They were still sitting there hours later. Gabe leaned back in his chair and stretched. “I’m starving. You two want to grab some lunch from that new Italian place?”
“Has the paint even dried at this one yet?” Cassie asked with a shake of her head. “You’ve really missed your calling as a mob-movie-obsessed food critic.”
“You ladies know I’m a slut for innovative cuisine.”
“Dirty fucking slut.”
Lilly winced, suddenly nauseous. She took a shaky breath and stared at the floor.
Cassie moved in front of her, making a show of reaching for her purse. “Why don’t you go ahead and get a table, Gabe. We just need to freshen up. Meet you there in a bit.” When he’d left the room, she bent down next to Lilly’s chair. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” There were a lot of things Cassie knew about her past. The word that had been used to demean and humiliate her wasn’t one of them.
Cassie didn’t budge. “Damien hasn’t tried to find you again, has he?”
Lilly’s stomach lurched, the same way it did last November when Damien’s name appeared in her personal inbox for the first time in months. Staring at the message as if it were something poisonous, she’d deleted it without reading, then immediately ditched her account and opened a new one. She made sure he was blocked on Facebook, checking her privacy settings for the umpteenth time. And even though she’d changed her phone number once already, she did it again. Cassie was the one who found her in the office bathroom afterward, splashing water over her tearstained cheeks.
The simple question of “Who was he?” had opened the floodgates.
She’d given Cassie the highlights, needing to confess it to someone. Cassie hadn’t known the lofty expectations Lilly had grown up with, and hoped her new friend wouldn’t judge her too hard for her failure.
She hadn’t said a word, only dried Lilly’s tears and told her she understood. Now Cassie was the single person who knew why Lilly hadn’t taken the bar, and exactly what she and Damien Brooks were to one another.
“No,” Lilly admitted quietly. “Not since the email on my birthday.”
“Okay. Just checking.” Cassie stood and nodded toward the door. “You want to eat? Italian does sound good.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’ll grab you something and stash it in the fridge?”
Lilly nodded and forced a smile until Cassie reluctantly left the room. Then she took a deep breath and went back to work.
Chapter Four
Jack had just gotten home Thursday afternoon when his phone rang. He answered, not bothering with a greeting.
“Not planning on chickening out, are you?” Patrick asked.
He’d hoped Patrick would forget about his nefarious Friday night plans for him.
It didn’t look like that was working out.
“I guess not. What the hell am I supposed to wear, anyway?”
“It’s not the senior prom, Jack. Just find some clothes and put them on.”
“Thanks, asshole.”
“No problem. See you tomorrow.”
Jack pocketed his phone and sighed. The liquor cabinet beckoned, seductive with its ability to drown out the past. Staying away from it was nearly impossible, but he had work in the morning, and didn’t have the luxury of showing up to his own classes hung-over.
Forcing himself in the other direction, Jack walked down the hall and was drawn toward another vice—a door that had been closed for a long time. The one leading down to his basement, and the playroom.
Jack laid a hand on it. Converting their basement into an apartment and renting it out was what got them through the years when he was in law school, living off Eve’s teacher salary with an infant to feed. They stopped needing the extra income by the time Josh was a teenager, and once he’d left for college Jack and Eve meandered down there, needing a different space than their bedroom to fall into their newly found roles.
They only played on weekends, leaving behind the titles of husband and wife to become “Master” and “love”. She showed him what true submission was, allowing him to let loose his most perverse desires. When her stubborn streak came through in occasionally defiant responses, he’d discipline her by tying her up and whispering everything she liked in graphic detail until she was ravenous for him. She was able to read him so clearly, perfectly anticipating his needs, and she never needed to safeword because Jack knew her so well. He had to; he was her protector, after all.
But he couldn’t protect her from cancer. Or death.
She’d been willing to play after the disease hit, when the radiation made her honey locks wither down the shower drain. Apart from the gentle, easy sound of her laugh, Eve’s hair was Jack’s favorite thing about her. He’d barely been able to keep it together when the last of it fell out, or when a gentle spanking left welts on her skin that wouldn’t heal. And even then, she’d been the one to lament her failing body’s reaction.
She amazed him every single day. How was he supposed to fulfill her dying wish when the only thing he wanted was to have her by his side again?
He turned around and pulled out his phone. Patrick was only trying to help, but he couldn’t do this. He’d just started to dial when his doorbell rang. Jack glanced down the hallway. His niece Allegra was waving at him through the glass window by the front door.
“Hi, Uncle Jack!” she said when he opened it. “We’re here with your dinners.”
Out on the driveway, Samantha was pulling several tinfoil containers from the back of their Jeep. His weekly meal drop-off was often accompanied by impromptu visits from his brother’s clan.
“That’s great. How’s the fourth grade going?”
“Good. My spelling bee is tomorrow.” She clasped her hands together, bringing them beneath her chin. “Say you’ll come, please?”
Relief flooded through Jack, happy to trade a night at a bar for one filled with family.
