London Falling (The Falling Series)

by Audrey Carlan

  “Bridge baby, it was just a dream. Collier is--” He gritted his teeth and pulled me back to look into my eyes. He swiped away the tears that wouldn’t stop and took a deep breath. “Collier is not James. He’s very much alive.” I had a feeling he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t.

  “It was so real, it was my wedding day and James was waking me up like he did that day. I actually remembered how I felt when he woke me. Like everything in the world was just right…until it wasn’t anymore.” I sniffed and wiped my dripping nose with the back of my arm. Tripp grimaced and pulled a tissue out of the box on the end table and handed it to me. “Thanks.” I blew my nose and took a deep breath, trying to expel the images scratching to the surface. “It was…God, Tripp. It was so real.”

  Tripp pulled me into the warmth of his embrace, cradling my head. “So, Bond has gotten to you then? He’s under your skin.” He didn’t say what I knew he was trying to say and I was thankful. I was nowhere near ready to think things were any different with Collier than they were with any other man. If I wanted to be with Collier, I couldn’t be with other men. Knowing what I knew of Collier and his third degree last night, he would not share.

  No, I’d see this through until we’d worked each other out of our systems. It was bound to happen. This thing with Collier was unique in the sense that I wanted to see more of him and often, but it wouldn’t last. It never did. Eventually I’d tire of him.

  But why the dream? The only man I’d ever dreamt about was James. In four years, I have only ever dreamed of James. and now I’ve had a fantasy and a nightmare about Collier.

  “So you’re dating Bond officially?” Tripp stood up to pull my robe off the door hanger. I wasn’t naked but goose bumps were still prevalent on my arms and legs, giving physical proof of how frightened I’d been.

  I nodded and slipped on the robe he handed me, not really sure what to say as I pulled my knees into my chest. This was new for me. Dating. I hadn’t officially dated anyone since my husband died. If you’d ask me three weeks ago, prior to meeting my sexy Englishman, I’d say I was the queen of hookups. Even those had only been in the past couple of years.

  It was the perfect answer to my ongoing problem. Burying my secrets in another man’s flesh was easy when you didn’t plan to keep them around. It also took away the constant thoughts of James. I could fuck my way into sweet oblivion and find a small respite from the grief, the pain, the wide open hole where my soul once lived; the soul that died right along with the only man I’ll ever truly love.

  Tripp dropped on the bed and spread his arms wide. I snuggled right into the crook of his arm, my head resting on his bare chest. At least he had on pajama pants this time. A naked Tripp hugging me led to groping more often than not. Though I think he’s gotten the hint that he can’t be as familiar with me as he once was. I’m just not in that place anymore.

  “This is weird, Bridge.”

  I placed my hands over his chest and rested my chin on top. “What is?”

  “You, dating. Like, really dating someone.”

  Tilting my head to the side I tried to gauge his mood. “Yeah, kind of. What was going on with you last night? You were acting like a jealous boyfriend.” I kissed his chest right above his heart. One of his large hands came up and ruffled the shaggy hair. He needed a trim.

  “Truth?” he asked.

  “Truth,” I said and nodded, waiting for him to continue. He obviously had something on his mind. He’d been acting strange the last couple weeks, but last night, his anger and irritation with Collier took the cake.

  “I’m not sure I’m capable of letting you be with another man.” He threw a hand over his eyes as the words smacked me up the side of the head like a frying pan.

  “Tripp, I’m not sure I understand? I’ve been with more men than I’d like to take credit for. You know that.” My best friend looked at me with those sparkling eyes, sorrow and pain etched into deep lines in his normally perfect face. I hugged him tight, trying to put all the love I had for him into that one embrace. “Tell me what’s going on?”

  “Bridge.” His voice was dry, cracked, sounding like sandpaper along a prickly wooden surface. “You’re all I have.”

  I sat up, tears pooling as understanding dawned bright and clear as a new day. “Tripp Devereaux, I love you more than anyone. No man I’m dating or not dating is ever going to change that.” He gripped my hand and kissed my palm. “Truth!” I let one tear fall. He kissed it away from my cheek.

