You’ve been doing it for years. I’ve adjusted.”

“Do you mind if we rest a bit more before hitting the road again?”

“That’ll cut away time from your holidays,” I say. “We’re already pushing Christmas Eve.”

“I know.”

“Okay. I’ll finish up with the car outside.” I cover her with a blanket and prop her head with a pillow before standing, but she grabs my leg.

“I was implying for you to rest with me.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to be able to do that without wanting to fuck you again.”

"That's what I was hoping for," she says.

She pushes off the covers and I join her under them.