My closet is destroyed, mounds of outfits covering the floor. I groan, glaring at the piles. How is it possible to own a million pieces of clothing but not have a single solitary thing to wear?
Nerves race down my spine as I look at the clock and realize I have half an hour before I’m supposed to meet James at The Vanilla Bean.
Crap.
I could have had him pick me up here, but the thought of him seeing where I live has my stomach churning. If he sees the mansion, he’ll wonder how I’m living in it, and considering he’s the first person in my life who seems to like me for me—instead of who my father is—I’m hoping to avoid that as long as possible.
Plenty of men have tried to swoon their way into my heart, all of them with an agenda in their smile. Their gazes were sweet, but it was only a matter of time before their eyes lit up for my father in a way they never did for me. Not that I fell for them in the first place. I learned at a young age—six, to be exact—that people were more interested in how I could serve their well-being instead of them caring about mine. Even children understand the sting of loneliness, and when my mother died, everyone I had grown to depend on slipped away. As if I were the problem. As if my grief was too much of a burden for them to bear.
And maybe that’s why I feel such a pull to James. Because for the first time in my life there’s someone who wants me for me, not all the other bullshit that comes along with it.
Sighing, I settle on a black dress, tight enough to show off my curves but simple enough where it doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard, and I finish getting ready before heading down the stairs.
Jon is sitting in the family room, a hundred pieces of a model airplane deconstructed and taking up the entire coffee table. I plop down in the chair across from him.
He glances up, eyes widening as he takes me in. “You look nice. Big date?”
I smile, my chest warming at his compliment. “Thanks, yeah, actually… I do have a date.”
“Cool.” He smiles. “I’m gonna get a head start on the homeschooling stuff.”
His words smack my insides, making my chest heavy with indecision. I haven’t told him about the boarding school. It doesn’t feel right to know and not tell him, but Dad said he would come home. He should be the one to see the look on Jon’s face when he realizes he’s being sent away.
I glance around, noting the finished model airplanes set up in various spots. It’s something Jon’s always been into, but since we moved, he could fill up the whole house with them. “How you doing with everything?” I ask.
He tilts his head, eyes narrowed on the pieces he’s gluing together. “Vague question, Wendy.”
“I mean… everything. Like, the move and stuff? You okay?”
He shrugs. “I’m fine. Prefer it this way, actually. If I could stay here in this house forever and never leave again, it would be too soon.”
Guilt weaves its way through me, wrapping tightly until it bursts. Maybe there’s still time to talk Dad out of this stupid boarding school idea. But then again, how healthy can it really be for a kid his age to stay holed up in a house all day with only his big sister for company?
He rubs his nose. “Seriously, Wendy. I’m fine. You worry too much.”
I grin. “Someone’s got to.”
“Go enjoy your date.” He waves me off.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, my fingers twisting in my lap. “Maybe I could cancel and we could hang out instead?”
Jon’s gaze finally leaves his airplane, his eyes wide as he stares at me.
I huff out a breath. “Fine, you don’t have to look so mortified by the thought.”
He smiles at that, the dimples in his cheeks making my heart ache from how identical they are to our mother’s.
“Alright then. I’ll see you later, I guess.” I stand up to leave.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
My eyes narrow. “You don’t do anything.”
He chuckles. “Exactly.”
For half a second, I think about canceling with James anyway. He’s intimidating—all-consuming in the type of way that makes your insides quake and your mind go muddy. But even as the thought crosses my mind, I toss it to the side, knowing I won’t.
James’s attention is an ember, flickering through my middle and lighting up everything in its path. And in the darkest parts of my mind, I hope that if my dad hears I’m gallivanting around with a man like James—one who’s a little bit older and a lot of bit powerful—if he’ll finally come home.
My anxiety rises like a storm surge on the way to the coffee shop. I walk toward the front door, my clammy hands skimming down the front of my dress, breathing deep to calm my nerves.
What was I thinking saying yes to this?
I got here a little early specifically, so I’d have some time, but when I walk inside he’s already here, chatting with Angie like they’re old friends, his suit cut perfectly to his frame. Idly, I wonder what he’d look like in jeans or an old, stained shirt. It seems like he’s never anything less than perfectly put together.
My gaze flicks around the shop. It’s busy tonight, and James hasn’t noticed that I’m here yet. My heart slams against my ribs. Walking toward him feels like diving in the deep end without knowing how to swim, but it doesn’t make my steps falter. If anything, I pick up the pace, an odd sense of excitement making me want to find out how far down the water goes.
Angie sees me first, her eyes sparkling as she takes me in. “Hey, girl, look who’s here. Tall, dark, and handsome showed up early.”
James turns toward me and, like a power surge, my body sparks, the electricity from his stare making my hair stand on end.
“Hi.” I smile.
He straightens and moves toward me, close enough to dust a kiss across my cheek. I suck in a breath, the heat of his body sending a shiver down my side. His fingertips trail down my arm as he backs up, and his stare is heavy, stripping me naked with a simple look. A heady sensation grows deep in my belly and settles between my legs.
“Beautiful,” he says.
It’s one word, but it caresses me like velvet, my insides purring at his approval.
“You too.”
He smirks. “You think I’m beautiful?”
His tone is playful, and it ignites that same foreign fire from the first night we met, when I wondered what it would feel like to be a different type of Wendy.
My eyebrow quirks. “What, you think a man can’t have beauty?”
“A man can have many things, darling.” He steps in closer. “But the only beauty I hope to have tonight is yours.”
My stomach flips, butterflies bursting like a cannon. “Your mouth should be illegal,” I mutter. “So… where are you taking me?”
Angie laughs. “Who cares where he’s taking you, girl? Just go.” She makes a shooing motion with her hands.
James glances her way before resting his palm on my lower back. “She’s right, you know. You should relax, let me wine and dine you properly.” He leans in, his lips skimming the top of my ear. “And if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll show you the real reason why my mouth should be illegal.”
Heat floods my body, swirling through my insides and pulsing between my legs. I huff out a surprised breath, my fingers pushing against his chest. “That’s extremely presumptuous.”
His eyes sparkle, his hand never leaving my back as he moves me toward the door. “Just letting you know what’s on the menu.”
He leads me outside to a blacked-out Audi. My hand reaches to grasp the handle, but before I can, he’s there, opening the door and helping me in.
My heart skips. Such a simple gesture, but one that makes me feel special. Taken care of.
“I feel like I should be offended,” I say as he slides into the driver’s seat.
He grins, starting the car but leaving it idle as he twists to look at me. “Why?”
“You just told me to be a good girl, and you’d… you know.”
His brow rises. “I’m not sure I do.”
He moves quickly, leaning over the console, his body crowding me until I press back against the seat. He skims his nose up my neck, and my stomach cramps so tight I lose my breath.
“Because I want to put my mouth on you?” His lips dance from my ear down my jaw until they’re hovering above mine.
My heart slams against my chest. I am so out of my element.
“I promise you’d like it,” he whispers.
And just like that, his body heat disappears as he moves to his side of the car and reverses out of the lot.
