London Falling (14 page)

She launched herself into Nate’s arms and pulled me in for a group hug. Nathaniel and I didn’t make a show of hugging but we did the man hug thing around our little sister’s body. It was actually really nice. It would be great having Emma here permanently. The more family around us the better.

“You guys are the best. I’m going to owe you big.”

“Yes, you are. And I expect it in home-cooked meals. You know I can’t cook worth a shite.” I poked her arm and went back to my desk. “Now that we’ve got everything settled. Can we get back to work? I’m bombed and want everything settled before the weekend.”

“Oh yeah, why? You have a hot date with that girl you mentioned?”

Nathaniel’s eyes went round. “That’s right! Dinner on Friday. Oh Em, you must come to dinner. The bird Collier’s hooked on is going to be there. Also, my client Aspen Reynolds and her fiancé, Hank, her assistant Oliver and his boyfriend, Dean. All a great group. Recently I’ve started hanging out with them. I think you’ll really like Aspen and his hottie, London.”

“You’re a wanker, you know that?” I threw a pen at him.

“He’s getting grumpy. He must really like this girl.” Emma added teasingly.

“Both of you, get. Scat! I have work to do and so do you!”

“Alright, alright. Em, you want to help with dinner on Friday?” Nathaniel asked as they headed out the door.

“Sure. What we cooking?”

“Cooking up some love, baby girl. A whole pot of love,” his voice trailed off as they closed the door.

“Arsehole!” I yelled, hoping they could still hear me.

Chapter - 9

“Stop fidgeting with your dress.” My sister’s lilting voice reached me over the sound of the heater blasting warm air against my bare legs from the car’s unit.

“You got ants in your pants?” Aspen’s fiancée Hank asked with his sweet southern accent. God, love a man with an accent.

I glared at both of them and tugged on my skirt one more time then flicked my hair to the side. A nice fat lock twirled perfectly round and round my index finger as I stared out the window.

“Oh no, she’s doing the hair twirl. Why are you nervous? We’re going to dinner at
your
client’s and my attorney’s house. Don’t you do pre-dinners all the time to check the place over?” Aspen tilted her head to the side, her lips curling at the edges. A set of blue eyes and a set of greens focused solely on me.

“Maybe I’m wondering if Collier’s going to be there.” I half-asked in case they knew and would spill the beans. And if he was there, Tripp wouldn’t be there to keep me balanced.

Tripp was finishing up his day shift at the restaurant and mentioned he’d be late to dinner but to let Nate know to leave him a place-setting. I planned on leaving him a setting right next to me. Close enough to allow a distance between me and any potentially sexy Englishmen I’d been avoiding. I just knew
he
was going to be there, too. It’s his brother’s house. He’s having a dinner party. Of course, Collier will be in attendance.

Twinges of excitement and panic warred in equal parts as the limo arrived at the curb. A taxi pulled up directly behind the limo as the three of us shuffled out. Our friends, Oliver and Dean looked dashing in long wool matching coats as they exited their taxi. I held my tongue at the instant jab that wanted to tell them how cute they looked as twinsies. Though one twin was a massive six-foot something firefighter with a body that showed he spent long hours in the gym and the other was very trim and sleek for a male. Oliver’s boyfriend Dean was the dichotomy in that relationship but helped prove you could never judge a book by its cover.

Oliver hugged me tight, and then fawned all over me and my sister’s clothing choices.

“I see you went with the slinky purple number,” Oliver fluttered over the tiny strings cinching the waist of the cocktail dress my sister wore to hide the tiny but growing bump. I held back the urge to stroke her stomach. It was starting to annoy her and she complained that she wasn’t far enough along to warrant a belly rub.

“Buddy, how many times do I have to tell you to keep your hands off my woman?” Hank growled and clapped a hand on Oliver’s shoulder. You could tell Hank was holding back his laughter but trying to hold onto his mock anger. It was an ongoing joke between the trio. Aspen’s best friend fiddled over her constantly and Hank was always thwarting his efforts. Oliver looked over at Aspen, his eyes narrowing, then back at Hank.

“You like the dress a lot I see?” Oliver’s eyes were calculating. His lips twitched into a knowing grin. Aspen fluffed her hair.

