by Nina Lane
Chapter
EIGHT
Stupid Rubik’s Cube.
Julia dropped the torture device back into her handbag with a scowl. She had a million other better things to do.
She picked up the Before Fifty list from her desk and scanned the items. Learn to say the alphabet backward.
How hard could that be?
ZYXWV… TU… no, UT.
ZYXWVUT. Why she’d thought at nineteen years old that knowing this would be in any way useful, she had no idea. But at least it was easier than the Rubik’s Cube.
ZYXWVUTSRQ… If she memorized three letters at a time, she’d have it down in less than ten minutes. Not that this knowledge would be useful now either, but—
Julia shook her head and pushed the list away. She was an adult, for heaven’s sake, not a teenager.
She opened her Montblanc planner to her bullet-point list of action items. The list that mattered.
Taking her mind off the alphabet, she set to work and crossed several items off her agenda—staff holiday bonuses, schedules to volunteers, candy canes for Santa, Wee Tinsel to march in Fa La La Parade.
With those completed, she went to her studio to retackle her Appear clothing line. She reworked some of her concepts, adding new embellishments and changing the fabrics and patterns. Though she wasn’t struck with great inspiration, she ended her day with a sense of accomplishment. Not only had she gotten a fresh start and made a dent in her list, she’d also gotten her assistants to do their work without crying into their skinny lattes.
As she packed up to leave, her phone rang with a call from Minnie of the Holiday Festival committee. Julia sighed the sigh of a martyr and picked it up.
“Hello, Minnie.”
“Good news, Julie.”
“Julia.”
“Julie, we just received word that we’ve been given a craploa… er, I mean a great deal of money for the Deck the Halls finale. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Julia opened her mouth and closed it again, struggling to find her voice.
“Where did this donation come from?” she managed to ask.
“Oh, an anonymous donor,” Minnie said cheerfully. “Now you should have plenty for everything, including the fireworks.”
Julia’s shoulders tensed. “I’ll… I’ll have to look into this.”
“You’ll figure it out, dear,” Minnie said. “Make a new list in that fancy book of yours.”
Julia hung up the phone and glowered at her “fancy book.” Warren Stone. Sugar Rush superhero saves Deck the Halls.
Damn him.
She walked to her BMW and drove to Warren’s house, glad to see four of her nephews’ cars in the driveway. Cowardly though it might be, she needed the big, burly presence of her nephews as a buffer against their father. Their smoldering, muscular father who sent her into flames with one…
Stop it!
ZYXWVUTSRQ… ZYXWVUTSRQPO…
“Hello, boys.” She crossed the great room, where Adam and Carson were watching TV, and entered the kitchen. Hailey sat at the kitchen counter working on her tablet, and a rush of pleasure filled Julia at the sight of her niece.
“Hi, Peanut.”
“Aunt Julia!” Hailey leapt off the stool and hurried over to throw her arms around Julia. “Carson said he didn’t know if you’d be here because of the Holiday Festival stuff.”
“Nothing could keep me from seeing you.” Julia embraced her niece tightly, then stepped back to drink in the sight of her. With her shiny, shoulder-length brown hair and fine, elegant features, Hailey had an understated beauty enhanced by her quiet, reserved personality. At twenty-four, she’d recently graduated from Stanford with a degree in botany and was working at the Golden Gate Park Conservancy while considering graduate school options. In Julia’s eyes, Hailey was one of the few people in the world who could do no wrong.
“How’s your job going?” she asked.
“Great. I get to hang out with plants and flowers, and they’re really good listeners.”
Julia smiled, even as sorrow twined through her. Hailey had been eleven when she’d been injured in the same car accident that had killed Rebecca. The subsequent weeks in the hospital combined with the trauma and grief of her mother’s death had unsurprisingly changed Hailey from a bright, outgoing girl to one who was far more introverted and cautious. Though with a great deal of work and therapy, she’d made a full physical recovery, the psychological effects lingered and she still preferred solitude over socialization.
Not that that was a bad thing. Warren and the boys had always been overprotective of her, but after the accident they’d circled around her like guardian lions to keep anything harmful at bay. She’d branched out on her own when she went to Stanford, but the shelter of home and family had always been close by, and her “brotherhood of lions” guard remained firmly in place.
And while Julia wanted her niece’s emotional and physical safety more than anything, she also wanted Hailey to enjoy her youth and freedom. To not miss out on anything.
“Any new friends?” she asked casually.
She didn’t want to be the aunt pestering her niece about her social life, but frankly, with her six hulking, hovering brothers stalking her Facebook page and scrutinizing the few boyfriends she’d had, Hailey didn’t have a lot—if any—secrets. But Julia still preferred getting the intel directly from Hailey rather than secondhand.
“Don’t ask,” Hailey muttered, hitching herself back onto the stool.
Julia frowned. “What happened?”
“Dickhead boyfriend ditched her for a friend.” Tyler ambled into the kitchen, grabbed Hailey with one arm, and gave her a noogie. “Good riddance to bad garbage, is what I say.”
Outrage flickered in Julia on her niece’s behalf. “I should say so.”
“Oof. Quit it.” Hailey scowled at Tyler and shoved him away. “That is not what happened. Pete and I had been friends throughout our senior year. Then he asked me out, and things got weird so we broke up. Now we’re neither friends nor dating.”
“You want us to go have a talk with the guy?” Carson came into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Say the word.”
“No, but thanks for the offer.” Hailey rolled her eyes, but her voice was filled with affection.