“Of course Uncle Jack will come,” Brady said before Jack could answer, walking toward them with his other daughter, Hope, in his arms. She was six, but Brady could have lifted both his children in the same arm with ease. “That way he can’t say no to going out with me afterward.”
Jack’s shoulders slumped. “Patrick called you.”
“Hell yeah, he did.”
Allegra gasped. “Daddy, you said hell.”
“Shh,” he said as he let Hope down and glanced over his shoulder, no doubt to make sure Samantha hadn’t caught another one of his frequent slips of bad language in front of the children. “Go inside and wash up.”
The girls stomped snow off their shoes before running down the hall.
“So you’re in, yes?” he asked Jack. “Barrel ’n’ Flask, home of babes, beer and basketball. I can’t wait to watch Patrick work that scene” Brady’s dimples showed with his wistful smile. “The eternal bachelor. He’s got the life, man.”
Jack shook his head. Thirty-five years old with a steady job and family who loved him, and Brady had no idea how good he had it.
“The grass is always greener, little brother.”
They filed inside, and Allegra asked everyone to test her spelling while they ate. When the meal was finished, the girls colored in the kitchen as Samantha started on the dishes.
Brady scraped his fork against the remnants of pie on his plate. “Heard from Josh lately?”
“Not since Christmas. School is keeping him busy.”
“Your side sure did get the brains of the family.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. After all, you’re the one Dad sent to Harvard and recruited to his firm, not me.”
“And I’m the one who left the corporate life to teach, while you became the boss of a huge IT company.”
“True. So why is it that with all my technical know-how, I can’t get
you to use Facebook once in a while? Your last status update was in August.”
As if Jack cared about that. “I’ll work on it.”
“You’re a shitty liar.”
Sam yelled something from the kitchen about him watching his mouth. Brady snickered silently and carved out a second piece of pie, his appetite as endless as it had been when he was spending all his time being a quarterback instead of staring at lines of code.
Jack watched him swallow a mouthful the size of his fist. “I don’t know how you can take bites that big without choking.”
“Practice. So, pick you up at five tomorrow? I’ll be designated.”
It was an artful suggestion, offering to drive so Jack could drink. It also meant he wouldn’t be able to duck out early when Patrick started lining up the women like planes on their final approach into Logan.
“There’s no getting out of this, is there?”
“It’s no big deal, Jack. It’ll just be us, Nick, Gabe, his sister and one of his co-workers.”
“A night out with my philandering best friend, my little brother and friends,” Jack grumbled. “Can’t wait.”
A day later, Jack found himself entering a noisy pub on the outskirts of Fenway. He steeled himself as they stepped inside. Baseball season was months away but the pub was packed anyway, the games on the flat screens loud and the conversations even louder, ricocheting off the brick walls and cherry wood tables. They found Patrick at the bar, clearly several drinks in.
“I thought you were my wingman tonight,” Jack said. Not that he was complaining. He’d get through this quicker if his friend was too drunk to make good on his promise.
Patrick raised his glass. “Flying toasted makes it more of a challenge.”
“Hold up, did someone say wingman?” Brady asked. “I thought we were just getting some beers. What am I missing?”
“We are going to get your brother a date tonight.”
“For real?” Brady looked to Jack, then responded with a hesitant, “O-kay.”
Jack ordered a draft and knocked back a heavy gulp as two women squeezed next to them. Patrick offered to buy them a round of shots, but they seemed to only have eyes for Brady. When he apologized with a flash of his wedding ring, they pouted and turned away. Patrick began working his magic on another pair, and Jack tried to participate in the conversation, but the words I don’t want to be here were beating a chorus in his head.
They moved on and Patrick glowered at him. “You want to put in a little effort?”
“Sorry.”
“Bullshit. You’re not even trying.”
“Ease up, Patrick,” Brady said. “He’s here at least, right?”
“Barely.”
Jack pushed back from the bar. “I need some air.”
He walked away with the intention of merely stepping outside, but the entryway was so thick with people he could barely muscle his way through the crowd.
Screw this. He didn’t want to be here. And he was going the fuck back home.
Jack started to reach for his phone, planning to text Patrick and Brady that he was getting a cab when something a few feet away stopped him—a shock of blonde hair, long and curling at the ends. His breath caught. For a moment he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real. She looked so much like Eve once did it was eerie. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop, not even when the young woman’s gaze shifted and met his. She blinked rapidly before looking away. Her stare slowly crept back, though, and when their eyes met again, her cheeks colored with a rosy flush.
Fuck.
A spark kindled in Jack’s belly, his body awakening with needs he thought all but dead. The hint of a fantasy ignited, his mind tripping over itself like a cold engine starting after a long winter. Dormant for so long under a cloak of grief, his sex drive roared to life. The attraction was intense and unexpected.
She broke the connection when a brunette linked arms with her and led her through the crowd. Forcing himself not to look to where she’d gone, Jack returned to the bar.
“You get your air?” Patrick asked.
“Yeah,” Jack lied.
Brady slapped a twenty on the bar. “Great. Next round is on me.”
From behind them, someone said, “You always were ready to foot the bill for a keg.”