  “Still doesn’t keep me from being afraid. What happens when you finally take that leap? Can you promise you’ll never leave me?”

  Tripp’s biggest fear, live and in living color. He lost his whole family when he came out about being bisexual, not that his family was anything to brag about. His mother constantly abused him, mentally and physically, until the day he tried to take his own life. He also had a brother he left to drown in a life filled with sex and drugs. The guilt over leaving his brother in that house was a whole different ball of hell he constantly carried around.

  It took all I had not to scream at him that I would never, was never, going to leave him. But I couldn’t say that. James said it to me and he left…forever. “We never know what our future will bring but I do know that wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, you will always be one of the most important people in my life.” I forced him to sit up and I crawled into his lap, hugging him. “You’re my family. No man can take that away from us. If he even tries, he’s not worth my time. Now that I promise you!”

  We spent long moments just listening to one another breathe, calming the rapid beating of our hearts. Slowly, I tunneled my fingers through his hair.

  “You need a trim. You want me to cut it today?” He nodded against my chest. I waited a couple more minutes until he took a deep breath. “You gonna continue to give Collier a hard time?”

  The smile that lit his face was priceless. It spoke of everything I loved about my best friend. His boyish charm, his roguish features, his sad eyes. “Yes, yes I am. If he’s got my best girl on his radar, I’m going to rile him every chance I get.”

  I slumped into his chest, defeated.

  He laughed. “Hey, it’s my job as your heart’s protector to make sure he’s good enough for my girl.”

  “You are not my protector.”

  “Oh yes I am. Just like you’re always flicking at the little bimbo cling-ons that try to stick to me, I’ll be keeping an eye on Mr. Bond.”

  “He really hates that you call him that,” I mused.

  Those eyes lit up again. “I know.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  ***

  To: London Kelley

  From: Collier Stone

  What are you doing right now?

  Okay, so I’ve resorted to the wankers way out of calling London. Texting is impersonal but it gets the job done. She can avoid a call or choose not to check her messages. With a text, you know from the little icon that she’s seen it. Several minutes go by and the icon still says “Sent” instead of “Seen.” Curse the blasted thing. Jane comes in to bring me my afternoon tea and biscuits or as the Yanks say, cookies. I figure eventually the American terms will filter into my regular speech but after five years, I’ve not lost my accent, though I definitely find it easier to understand Americans after having lived here for so long.

  In the beginning, things I would say would bring down the house. I recall addressing our staff at a Christmas party and I said, “Blow me! You all look terrific this evening.” The entire audience, including each staff member’s plus one, howled with laughter. I didn’t get the joke. In England “blow me” is a common term for being surprised or ‘blown away’ by something. Yanks think it’s an offer of sexual service. Over time, I’ve gotten used to items that put me arse over tit with the Americans and have worked hard to learn more about their culture and colloquialisms.

  “What type of cookie is this?” I asked Jane. She smiled, knowing I was making the effort to use her term.

/>   “Very good.” She smiled sweetly. “These are shortbread Girl Scout cookies. I figured they’d go well with the tea.”

  I took a bite and smiled, letting the dark tones of the Earl Gray flutter over my taste buds. “It does. Very well, thank you. Might I chat privately with you about a personal matter, Jane?”

  She sat down abruptly. Her pristine gray suit was a bit big on her lengthy frame, but she’s not the type to worry about looking attractive over smart. Jane is by far one of my most trusted employees at Stone, Walker, & Associates. She’s been with me the entire five years since we opened in the states. If you looked up the word smart in the dictionary, it would have a picture of Jane.

  “You recall that dinner you set up?”

  “For you and Ms. Kelley? That would be London Kelley, sister to client Aspen Bright-Reynolds of Air Bright Enterprises.”

  “Bloody hell. That’s fantastic! How did you know all that?”