“I warned you. I like it down.” Hank said, his tone serious and flat.

Oliver huffed and blew out a frustrated breath. “Seriously? You already scored the woman, impregnated her, yet you still have to go all cowboy caveman?”

Aspen’s hands flew to her mouth, holding back her laughter as Ollie ranted.

“Do you know how long it takes me to make those perfect French twists with her baby fine hair?” He pointed at Aspen’s hair that was around her shoulders in pretty golden waves. Apparently it wasn’t down when Ollie left her earlier. I snickered internally. My prim and proper sister was really a dirty bird who obviously had some wicked sex this evening. Go Aspen!

Hank shrugged, slid a huge paw into the hair at my sister’s nape and tugged her into a wild kiss. She didn’t even try to pull away. He owned her, body and soul. It was clear as day to any onlooker. Hank’s hands tunneled into her hair as he slanted his mouth over hers, gaining deeper access. I could feel the love pouring off those two like a wall of hot air hitting me in the face, burning with intensity. Once Hank pulled away, he nuzzled Aspen’s nose with his and gave her one last peck.

“Down.” He pointed to Oliver and with a firm hand around my sister’s waist, tugged her toward the doorman. She giggled, hot on his heels like a silly teenager with a boyhood crush. I totally got it. Hank was a hunk. Also a running joke in this group.

“Neanderthal,” Ollie shouted after him. We all laughed. Dean gripped Oliver’s hand and crooked his elbow for me. I took his arm and together we all crowed into the elevator.

Hank knocked on the door and we were greeted by a stunning brunette in a gold satin blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt. Her eyes were dark and familiar, blazing with an intensity that spoke of an age well beyond her obvious youth.

“Welcome.” The petite woman smiled sweetly as she held open the door. The gang shuffled in. “Wow, Nate, you have some beautiful friends.” She eyed each of us individually and chuckled.

Nate’s head popped out over a counter and waved. “That I do, sister mine.”

Ah, Nate’s sister. That means she’s related to Collier as well. Bristles of nervous energy shot up my arms leaving gooseflesh in its wake. The lovely woman came right over to me and grabbed my hand. “You must be London. Colly has told me so much about you.”

“Colly?” I grinned, realizing I just was given some excellent blackmail material. “Yes, my brother, Collier.”

“We don’t really know each other that well. And you are?” I held out my hand to her.

“Goodness. I forgot my manners.” She threw a dishtowel over her shoulder after wiping her hands and stuck her hand out. “Emma Taylor. Come on in. Have a drink.”

“Ah, I see the gang is here,” a liquid deep voice came from over my shoulder. I closed my eyes to let the rumble and his nearness fill my senses. A warm hand encased my shoulder and turned me around. Eyes the color of brown sugar glinted and swirled with something akin to desire.

Collier cupped my cheek, his thumb lightly sweeping along the skin before he laid a whisper-soft kiss against first my left, then my right cheek.

“London,” spilled from his lips as if they’d been said in prayer, calm, yet filled with intent. A shiver scuttled down my spine as he pulled away.

Nate made his entrance from the kitchen and introduced Collier to those he hadn’t met, as well as to Emma.

It was just the right amount of time needed to pull myself together. The connection between Collier and me had not dimmed in the two weeks since our evening of pure bliss. If anything, it was stronger, sizzling between us like a live wire, ends exposed ready to burn anything in contact with it.

Nate handed me a glass of white wine and I gulped the first half down greedily, hoping to cool my jets. I made a point to hang out near Aspen, though the second we arrived she and Ollie started talking to Nate about an issue with one of their clients. They needed to have Nate look into it. Bored to tears, I skated around Collier and made my way to where Hank was looking at the artifacts and books lining the living room wall. It reminded me to give the place a once over. I’d be here in a few weeks. Might as well get my pre-run done now.

The room wasn’t bad, I decided as I did a cursory scan. Nate obviously had some definite pleasure pieces, thought his things weren’t placed in a cohesive way. Nothing I couldn’t fix. He’d have to let go of some of the art pieces or place them in other rooms. He mixed textures, colors, and styles that jolted the eye and forced a person to look around the room sporadically. It made me feel dizzy and unbalanced. Not the feeling you wanted a guest entering your space to have.

