Anyone but Alex (The English Brothers Book 3) (26 page)

“Tea?” he asked, a mug suddenly appearing under his chin.

“Okay,” she sniffed.

Five years older than Jessie, Chris was her closest sibling, both in age and in intimacy. Unlike Brooks and Preston, who were already in college when Jessie moved to London, Cam and Chris had lived there with her and her mother for several years. After Cameron left London to attend college in the States, Jessie and Chris were the only Winslow siblings left in residence at Harrell House.

Chris was tall and broad, his thick black hair falling in a roguish wave over his forehead and his moss green eyes bright and vibrant. He moved gracefully across her room, holding the mug carefully so it wouldn’t slosh onto the powder pink carpet. H
e held it out to her, and she took it gratefully as he sat down beside her, kicking off his shoes and leaning back against the windows.

His face was severe. “What did he do to you, Jess?”

“He fell in love with me,” said Jessie, bringing the mug to her lips and sipping tentatively. “And I promised him I could handle his past. I promised I could handle the women, but…” Her voice broke as she thought of his face last night when he said,
I think we’re breaking up.
Her heart clutched and she tried to swallow past the lump in her throat.

“You couldn’t.”

She shook her head.

“Well, good that you found out now,” said Chris crisply, pulling a piece off lint off his sweater.

“
Good
?
Good
? My heart is literally breaking, Christopher. Good? There isn’t anything
good
about this.”

“Oh, yeah?” asked Chris, leveling his eyes at her. “Because you’re here
crying, talking to me, not at his place trying to figure it out.”

“It can’t
be
figured out.”

“Everything can be figured out,” said Chris simply.

“Why do you even care?” she demanded, setting the mug on the window sill and flashing her angry eyes at him. “You four did everything possible to break us up. Why aren’t you dancing a jig? Why aren’t you whistling a happy tune? You can all go back to pretending your sister is some virginal sixteen-year-old!”

“I didn’t want you to break up.”

“You did! You—”

“Nope. The day after the squash match? You didn’t get another text or call from me. Check. I’m telling the truth.”

She stared back at him, thinking hard. It was
possible
that he was telling the truth.

“See, I didn’t like it that you were with Alex. But
then he told us that he loved you. Cam was pissed. He couldn’t hear anything Alex was saying. But I could. And I could tell he was speaking from the heart. He was telling the truth. Whatever Alex did before he met you…well, his was a different man that afternoon. I stopped worrying about you. I stopped caring what other people thought. If Alex genuinely loved you and you genuinely loved him, it was enough for me.”

Jessica drew her hands back and pushed them, as hard as possible, into her brother’s chest, so that he fell back, sputtering.

“
What the hell, Jess
?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?
Why didn’t you do anything?”

“I did! Didn’t you notice? Brooks,
Pres, and Cam quit bothering you. We all agreed to stay out of it and let you live your own life.”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes welled up again. “But, I thought…I thought you had all given up on me. I thought you were turning your backs on me
and freezing me out.”

Chris shook his head. “No.
You’re our sister, we love you. As for Alex? We’re still doing the Harrison-Lowry deal with English & Sons. Hey, I’m not going to lie… we all wish it had been anyone but Alex, but like I said, as long as he loves you and treats you right, it’s none of our business.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Just want you to be happy, Jessie. Which is why I’m sitting here… because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look quite this miserable.”

“I can’t
move to Philly,” she sobbed. “I can’t live here.”

“The women?”

Jessie nodded. “They’re everywhere. They look at me and snicker behind my back and talk about me in whispers, waiting to see when Alex will get tired of me and move on. I can tell the ones he’s been with and it…”

Chris held up a hand. “Okay. I get it.”

“I miss home,” she said softly. “I miss my life there. I just wish I could add Alex to my life
there.”

“He won’t go to London?”

“I think he’d leave his family for me, as much as he loves them. But, not English & Sons. His career, the responsibility placed in him…I don’t know how he could let down his family by leaving that behind. It would destroy something in him. He loves it. It’s important to him.”

“There are other jobs,” said Chris thoughtfully.

“No,” said Jess. “Not like his. Not like a company that has his name on it. Could you leave C&C Winslow? Just like that?”

Chris shook his head. “It would be tough.”

Jessie picked up her mug again and took another sip.

“So, that’s it?” he asked. “
You’re just going to let him go?”

“
You have no idea how hard this is. I’m fighting myself every minute not to go to him.”

“He’s that important to you?”

“I love him,” she answered simply.

Chris bit his bottom lip
in thought. “Then don’t give up yet.”

Jessie cocked her head to the side. She knew this look. Chris had an idea, a thought that he wasn’t ready to share, but something that he was working out in his head. “
Wh-What?”

Chris reached for her hand.
“Don’t give up on Alex yet, okay?”

She sniffled again, chuckling softly through tears.
“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Me neither.” Chris stood, that
thoughtful expression still playing across his face. He gave Jessie a quick smile before leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Quit being so miserable. Don’t forget you have four older brothers who would do almost anything to secure your happiness, Jess. It’s been a long time since we all lived together, but that’s never going to change. Don’t ever, ever forget it.”

She watched him walk purposefully to her door
and leaned her head back on the wall of the window seat, letting her eyes flutter closed. When she woke up several hours later, it was pitch dark outside, the only light coming from her phone, which had woken her up buzzing beside her, the glow brightening up the dim nook where she’d fallen asleep.

