"What has you smiling this early in the morning?" Caleb asked wearily as he headed for the espresso machine, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed in a rumpled T-shirt and sweats. "I'm just the Starbucks stand-in for Brooke, because after I take her this coffee, I fully intend to go back to sleep."
The sight of my brother half-awake and up to get coffee for his beloved made me chuckle.
"Don't laugh," he grumbled.
"The two of you are adorable together. I'm just enjoying being witness to your transformation is all. Plus, you probably need some extra hours after all that mattress-dancing you two did last night. The ocean only drowns out so much."
He swung his head around and opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it, and perhaps even blushed a little.
"Kidding," I said, instantly feeling guilty for messing with him. "I was so exhausted, I heard nothing of your bedroom rodeo last night. I was busy sleep—"
"Going back to bed now, Winter," he said, stalking out of the kitchen, Brooke's espresso cradled carefully in his hands like it was precious cargo.
The simple encounter with my brother proved beyond a shadow of a doubt just how much he was in love with his Brooke. I sighed happily for the both of them and went back to prepping the turkey we'd eat later today.
The surgical gloves kept my incision from being exposed to any bacteria and kept it dry. So far it felt pretty normal other than a little achy in the vicinity of the cut, and I was grateful that it didn't appear I'd damaged anything permanently, like a nerve or tendon. It could have been so much worse.
Thank you, James Blakney.
As soon as the turkey was set in the oven, I headed to my room for a shower. I heard my phone chirp with a text notification the second I opened the door and stepped inside.
James: Someone is in very big trouble for not texting me last night.
Winter: OMG! I am so sorry. I was just so tired I forgot.
James: Glad u r safe but still in so much trouble.
Sweet Christ, it was hot when he turned all bossy and demanding with me. My hands shook as I decided how to reply.
Winter: Oh really?
James: Oh yes, really.
Winter: Eeep! Is it bad I just wanted to see what would happen?
James: I guess u find out on Saturday night at the ball sweetheart.
Winter: <surprised emoticon>
I waited a few minutes for another text from him but got nothing.
I had my shower and proceeded to prepare for the holiday with my family. I checked messages more than once over the course of the day and into the evening, but nothing more came from him.
James had gone silent.
And I was more confused than ever.
Chapter Thirteen
JAMES
The last time I attended The Autumn Ball was five years ago. I remember the dress Winter wore. It was purple with silvery sparkles that had moved when we danced together. I also remembered thinking that someday soon she'd be snapped up by one lucky motherfucker, who by the grace of God, had somehow managed to make her fall in love with him. I'd hate the bastard on sight and would do a thorough check on him to make sure he deserved her, which of course, he wouldn't. That year was also the last time Leah and I were together at a formal function before our wedding in early December…just one week later. Funny how the mind chose what to remember and what to forget. Winter looked so radiant in her gorgeous dress, yet I had no earthly idea what Leah—the woman I was about to marry—had worn that night.
Since that time, I'd cared nothing for formal events. Until tonight that was. I'd asked Winter to go with me shortly after my father's summons to his office, because I couldn't stand the thought of her being anyone else's date, regardless of whether we attended as friends or as something more. The territorial feelings toward her had started the second my father opened his big mouth. The change was swift, and it didn't take long for me to make the decision that this year I'd be on the guest list.
Right now, there was a special someone smelling of beautiful woman beside me in the back of a limo. And she was the only reason for my sudden interest in putting on a tux and going to a thing where I'd have dinner and conversation with people I'd probably avoid at all costs the rest of the time.
I told my driver, Enzo, to take the scenic route and raised the partition to give me the privacy I'd been craving since I'd put Winter on that helicopter. Having her with me for those twenty-four hours had only made me want her more than I had before. Prior to that, I hadn't experienced what it was like to kiss her senseless to know what I'd been missing.
Fuck. I had definitely been missing out.
It was said that knowledge was power, but it could also be torture when you knew enough to realize you might break apart if the object of your desires was kept perpetually out of reach. But tonight I was lucky, because my desire was within reach. Dressed in a low-cut black gown that set off her tits in a mouthwatering display had me practically drooling, but I was enjoying the torture. I wanted nothing more than to tear the designer silk away and pleasure her into oblivion right here, right now in this limo.
But I couldn't do that no matter how obsessed I was with making her come again.
She held herself stiffly, giving off a vibe meant to keep me at distance. I wasn't sure why but was in no great hurry to change her mind about it.
Yet.
I could practice patience when needed, and right now I sensed that my lovely obsession wouldn't tolerate being pushed very far. Best to keep things neutral until I had a better read on her mood. And preferably when I had her to myself for hours not minutes. Then, she'd give me her all.
Reading people was something I'd learned from being a lawyer. Knowing if a client was lying or telling the truth came in very handy in deciding if I wanted to represent them or not. Winter was so much more important to me than a potential client, though, and I didn't want to fuck things up any more than I had already. I'd purposefully kept my distance since Thanksgiving, because I'd wanted to give her a solid few days to really think about what she wanted to do…with us. If she wanted to explore the idea of an us at all.
She wants me. She loves me. She wants to be with me. I needed to keep believing, because I had plenty of doubts too.
"Are those the gloves my mother wanted you to have?" The need to touch her nearly overpowered me, so I took her hand firmly into mine. A hand encased in dark pink silk, embellished with flowers made of the same, and covered from the tips of her fingers all the way to well past her elbow. Fucking sexy.
My inner fantasy decided it wanted another date with her wearing those gloves and not a scrap of anything else—except for the shoes. She could keep on the heels that matched the gloves.
Annnnd looked sexy as fuck strapped around her ankles with little bowties at the toes. They'd look even better draped over my shoulders.
"Yes." Her eyes burned green fire at me for an instant before flicking down to study the gloves. "They really are one of a kind: the dark pink color—the silk flowers—the opera length. Your mom gave them to me, saying she would never wear them, and that they were far too beautiful to sit in a box wrapped in tissue." She lifted her eyes back to meet mine. "I would say I have to agree with her."
"Beautiful gloves on beautiful hands." I drew her hand to my lips and kissed the back of it, my lips regrettably touching silk instead of skin. "To go with a beautiful dress…worn by a very beautiful woman."
"What are you doing?" she asked on a soft breath, her eyes moving incrementally as she studied me.
"Just paying you a compliment that you very much deserve. I am a lucky man tonight."
"Anything else you'd like to tell me before we get in there and start pretending, James?"
"Nothing other than how happy I am to be taking you to the ball tonight. No pretending on my part."
She closed her eyes just a fraction and…shivered? It looked like she had.
But I didn't have a chance to ask her, because Enzo pulled up to the security checkpoint and gave our names to the attendant. "James Blakney and Winter Blackstone."
I squeezed her hand and sent her a smile. "It's showtime, sweetheart."