  Her pink lips tipped into a soft smile. Jane’s face was plain but not unattractive. She’d be quite a fine bird if she smiled more often. The sweep of thick hair was pulled back in an ever present bun. I don’t think during her entire sojourn here I’ve ever seen her hair down. There has to be a lot of it. Made me wonder what she looked like in a casual setting.

  “Mr. Stone.”

  I rolled my eyes. I’d asked her to call me Collier for five years and to this day, she still refused.

  “When my boss suddenly asks me to make reservations for a date, something he has never asked me to do, I make a point to glean as much information as possible. Would you like to know more?”

  More about London Kelley? Hell yes! I wanted to scream. Instead I played it cool. “By all means, share.”

  “London Abigail Bright-Reynolds was born on February fourteenth and will turn twenty-seven next year.”

  “Wow. And her birthday is Valentine’s Day? Fits the woman.” Completely afraid of love. How ironic.

  Jane smiles and continues. “She married James Kelley at the ripe age of eighteen and was married for four years before being widowed.”

  Jane knew her stuff.

  “Ms. Kelley lives with one Tripp Devereaux but the only information I could find about him was that he’s worked in modeling for AIR Bright Enterprises and has spent the last few years working in restaurants. He currently works in that overly priced French restaurant next to Armani on Fifth called Magnifique’.”

  She’s about to continue when I cut her off. “That’s all. I prefer to find out the rest the old-fashioned way. But London is the reason I wanted to chat with you. Was hoping you could help me again. I want to take Ms. Kelley on another date. Something a bit more casual. What do Yanks find entertaining?”

  “You act like we’re the foreigners. We’re not that different from you British folks. Have you considered something like dinner and a movie?”

  I jumped up and pulled on Jane’s hands. Her eyes widened with concern as I yanked her into a full-bodied hug. “Smashing, Jane! You’re brilliant!” I hugged her tight but she kept her arms at her sides, clearly uncomfortable. I didn’t care. My most beloved personal assistant was the bees’ knees and I wanted to show it. Quickly before she could escape, I kissed one side of her face, then the other and let her go. A beautiful pink blush rose on her cheeks as she smiled shyly.

  “I’m glad I could be of service. A bit more tea, Mr. Stone?”

  “Another would be lovely. Thank you.”

  As Jane left I pulled up Google to find out what shows were playing on the big screen. As I searched, my phone pinged. Finally!

  To: Collier Stone

  From: London Kelley

  Fighting with a boutique on a piece of furniture they are trying to overcharge me for. What are you doing?

  To: London Kelley

  From: Collier Stone

  Planning our date.

  To: Collier Stone

  From: London Kelley

  Really. Give me a hint?

  To: London Kelley

  From: Collier Stone

  Nope. Mums the word. May I be so forward as to suggest you pack a bag for the evening?

  Nerves scuttled up my spine and a fine sheen of sweat broke across my forehead as I waited her reply. Suddenly it was very hot in here. Stifling really. I undid the noose they call a tie and a couple of the buttons on my dress shirt. Would she find me too bold? Was asking her to stay the night inappropriate? Shite. I’d have to get rid of Emma.

  I pressed the button for Emma’s desk. She answered on the first ring. “Hello, brother mine.”

  “Hey Em, can you plan to stay at Nathaniel’s this weekend?”

  “Hmmm depends…“ she responded coyly.

  “On what?” Fury laced my tone.

  “Who’s coming over? Is it the hot woman you manhandled at Nate’s party?”

  “Yes. I mean. I didn’t manhandle her.” I sighed. “Can you please stay with him? I want some time alone with London.”

  After a beat, she replied. “You really like her.”

  I took a deep breath and laid it out there. “I do, Em. More than I want to.”

  “I’ll make myself scarce this weekend. Love you. Bye.”

  My phone pinged again.

  To: Collier Stone

  From: London Kelley

  I like forward. Bag will be packed. Where are you taking me?

  To: London Kelley

  From: Collier Stone

  Nowhere you’d expect. And we will be staying at my place. My sister will be at Nathaniel’s.

