by Ivy Layne
Her design was the complete opposite of mine, but I liked it. Where my kitchen was dark, with bold colors and dense concrete countertops, hers was all light.
Custom white cabinets with glass doors on the top, all the appliances covered in the same white woodwork. Beautiful white marble on the counters and island, deep farmhouse sinks like mine and a huge gas range, also like mine.
It was smart, considering that the big window in the kitchen looked out onto the covered porch. The view was pretty, but without direct sunlight, the room could've been too dim.
Charlie had chosen a funky black iron and crystal chandelier to hang over the island. It was an offbeat choice, but I could see, looking at the rest of the room, that it would be perfect. A spark of Charlie in an otherwise too-perfect kitchen.
She was good at this. If she decided to flip the house, she'd probably make a decent profit even considering how much she was using contractors.
She was planning on keeping this place, but I caught her checking out listings in the neighborhood on her tablet. I'd wondered if she was being so stingy about the truck because she wanted to keep her cash handy to invest in another house.
I hated that truck. I knew I'd been a dick at the dealership. And I respected that she wasn't wasting money. I did.
But Charlie was too good for a piece of shit truck. She deserved something better. If she'd let me, I would've bought her a new one.
Stupid, I know.
I was never reckless with my savings, but the second I'd offered, I knew I meant it. I wanted her to have something from me. Something I'd given her, something that she needed.
I didn't try to justify the impulse. I was afraid if I thought about it too much, I wouldn't like what it said about my feelings for Charlie. I should have been relieved she turned me down. I wasn't.
If she wouldn't let me buy her a truck, at least she was letting me keep her safe. I packed up her things with quick efficiency. She'd only brought a duffel bag from Winters House, but in the weeks since, her belongings had expanded.
It took two trips, but I managed to get her moved in, making space on the other side of my dresser for her stuff. I was not going to think about the jolt in my chest at seeing her clothes neatly folded in her own drawer in my bedroom.
I was not going to think about the way they looked right, her T-shirts, her lace underwear and practical athletic bras. I wasn't going to take a deep breath, absorbing the flowery fruity scent of her lotion.
It didn't belong here.
She didn't belong here.
The sooner I got that straight in my head, the better.
It was time to draw some boundaries. For my own sake, if not for hers. Sleeping with her, moving her in with me, that was all tied up in protecting her and our previous arrangement as neighbors with benefits.
Going to dinner at Winters House? That was another thing altogether. It was as close to dinner with her parents as I'd ever get, and it sent everyone the wrong message.
Before I could think too much, I picked up my phone and dialed Charlie, intending to cancel. She could get a ride home with one of her brothers or Vance and Magnolia.
Charlie didn't answer.
"Problem?" Aiden asked brusquely.
Mentally shifting gears, I said, "No problem. Stuff has come up. I'm not going to make dinner. Can you give Charlie a ride home?"
There was a long pause.
Then Aiden said, "Bullshit. I wouldn't have taken you for a pussy."
Did he just call me a pussy?
Gritting my teeth, I said, "Fuck off, Winters. I said something came up."
"Yeah, and I said it's bullshit. You don't have to be scared. We don't bite."
"Now I'm agreeing with Charlie. You're an asshole," I said. I wanted to hang up on him. I wanted to go over there, snatch up Charlie, and drag her back to my house so we could avoid the whole Winters family scene.
Dammit.
"Fine." I ground out.
"Dinner is at seven. Be here by six." Aiden hung up.
Asshole.
I got in a few hours of work before I closed my laptop and headed to Winters House. Charlie had given me the gate code, so I didn't have to go through the pain in the ass of calling the house to get on the property.
I liked living in the Highlands, liked the energy and the people. But there was something awe-inspiring about rolling down the long drive, shaded by old-growth trees, to discover Winters House nestled in the hills.
On ten acres in the heart of Buckhead, Winters House was a fairytale, the kind of house I'd thought royalty lived in when I was a poor kid growing up in a trailer.
