Anyone but Alex (The English Brothers Book 3) (27 page)

Catching
Brooks’ eyes from across the room, he handed the ornament in his hand to his mother and crossed the room to sit beside Jess.

“How’s my girl?”

“She’s sad,” Jessie said softly, grateful that it finally appeared she’d run out of tears.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” said Brooks. “Don’t magical things happen on Christmas Eve?”

“When we were little, Dad would play Santa on Christmas Eve.”

Brook
s chuckled softly. “I remember, but I’m surprised you do, kid.”

“Mom painted his black moustache with white shoe polish. And by the time the older kids took their turns on his lap, it would flake off on their shoulders.”

Brooks nodded at her with wonder. “That’s right. You have some memory.”

“They aren’t my memories. They’re Alex’s.”

Brooks’ expression cooled, and he looked away from Jess, toward the fire. “We didn’t want you to get hurt, Jess.”

“I got hurt anyway.”

“I’m sorry if I had anything to do with that,” said Brooks. “I just want what’s best for you. I always have.”

“I know,” she said, giving him a small, sad smile. “And I love you for it.”

“
And
you love Alex.”

“Yes.”

“I heard he asked you to stay.”

“He did.”

“But you won’t?”

“I can’t.” She looked down at her glass, which she rolled between her palms slowly. “All day today, I’ve thought to myself…
If you really loved Alex, nothing could keep you apart. If you really loved him, you’d stay
.”

Brooks raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.

“But I love more than Alex. I love what Alex and I are when we’re together. And if I stayed, I wouldn’t be protecting that. Because little by little, I wouldn’t be the person he fell in love with anymore. I’d change into someone different. Someone suspicious and unhappy and defensive.” She took a deep breath then exhaled in a rush through her lips. “Does that make sense?”

“It’s not worth the chance?”

“The chance of destroying the love we have for each other?” She shook her head. “Nothing’s worth that, Brooks. Compromising is good. It’s important to bend for someone you love. But, too much compromising means breaking; means I’m not being true to myself or protecting the love I have for him.”

“Okay.”
Brooks sighed, letting the matter drop, and they sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the logs in the fireplace snap and crackle. “It was nice having you here, Jess. I’ll miss you when you go back.”

“You’ve barely seen me this visit,” she said, pursing her lips. “And you when you did, you were mostly mad at me.”

He laughed quietly. “Maybe so… But you managed to make your point. You’re all grown up. I won’t stand in your way again.”

The doorbell rang
, and Jessie’s forehead creased in confusion as she looked at her mother, who placed a final decoration on the Christmas tree before clapping her hands together and smiling at Jess.

“Our guests are here!”

“G-Guests?” she asked, smoothing out the skirt of her dress.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? It must have slipped my mind
and you were locked in your room packing all day. Eleanora was kind enough to have us for Thanksgiving. It seemed only right to have the English and Edwards families join us for Christmas Eve.”

***

Alex stepped through the front door with his family, into the front hallway at Westerly just in time to see Cameron and Christopher coming down the stairs, freshly showered and dressed properly for Christmas Eve dinner. Olivia Winslow greeted them all with hugs and kisses as two maids took their coats, and Brooks and Preston rounded the corner of the large drawing room to the left, standing side-by side and staring at Alex.

As Olivia ushered the Edwards
and Tom and Eleanora English into the drawing room for cocktails, the nine brothers lingered. Chris and Cam crossed the vestibule to stand with Brooks and Preston, across from Barrett, Fitz, Alex, Stratton, and Wes. They were all waiting to see what would happen next, to see if the hatchet was finally buried.

After a moment,
Brooks stepped forward, offering his hand to Alex. Alex took it and Brooks leaned forward, whispering, “If you mess this up, I’ll hunt you down, English.”

Alex stepped back, nodding gravely before shaking hands with Preston too,
then Cam and Chris. The mood lightened, but still there was no sign of Jessica. As the men turned toward the drawing room, Christopher held back, staring at Alex.

“Where is she?”
asked Alex.

“
Pres said she went up the back stairs as soon as she heard you were coming.”

Alex flinched. “She doesn’t want to see me?”

“She loves you. My guess is that she can’t bear to say goodbye again.”

“You and Cam didn’t tell her?”

Christopher shrugged. “We figured that was up to you.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Chris,” said Alex, “for
thinking up the whole plan and calling Barrett last night.”

“She’s my sister. I’m not just going to let her be miserable if I see a solution. Even if the solution includes you.” Chris said this with attitude, but a slight smile softened the words at the end.

Alex nodded, glancing at the stairs, then back at Chris.

Chris’s lips tightened
, and he shook his head back and forth. “I can’t believe I’m about to give Alex English directions to my sister’s bedroom.”

Alex grinned. “I heard he’s turning over a new leaf.”

“He better be,” said Chris. “Or he’s not getting out of this house alive.”

“Where is she?”

“Two flights up. At the top of the stairs, turn left. Hers is the room at the end of the hall.” Chris checked his watch. “I’m guessing you have about half an hour before dinner.”

“You were always my favorite Winslow, Chris,” said Alex, slapping him on the shoulder before taking the stairs two at a time.

***

Alex is here. Alex is downstairs.

Still holding her half-full Champagne flute with trembling fingers, she paced in the dim light of her room, finally stopping in front of the window. Her eyes burned with new tears, and her chest ached so much she could almost feel her heart breaking. She’d spent the last our weeks hiding
with
Alex. Now she was hiding
from
him.