  To: Collier Stone

  From: London Kelley

  Hmmm I’ll bet I can get it out of you. That’s nice of your sister to give you space. I’d jump you with your sister there or not.

  Chriminy! Talk about forward. London takes the term to a whole new place--one that quickly worked its magic down south. My willy was hard as steel at the thought of shagging her while my sister slept in the other room. Almost sounded indecent even though we were grown adults.

  To: London Kelley

  From: Collier Stone

  Christ woman. Keep that up and I’ll be taking you in the car when I pick you up.

  There. Now I’ve played her game, settling the score. Too quickly my cell phone pinged again. The woman was wicked fast with her texts.

  To: Collier Stone

  From: London Kelley

  Promises, promises.

  That was it. She was the perfect woman. No one in the world could take me from zero to a hundred on the lust-o-meter in the middle of the blessed day while at work. My cock was painfully hard just thinking about taking her in the car. And the bed.

  Somehow I had to make good on this date. London was quickly becoming an obsession. Thoughts of her filled every recess of my mind at work, at home, in the shower, eating dinner, sitting in front of the TV, poring over legal documents. If I didn’t get her to commit to being mine for whatever length of time this was between us, I’d never be rid of the righteous need to have her constantly. As it stood, I was on the sheer edge of jumping in my Porsche, finding her and taking her on the steps of wherever she was. Public be damned.

  Just focus on this weekend. A few more days and she’d be by my side, all around me. I couldn’t wait. I decided one last text was in order.

  To: London Kelley

  From: Collier Stone

  I always keep my promises, Beauty. Always. Friday night. 6:00 p.m.

  Chapter - 12

  Tonight was the night. I’d spent all week staying exceptionally busy. It had been easy. Tripp was clingy and Dylan was barely speaking to me. Even though I’d made it clear to my client that our personal relationship wasn’t happening under the sheets anymore, he had taken offense.

  We had the discussion last week about not having a physical relationship and he didn’t understand. He felt as if he’d done something wrong. I could have told him that I’d met someone else and that someone else didn’t take too kindly to sharing, but frankly it wasn’t his business.

&nb
sp; And telling him would kill all the progress Dylan had made in learning to let loose, and be freer with his feelings. I’d simply told him I was no longer interested in a physical relationship and would not have sex with him. He spent a full week ignoring me, making it incredibly uncomfortable to share a living space. Several times, I thought about just staying home. Unfortunately Tripp’s clingy behavior put a kibosh on that. He needed time to work through his own issues about my…whatever this was…with Collier.

  “Check this out!” I laid a flyer for a new club opening up in front of Dylan.

  “Looks fun. Do you want to go?” Dylan eyes shone with a new happiness. I hadn’t seen it in the better part of two weeks.

  I shook my head. “Nope. This is the part about changing your life. You need to call some buddies, take these tickets--” I laid four VIP passes next to the flyer. “--dress up. I’ll pick what you wear. And go to this club. Your next task is to troll for women…alone. Without me. I’ll be leaving for the weekend. When I come back, I want to see at least a handful of phone numbers of the women you picked up.”

  “London, I don’t know. I feel a little better about hitting on a woman, but several? I’m not sure I can.” He shrugged and wiped a hand over his face.

  Rolling my eyes, I plopped into the kitchen chair next to him and placed my hand over his. “Dylan, you are a good-looking guy. You’re nice. You’re secure financially. And you respect women. There’s no reason you can’t go to a club and pick up several women. Start building your own list of hotties, if you will. The goal is to change your life, not just your home. You can do this. I believe in you.”

  Dylan picked up the tickets and spread them out like a wad of cash. “You think so, eh?”

  “I do. It’s what you need. What friends can you invite?”

  “My brother and maybe one other guy would be interested. I’ve spent the better part of the last few years building my career and working my ass off, not keeping in touch with old friends or making new ones.” He seemed a bit sad to admit his lack of friends. That needed to change.