Built in a square around a central courtyard in a Mediterranean-style, the red tile roof and creamy walls were warm and welcoming despite the dark iron gates blocking access to the inner courtyard. They opened smoothly as I approached.
I'd been in houses like this before, mostly on the job or meeting clients. Rarely as a guest.
My years in the Army, and those I'd spent on my own after I went private, had given me the confidence to deal with people on every level of society.
Money didn't intimidate me. Neither did power. If I was here on a job, it would be business as usual. No big deal. I wouldn't have this niggling certainty in my gut that I didn't belong anywhere near Winters House. Or Charlie.
Day by day, being with Charlie was so easy, so natural, I forgot who she really was. I'd started calling her Princess to poke at her, but lately to me, Princess just meant Charlie.
My Charlie.
But Charlie had grown up here, like a real princess behind castle walls. She was so far out of my league it was like looking at the sun. I'd been right to try and cancel.
I already knew I was in too deep with her, but I wasn't ready to let her go.
Not yet.
Deep down, in the hidden parts of my heart I rarely examined, I had the fear that seeing me in Winters House, surrounded by her family, she'd realize I didn't belong and that would be the end.
I was here now. It was too late to run away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LUCAS
I parked in front of the garage beside a Range Rover and let myself into the house. I couldn't picture myself ever living in a place this size. It was fucking enormous. I'd stayed in hotels that were smaller.
Everything about the house spoke of old-world quality. I'd spent enough time rehabbing my own place to appreciate the smooth grain of the quarter-sawn oak and the way the ivory walls contrasted with the dark wood trim without being cold.
Winters House smelled of beeswax and faintly of flowers. My mother's trailer had reeked of stale cigarettes, undercut by the bleach that clung to her skin after long days of scrubbing toilets.
Memory and reality clashed, shoving me off-balance.
I followed the sound of voices through the front hall to what looked like the formal living room. The heavy crown molding, silk drapes, and expensive furniture called for cocktail dresses and suits, but the Winters clan was having none of that.
Even Aiden wore jeans with his button-down shirt. I didn't think I'd ever seen him without a tie. Despite his casual dress, stress had drawn grooves on either side of his mouth and the dark circles beneath his eyes were worse.
When he saw me, he grinned in triumph. I stopped myself before I could growl in response.
I spotted Charlie a second later, curled up on one of the couches, trying gamely to hang onto her cousin Vance's daughter, Rosalie. The baby was five months old and didn't seem to want to cuddle.
Beside her sat Maggie, a shapely redhead I'd met a few times when she came by to see Charlie. Engaged to Vance, Maggie already seemed to think of Rosie as her own. Charlie looked up to see me and her eyes brightened.
"Hey. You're here. Do you want anything to drink?"
She passed Rosalie back to Maggie and picked up her beer off a side table.
"I'll take a beer," I said.
"Sure you don't want a whiskey?" Aiden asked, a gleam in his eye.
"After your Macallan, everything else is a step down," I said, grinning at him. I heard a hoot of laughter from across the room and saw Vance elbow Jacob, her brother.
"You owe me," Aiden said.
I shrugged and shook my head. "I don't think so. That would be Charlie. I was just in the right place at the right time."
"I'm jealous," Jacob said. "I asked him twenty times to let me try it. Nothing, the selfish bastard. How was it? "
"It was so smooth," Charlie interrupted, smirking at her brothers and Vance. "So good, I don't think words can do it justice."
"You know if any of us had stolen a fifteen thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey from Aiden, he would've beaten the shit out of us," Vance said blandly.
Charlie shrugged. "I've spent my entire life putting up with you overbearing Winters men ruining all my fun. There have to be some perks. Anyway, Aiden deserved it."
"Agreed," Vance said. At Aiden's noise of affront, he looked at his older cousin and said, "Sorry, man. But you did. Firing Charlie was an asshole move. You know it. I know it. Everybody knows it."