I miss you. Are you okay? –
A

Her breath caught and she bit her lip,
tears welling as she stared at the words. She rubbed her eyes, still half-asleep, and answered honestly.

This hurts so much. –J

—

I love you. –A

Jessie grinned through her tears, the words beating a path to her aching heart.

Don’t give up on us, yet. –A

—

I love you too, but
I’m leaving in three days. –J

—

I know. Just don’t give up on us yet. Okay? –A

She flipped the phone over for a second and darkness returned, thick and bleak.
She hadn’t given up on them, but she still didn’t see a light to guide their way. Her phone buzzed and she turned it over again.

Do you trust me?

She took a deep, ragged breath, staring at the blue letters against the bright white screen. Did she trust Alex? She searched her heart and one searing memory cut through all of the others. It felt like yesterday that she had looked up at twelve-year-old Alex’s bright blue eyes as he chucked her under the chin and handed her an extra flashlight, announcing to the crowd of older kids who’d told her to get lost, “
She’s on
my
team
.” His voice had dared any of them to contradict him, but no one had. Then, as now, despite the time, despite the distance, despite everything that had happened between them, Jessie was still on Alex’s team.

Always.

His reply was instantaneous.

Then
I’ll see you tomorrow
.

She felt a little deflated and her body, which hadn’t spent a night away from Alex for over three weeks, felt deprived and frustrated as she drew her knees to her chest.
Like he could read her mind all the way from Rittenhouse Square, his next message arrived with uncanny precision.

Don’t get used to sleeping without me, Jess.

She gasped and the first and only smile of the day burst across her face as she touched her fingers to the words, thinking that it would take something much stronger than a day apart to ever stop wanting Alex English beside her in bed.

Christmas Eve dawned gray and rainy, a fine compliment to Alex’s mood after sleeping alone for the first time in weeks. But he consoled himself that if everything went according to plan today, he’d have Jessica back in his life by tonight and he never intended to spend another night away from her, ever again.

Barrett h
ad stayed for hours last night, listening to Alex talk about his life, the many women he’d sampled and enjoyed, the way he’d felt when Barrett and Fitz got engaged and how Jessie had come along at the perfect moment and filled the void in his life. He talked about Jessie as a child, wide-eyed and trusting, and as an adult, sweet, yet determined, trusting and bold, the missing piece of his life, the most fun he’d ever had. He told Barrett how easy it was to fall in love with her, how helpless he was to stop it, how much he needed Jessie in his life now that he could compare his life before her to his life after. He raged against the partnership that bound him to English & Sons, even as he contradicted himself by admitting how much the company meant to him.

And all the while, Barrett listened and offered advice, even going so far as to say that
English & Sons would hire a new CFO if Alex needed to follow Jessie to London, as long as he stayed on long enough for a smooth transition. But Alex winced at the idea. From the cradle, Barrett, Fitz, Alex, Stratton, and Weston had been grown and groomed to take over their father’s company. The idea of walking away from it sat like lead in Alex’s belly, almost as heavy as the idea of letting Jessie go.

It wasn’t until
nine o’clock, when Barrett’s phone rang, that they’d taken a break from their conversation. His face didn’t soften as it did when Emily called, it was stern and fixed, thoughtful and silent, processing whatever information was being relayed. At one point, Barrett turned around and fixed his glance on Alex, narrowing his eyes and nodding.

After listening for a long time, he finally nodded, rubbing his jaw.
“I see the benefits. It’s an interesting idea, I agree. Tomorrow. At noon.”

As
Barrett pocketed his phone and turned to Alex, he finally took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie.

“
I hope you have no where you need to be tonight. Call Stratton and tell him to get over here. We have some work to do.”

Five hours later, Barrett
left for Emily’s warm bed, and Alex headed to his own cold, lonesome room, albeit with a lighter heart than earlier in the evening. He sat on the edge of the bed where he’d  made love to Jess more times than he could count, and texted how much he missed her.

As morning light filtered through the window,
Alex took a deep breath, burying his face in her pillow, his heart swelling when the smell of tea roses greeted him.

Though
English & Sons was closed for business on Christmas Eve, Alex had an important meeting in the conference room at noon. But before that meeting he had a couple of other very important errands to run. Whipping the sheet off his naked body, he stalked to the shower, promising himself that no matter what happened by the end of today, he would live with the consequences. Oh, but what hope surged through him, as he promised every power of the universe that if he got her back, he’d spend the rest of his life making sure he was worthy of her.

***

Jessica sat in front of the fireplace in a forest green cocktail dress, sipping a glass of Champagne, as her mother, Brooks and Preston decorated the Christmas tree in the living room of Westerly. Every Christmas since she was ten years old had been spent at Harrell House in London, and Jessie felt out of step at Westerly this year. Or maybe it was just that she felt out of step without Alex, whose absence was a constant heaviness on her heart.

Since her exchanged texts with
him last night, she hadn’t heard from him again. Christopher and Cameron had gone into the office for most of the afternoon—a decision which had sent their mother into a fit—and returned about an hour ago, rushing upstairs to get ready for Christmas Eve dinner.

Tomorrow was Christmas and the day after, Jessie would fly back to London. She’d spent most of today crying as she packed up her belongings, whatever hopes Alex had raised with his messages last night dying slowly over the course of
another day without him. Did she trust him? Yes. But, had he given her a reason—any reason—to hold on? Sadly, no.