Jack turned around as Brady’s friend Nick pulled him in for a one-armed hug. Brady slapped him on the back and motioned to Patrick.
“Patrick, this is Nick Sterling, my buddy from college. He’s a hotshot photographer now. Nick, meet Patrick Dunham. He works in publishing and has slept with half the women in Boston.” Patrick saluted at the joke before Brady put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “And of course, you remember my brother, Jack.”
They’d met once long ago when the boys were in college. He vaguely recalled seeing Nick at Eve’s funeral. Jack braced himself, waiting for the inevitable questions about how he’d been doing, but all Brady’s friend did was smile.
“Of course, it’s good to see you. Gabe went to find a table. You want to join us?”
“Oh thanks, but—”
Patrick picked up his glass and stood. “We’d love to. There’s a redhead by the dartboard who needs some attention.”
Jack sighed and followed behind them, twin flags of dread and desire planting themselves in his stomach when he located the blonde again. She’d taken off her coat, revealing a skirt and sweater that clung to her body in all the right places, her legs endlessly long.
He ground his jaw. Jesus fucking Christ.
“So, Jack, how are classes going?”
Nick’s question shook Jack out of his stupor. He cleared his throat, trying to get the blood to rush back to his brain and not about three feet south of there.
“They’re all right so far,” he said, his eyes still on the blonde and the table she was sitting at. The table they were, without a doubt, walking toward.
Nick stopped just shy of her chair and smiled. “Let me introduce you around: my husband Gabriel Hartley, and his associate Cassandra Allbright.”
They waved. Jack gave an abrupt nod back.
“And this—” Nick tugged on a lock of the blonde’s hair. Jack’s heart started to pound as she turned and looked up. “—is my little sister, Lilly.”
Chapter Five
Jack’s eyes locked with Lilly’s. Her golden hair and creamy skin were the same as Eve’s, but that was where their similarities ended. Her eyes were hazel, more green than brown, and dark around the irises. Her face was full and heart-shaped, her cheeks dusted with freckles. With her arms wrapped around her middle, she seemed nervous and guarded—not at all like the confident woman his wife was.
And she looked young. Very young.
God, the first woman he’d found attractive, and she was his brother’s best friend’s little sister.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he managed to say.
She offered him a small smile. “Likewise.”
“Lilly Sterling, in the flesh,” Brady called out, barreling past Jack. “I thought Nick was lying about you moving here, since we never see you.”
She laughed, a short, tight sound. “I’ve been busy working.”
Nick turned to Jack, beaming proudly. “She’s a paralegal, a graduate of Northwestern School of Law. And a bit of a workaholic.”
She made a face. “Takes one to know one. At least I see the light of day once in a while.”
“Darkrooms are supposed to be dark.” Nick tugged on Lilly’s hair again, and she playfully shoved him off.
Brady jerked a thumb at Jack. “My brother’s a workaholic too. He’s a big shot Harvard Law professor.”
“Harvard,” Lilly said. “Wow.”
Jack caught something in her gaze, something like admiration, or even attraction. Maybe she wasn’t as young as he thought. She’d graduated
law school, which meant she was at least old enough to be in her mid-twenties.
The relief he felt over that needed to vanish. Now.
He turned to look for Patrick, finding him with that redhead in his lap. Resigned to being here for a while, Jack pulled out a chair and kept his eyes locked on the television. The Celtics’ point guard missed a shot, and the crowd around them exploded into jeers. Then, across from him, Gabe said, “Three, two, one…”
Nick groaned and buried his face in his hands.
“You drunk already?” Brady asked.
“No. It’s this gallery opening,” Gabe answered for him. “He’s worried it’s going to be a bust.” He put his arm around Nick. “You’ve got to stop this. Your stuff is great.”
Lilly nudged her brother and smiled. “He’s right. I don’t know why you can’t see what we all see in you.”
Nick lifted his head and bumped his shoulder against hers. “I could say the same about you.”
Her grin faded and she looked down at her lap. Her sudden unease was so apparent Jack was surprised no one else at the table noticed it.
Drink your beer. Watch the game. Stop staring at her.
“I appreciate your votes of confidence. I expect you all to buy my most expensive pieces,” Nick said, then nodded as Gabe pointed to someone on the other side of the room. “There’s a rep over there I need to mingle with. Be right back.”
After Nick stood and stepped away, Brady hopped into his empty seat. “So, Lilly. You enjoying Boston so far?”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I haven’t seen much of the city. Work takes up most of my time.”
“Have you always wanted to be a lawyer?”
“Since you guys were in college. Since…” She waved a hand toward where her brother had gone.
“Since our dipshit teammates tried to beat the crap out of Nick?” he asked. Lilly nodded, and some of Brady’s usual teasing manner melted away. His jaw went rigid. “I still kick myself for not pushing him to press charges.”
Jack remembered what had happened to Nick years ago. He’d always been proud of what Brady did. It was the first time Jack had seen him as a man instead of his kid brother.
His Contract: Legally Bound, Book 1 Page 3