"He's right," Jacob said, ignoring Aiden's scowl.
"You guys always gang up on Aiden," a low, sweet voice broke in. Abigail Jordan. I had a feeling it wouldn't be long until she was Abigail Winters if the way Jacob looked at her was any indication. I hadn't seen her since the night I killed Big John, and then only the back of her robe as she ran for Jacob's safe room.
Tonight, she was dressed more formally than anyone else in the room in a light blue linen dress with matching shoes, her hair up in a complicated looking twist. Except for the last time we crossed paths, I'd never seen her casually dressed.
She looked directly at me, her eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't name. I wondered if she was afraid of me. I'd shot and killed a man only a few feet from her. That would be enough to scare anyone.
Turning to Charlie with sympathy in her eyes, she said, "I'm sorry, honey. I agree he didn't handle that very well. And I know sometimes, these guys go overboard when they think they know best. But he acted out of love."
"It's nice to know someone around here appreciates me," Aiden said, his smile at Abigail affectionate and gentle.
Jacob shook his head at his brother.
"Stop flirting with my woman," he said.
Abigail sent him an exasperated look. "Just because someone's nice to me, doesn't mean they're flirting," she said.
"You guys are such cavemen," Maggie complained. She held Rosalie up in front of her and nuzzled her nose into the baby's stomach. Rosie erupted into a fountain of baby giggles, the sound pure joy. "I shudder to think what Vance will be like when Rosie discovers boys."
"Rosie is never going to discover boys," Vance said. "Rosie is going to join a nunnery when she's twelve. If she behaves herself, I may pick her husband for her when she's thirty-five. Preferably a eunuch."
Jacob and Aiden both made sounds of agreement. Maggie just shook her head and ignored them.
A bell rang somewhere in the house, and everyone stood. Must be dinner time. Charlie handed me a beer she'd gotten from the wet bar by the door and looped her arm through mine as we walked to the dining room.
Abigail stopped us in the hall with a hand on my arm. Looking up at me with brimming eyes, she said, "Lucas Jackson. I'm so sorry I haven't been to see you since Charlie moved in next door. Jacob wouldn't tell me where you lived before."
"Why did you want to see me?" I asked, confused, and sent a quick glance at Jacob, who was eyeing us with an amused expression.
"I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me. I know trying to help me made the whole situation with Big John worse. You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did," I said. Abigail had been in a bad spot with her former father-in-law. I couldn't have left her to face it alone. She'd risked her future to help her sick mother. She didn't deserve what Big John was going to do to her.
"No," she said, her eyes meeting mine with a level gaze. "You didn't. Except for Jacob, no one else helped me. I was in your way and you changed your plans to keep me safe. It means a lot and I wanted you to know. I wish I'd been able to thank you at the time, but—"
But I'd just shot a man and hadn't stuck around to chat. And Jacob hadn't been eager to let his woman anywhere near me.
"It's okay. You're welcome. I'm just glad to see you're doing so well. Is your mom hanging in there?"
She nodded. "Some days are better than others. I don't think she has a lot of time left. It's good to be able to visit her so much."
"I'm sorry," I said. Her grief when she spoke of her mother was palpable, weighing down her voice.
"Thank you, so am I. I hope you didn't get in too much trouble for, um, Big John. Jacob said you didn't."
"No, I didn't. Everything was fine."
"Good," she said with a smile.
Jacob swept by, sliding his arm around her waist. He swung her away from me with an exaggerated scowl in my direction and said to Abigail, "I told you to stop flirting. Especially with men who once threatened to kidnap you."
Abigail let out a lighthearted giggle, a sound I'd never heard from her before. She patted the side of his face before kissing his cheek. "Maggie is right. You are a caveman."
Jacob made a grunting sound and nuzzled her ear as he led her into the dining room, oblivious to Charlie and me behind them.
The formal dining room in Winters House was more suited to a state dinner than a family meal. A long, polished table stretched the length of the room, surrounded by heavy, ornately carved wooden chairs with dark velvet seats.