It was obvious Nate was edging toward a more elegant approach in his home design. Certain pieces were very expensive and definite eye-catchers, things that he noticeably adored but didn’t know how to place. On one of the book shelves stood a solitary piece. It was a telescope from the 18
^th
or 19
^th
century. It wasn’t as archaic as being from the sixteen hundreds when Galileo created the first telescope but it had the curved glass and had likely only modified three times. It was a stunning piece and would look amazing on the mantle with protective hardware and appropriate lighting to give it the attention it deserved.

“That was passed down generations in the Walker bloodline,” Collier said leaning into my back, pressing his sculpted chest against the exposed skin.

“It’s lovely,” I heard myself say, though it was barely a whisper. I was too focused on the feel of his body touching mine, creating that ever present energy that was impossible to ignore.

“Not as lovely as you are.” The tips of his fingers trailed from my neck down my spine, my dress leaving complete access to his bold touch. I gasped. “Hadn’t heard from you in a couple weeks, been busy avoiding me?” There was with a hint of laughter in his tone.

I shrugged and turned toward him. “I have been busy. With my
client.
” The word “client” came out tight and bitter.

His eyebrows rose. “Ah, I see. You’ve been entertaining your
client
, forgetting all about the incredible night we had.” His lips curled into a small frown. “I hoped I’d see you this evening.” His hand came out and lightly rested on my hip pulling me a bit closer to his warmth. Every instinct told me to run far away, get away from this man. If I didn’t, I feared he’d never let me go. My body yearned to be closer, slide up against him, reenact that evening we shared all over again. Wash, rinse, repeat.
Yes please!

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“Because there’s something between us. You feel it. I feel it. I, for one, would like to explore it. Go out with me again?” He crowded my space, leaving only an inch between us. His breath lifted the small hair on my neck to tickle and taunt.

“Not a good idea.”

“And why not?” His hand rose and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“I’m no good for you. Trust me on this.” Finally, I’d admitted the truth. He was not safe getting attached to me. I was incapable of giving him what he needed. In the end, he’d always want more, to settle, to build a life with someone. With me that was not an option. Sex and a good time were all I was willing to give. The sooner he understood that, the better off he’d be.

Collier’s head tipped back and he laughed. I stared at him in confusion, trying to figure out how being brutally honest with him was funny.

“Do you think this is a joke?”

“More like a tragedy. One my beauty, we will survive. Maybe a bit battered and our hearts bruised, but once we let the tender bits heal, it’s going to be so good. I feel it. It’s fate.” He used the one word I never expected a man to say to me again. Fate. Thoughts of my dead husband careened to the surface, muddying the sensation between Collier and I with heartache and grief.

I shook my head and pushed at his chest, forcing him to give me a couple feet of space. “You’re insane. We just met. Had one date. One fan-fucking-tastic night, emphasis on the
fucking
, but that’s all there will ever be. I am not your destiny.” I pointed at him and slipped away as Nate opened the door and my savior walked in. Tripp. God, his timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I needed him like I needed a stiff drink.

“Bridge baby,” he said, arms opening up. I slumped into his embrace calming the jittery hopped up energy that came with conversations with the sexy Englishman. That man confused and confounded me. Everything I knew and understood about myself, about how I wanted to live my life was in a state of juxtaposition when near Collier. I didn’t like it. In fact, I loathed it.

***

It took every ounce of my energy not to pound the bastard with his arm over the back of London’s chair. Tripp. Her supposed best friend. Right now he looked very friendly indeed. If I didn’t know better, I’d be convinced they were lovers, definitely more than friends. Tripp easily touched her in very overt personal ways, as a lover would. What was it she’d said about Tripp? That he was
significant
in her life, that she couldn’t live without him.

My heart ached as I watched him tickle her shoulder, the shoulder I once sunk my teeth into during the height of passion. Her gorgeous body withered under mine, just a scant couple weeks ago. How did we get here? Her stunning eyes met mine across the table. I put everything I felt into my gaze, trying to tell her what words couldn’t.

I missed her.

I wanted her.

I needed her.

London made a move to stand. Tripp stood and pulled out her chair for her. At least he was a gentleman. Wanker.