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As we walked toward the elevators, I diverted my mini-disaster and asked her about school and her volunteering job at the South Boston Youth Center—anything to take the focus off me, and why I was coming in at this late hour. She unhappily shared the story of a young brother and sister who were in a dismal situation with a mom who most likely prostituted herself to keep them fed. I could tell it broke her heart to have to send the kids home in the evenings when the center closed for the day. Winter was such a good person in her heart, and she would help a lot of people in her lifetime. I knew this without a shadow of a doubt.
"It was nice of you to carry my backpack and walk me to my door." She turned to face me as we got to her apartment and held her hand out for her backpack. I reluctantly gave it to her, wishing our short time together wasn't over so soon.
"My pleasure, Win. I like knowing you're right here beneath me all safe and sound."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was trying to figure out my comment and what I was insinuating. Oh, I'd intended the double meaning all right. I was a dickhead for teasing her all the time. I said shit I shouldn't say to her. But still, I kept doing it. The kid in the third grade who relentlessly tormented the little girl he secretly had a crush on? That kid was me right now.
"Goodnight, James." She hurried to unlock her door, probably to get away from me.
"Night, Win. Get some rest."
"You too," she said with a sexy half laugh and gentle shake of her head—right before she shut the door in my face.
Yeah, Winter was one of a kind. A diamond amongst the rocks. She was fucking gorgeous with a heart I wished could be mine. But Winter Blackstone deserved someone much better than me. And always would.
As I headed for the stairwell, I knew something else, too.
All I can see is a very beautiful, lovely girl named Winter, and I think she should marry me.
Nothing in my comment had been a joke. I'd meant every word…even if it would always remain a fantasy.
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.