She tried to take a deep breath, but she couldn’t.

What was her mother thinking? She knew how painful this separation from Alex was for Jess. She knew that Jess was hanging on by the skin of her teeth, counting the minutes until she boarded the plane back for London. How was she supposed to sit through cocktails and dinner with the source of her joy, the source of her pain?

Taking a shaking breath, she sat down on the window seat, feeling lost and confused. From the moment she saw Alex walk into Cameron’s apartment building, all she’d wanted was him. No, that wasn’t true. She rewound her life much further to her childhood, to Alex’s lips brushing her forehead as she anticipated another journey to London with just as heavy a heart. What woul
d her nine-year-old self say to her now, she wondered, as she walked away from a chance with Alex just because she couldn’t handle his past?

His past.

“His
past
,” she said aloud, wincing as she really listened to the word. Past. Over. Gone Finished.

And suddenly she realized, the women
he’d been with were just remnants of his past. Wistful for something over. Devotees of something gone. Reaching for something already finished. Someday someone stronger than Jessie would stare them down, hold her head high, and yes, even feel sorry for them as she walked forward, into the future, with Alex, leaving them all behind.

And that someone wouldn’t be Jessie
, because she would have already run away.

Her breath caught
as her words to him so long ago—
our experiences help to shape who we are, but they don’t define us
—came back to haunt her. How had she lost sight of that? She’d allowed a handful (okay, in fairness, a very
large
handful) of bitter, jealous women to define them. Instead of defining her relationship with Alex in terms of a future together, she’d wallowed in his past, allowing his experiences to define it for her. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost sight of what mattered, of what she truly wanted.

For
all of its comforts and familiarity, she knew in her heart that London without Alex would be excruciating. Anywhere she was without Alex would make her homesick, because the only home her heart would acknowledge was with him.

She stood and wiped her eyes, slugging down the rest of her Champagne. She still didn’t love
the idea of relocating. But she took a deep breath and pulled up her big girl panties.

If he’d still have her, it was time for her to reclaim what belonged to her.

With a determined nod, she placed her glass on the vanity and turned toward her bedroom door. Someone knocked just as she reached it, and swinging it open, expecting to see Chris or her mother, the wind was knocked out of her lungs as “what belonged to her” was suddenly standing directly in front her.

***

“Where are you headed?” asked Alex, drinking in the beloved, welcome sight of Jessie after two days and one lonesome night of stark deprivation. Tea rose enveloped him, and he fought to keep his eyes open, and not to reach for her instantly.

“Downstairs,” she whispered in a breathless voice.

“Could we talk up here for a minute?” he asked, sidling into her room and closing the door behind him. He leaned against it, dying to reach for her, but uncertain of their footing. The last thing he wanted to do was anything that would push her away further.

Her breasts heaved against the
dark fabric of her dress with every breath, and her face, so lovely in the moonlight, looked tired. But despite the telltale puffiness around her eyes, he was surprised to see a little spark of spirit in them too. The despair, the sorrowful surrender from two nights ago, wasn’t there anymore.

He was glad, but at the same time, his heart fell. Had she already started moving on from their short love affair? Looking forward to her life in London and leaving him behind?

“Sure,” she said, turning around and walking to the long, plush window seat on the far side of the room that spanned the entire wall and gave her a bird’s eye view of Westerly and Haverford Park beyond.

She sat down, gesturing to the seat with her hand.
Her fingers fluttered. Just a slight tremble, but his heart surged with hope.

“How are you?”
he asked, sitting down beside her.

“I’ve been better,” she answered.
“I was coming downstairs to find you.”

“You were? I thought you came up here to escape me.”

“I needed a minute,” she confessed.

Staring at her profile, his heart swelled and burned with love for her, uncomfortable, fierce, desperate.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Her breath caught
, and her eyes fluttered as she turned to face him. “I love you, too.”

His shoulder
s slumped in relief, and he reached for her waist, drawing her into his arms and kissing her frantically. His lips sealed, possessive and greedy, over hers, his tongue seeking hers. He felt the wild thumping of her heart against his chest as she moaned softly, flattening her hands over his shirt. She was Jess and she was his and he was never letting her go again.

“The last two days were hell,” he murmured, settling his forehead in the curve of her neck and dropping his lips to
her skin where they rested, as though finally home.

“Worse,” she agreed.

“I’m not doing that ever again.”

“Me neither.”

He leaned back, searching her eyes. “No?”

Jessie shook her head,
her trapped hands sliding up his chest to cradle his cheeks. “No.” She swallowed, summoning her courage. “I’ll stay.”

“What?”

“I’ll stay,” she said again, stronger this time. “I’m so sorry I let it get to me.”

“No, Jess,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry I lived my life in such a way that it ended up hurting you.”

“I’m not losing you, Alex. I’m not giving up what we have. You’re more important to me than anything else. I’ll stay in Philadelphia.”

He place
d his hands over hers, lacing his fingers through hers. “I can’t let you do that, baby.”

She whimpered, a sound of pain, launching from the back of her throat. “But you sai
d the last two days were hell. You said you weren’t doing that ever again.”

“I’m
not. I love you, Jess. I’m not letting you go… without me.”

“Without you? To
England?”