At one end was an enormous stone fireplace, left cold this time of year. The beamed ceiling rose for two full stories, and along two sides of the upper level, a railed gallery gave access to a built-in library, the shelves filled with books.
I couldn't see a way to access the library from the dining room. There had to be a hidden door to the second level. Winters House was impressive, but that dining room was the coolest thing I'd ever seen.
From the size of the table to the secret library tucked into the walls above our heads, it was all I could do not to stare. I was usually cooler than this.
Turning my attention back to Charlie, I let her lead me to a surprisingly comfortable seat. Few chairs were a good fit for a guy my size. With its tall back and well-cushioned, wide seat, this one was perfect.
I couldn't imagine myself living in a house that could pass for a hotel, but there was something to be said for having a personal chef. Especially since the Winters family tastes ran more toward home cooking than haute cuisine.
On the menu tonight were stuffed pork chops, some sort of potato dish layered with cheese, and green beans almandine. I wasn't a huge fan of green beans.
Based on the way Vance was shoving them around his plate, half burying them under the potatoes, neither was he. I saw Maggie elbow him and his sheepish smile in response. I had a feeling he'd be eating at least some of those green beans.
The conversation flowed around the table, hopping from topic to topic. It wasn't hard to keep up. None of them treated me like I didn't belong. There was no posturing about my relationship with Charlie, no attempt to get me alone and 'explain things'. Nothing was said on the topic at all. The lack of challenge left me unsettled.
Was it possible they'd already granted their approval?
Or did they know our fling had an expiration date, so they weren't wasting their energy?
They didn't give me a clue, and I found it frustrating. I was good at reading a room, but I couldn't make sense of the Winters family. They defied my every expectation.
Wealthy but not elitist.
Controlling and bossy but supportive and loving.
This had nothing to do with my experience of family.
Focused on my food, I finished dinner and dug into the strawberry shortcake the housekeeper served for dessert. Lulled by the sound of Charlie's laughter beside me and my comfortable surroundings, I lost the train of
the conversation.
It wasn't until I heard my name repeated that I looked up to find the whole table staring at me. Charlie's eyes were on me as well, but unlike the others, hers were worried and her cheeks were pink.
Normally, I loved it when she blushed. She could be so direct and ballsy that it was cute when she got embarrassed.
This time, it just made me nervous.
"What?" I asked.
"I asked if you thought it was safe for Charlie to come to the benefit tomorrow?" Aiden asked, his eyes on mine, his gaze penetrating.
I had the fleeting thought that he could see everything that passed through my mind. Taking the easy way out, I looked away.
Beside me, Charlie said in a low voice, "I forgot to mention it. There's a thing tomorrow, black tie. I'm supposed to go, but . . ."
She looked miserable and embarrassed. I was missing something. Maybe she didn't want me to go with her. Maybe she didn't want to drag her tattooed badass fuck-buddy to a charity benefit. If the Winters family was attending, I could bet it would be filled with the highest echelon of Atlanta society.
"It's probably safe enough," I said, glancing up at Aiden. Beside me, Charlie whispered, "Do you mind?"
I still couldn't read her and I wasn't going to ask what was wrong. Maybe it would've been smarter if I did ask. I never saw the point of uncertainty when a question could erase it.
But I wasn't sure I wanted this uncertainty erased. Was I ready to hear her tell me I wasn't the type you brought to a black-tie benefit?
Aiden was right. I was a pussy.
Hoping I was saying the right thing, I looked down at Charlie. "I don't mind. If you're sure you want to go, you're not going without me. I doubt Hayward would dare to make a move with an audience like that. He wants revenge, but he doesn't want the attention."
Looking up at Aiden, I asked, "Will Sinclair provide extra security?"
"Already done," Aiden answered.
"Then we'll be there," I said. Charlie let out a breath of relief.
At least, I thought she was relieved. Fuck.