Being at home for the holidays, especially with her large, protective brothers, would heal her niece’s hurt. Hailey had a strong bond with all the boys, especially Adam. When she’d been in the hospital, he’d brought her a seed starter kit complete with a growing tray and heat lamp. Everyone else had been a bit baffled by the gift—especially considering neither Adam nor Hailey had ever expressed the slightest interest in gardening. But he’d told her, “When these are ready to plant, you’ll be out of the hospital.”
He’d been right. Caring for the seeds and watching them grow had given Hailey a renewed hope and a goal. When she’d finally returned home, she and Adam had planted the flourishing seedlings in the garden. And Hailey’s love for plants had taken root.
“I meant to tell you I have tickets to the San Jose Ballet performance of the Nutcracker tomorrow night,” Julia told her niece. “Would you like to go?”
“Didn’t you know?” Hailey frowned. “I have to head back to the city tomorrow. I’m in charge of the plants over the holidays, and I can’t leave them alone for too long. I’m sorry.”
Julia smothered a stab of disappointment. “That’s all right. I have other plans. For a break from all things Christmas, I booked us a spa day on Wednesday. Massages, herbal wraps, the works.”
“I won’t be back until the Sugar Rush holiday party.” Hailey’s forehead creased. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Julia. I thought Dad told you.”
Dad hadn’t told her much of anything lately. Except to bend over his desk and spread her legs for him.
“I’ll go with you,” Tyler offered. “I like herbal wraps, especially with turkey and extra mayo.”
Julia shook her head at her nephew. “How does Kate put up with you?”<
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“She loves me just the way I am.” Tyler arched an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, what’s going on with Dad?”
Julia sighed. Gossip in the Stone family spread like a bad rash. Warren’s alleged “dating” would be no different.
“We don’t know for sure,” Carson said. “He’s being kind of James Bond secretive about it, but we think he’s getting—”
“Carson,” Julia said repressively.
“…into the dating scene,” he finished, giving her an engaging grin. “Maybe even serious with one woman.”
“Not Gia, I hope.” Hailey’s mouth twisted, and she turned back to her tablet. “She seemed like she’d be more into Dad’s status and money than him as a person. And there are plenty of other women better for him. What about you, Aunt Julia?”
For an instant, Julia misinterpreted her niece’s remark as a query about whether or not she, Julia, was “better for” Warren than Gia. She swallowed the automatic “Of course I am” that rose to her throat.
“What about me?” she asked.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Julia didn’t respond. She slanted her gaze past Tyler to where Warren was crossing the great room to the kitchen. Her heart forgot that she was angry with him because it did a little hopscotch. Which was ridiculous because she saw Warren practically every day.
But did she notice every day how mouth-watering he looked in worn jeans that hugged his long legs, and that navy T-shirt stretching over his broad chest and impressive biceps… wow, how had she never noticed those biceps before? Good heavens, the sleeves of his shirt were too tight around his muscles. He must be hitting the gym extra hard these days.
She unwillingly recalled the boys’ speculation about their father also apparently hitting the dating scene extra hard.
Warren was watching her, his brown eyes shuttered. Unease rose to her chest. When had he ever been shuttered from her?
The looks they exchanged had always contained a hundred unspoken words that only they understood. In meetings for the Rebecca Stone Foundation, at family gatherings, charity dinners, Sugar Rush events—all she had to do was look at Warren to have a conversation with him.
Yes, we should definitely do that. Nope, that idea sucks. Warren, is it time to go yet because these heels are killing me, and you look bored to death… Jules, you need to wear that dress more often because I want to rip it right off you and—
Well, maybe he hadn’t said that with one look at her.
Or had he?
“I can’t stay for dinner.” Luke entered the kitchen, his voice breaking into her thoughts. “I gotta go help Polly at Wild Child. But we’re going out to get the tree tomorrow, right? Carson said it was a one p.m. call, meeting here to carpool up to the mountains. Polly and I will bring lunch for everyone, if Dad can provide the drinks.”
“Turns out I have plans tomorrow,” Warren said. “I’ll have to meet you at the site.”
Tyler and Luke exchanged glances—one of the knowing guy looks that Julia had learned to decipher over the years. Jealousy stabbed through her.
She crossed her arms and leveled a dark scowl at Warren.
“Did I tell you the Deck the Halls show had a sudden infusion of cash from an anonymous donor?” she asked crisply.
“Great,” Tyler said. “Maybe now I can get an elf costume.”
“Bit of a coincidence,” Julia continued. “All things considered.”
“Sounds like the show needed some help.”
“As long as it wasn’t payment for services rendered.”
His expression hardened. “Jules, we need to go over a few things in my office.”
Their gazes clashed in challenge. Julia swept past Luke and strode down the corridor to Warren’s office.
They entered the office, and he closed the door behind them. As soon as the lock clicked, Julia whirled to face him.
“Really? You really threw a bunch of money at Deck the Halls right after we…” She swallowed hard.
“…fucked?” Warren finished.
Jesus. That one word in his deep, gravelly voice jolted her like the thrust of his cock.
“I would hardly call it a coincidence,” she said.
“So you think it’s payment for services rendered?” Warren’s expression darkened. “You know me better than that.”
Yes, she did. And knowing him was the exact same as loving him.
“How about I did it because you’re making yourself sick doing too many things and refusing my help?” Warren said.
“I told you I can handle it.” Julia paced to the windows. “How could you do that without consulting me?”
“Because you wouldn’t have taken the money if I had. You’ve never taken my help, not even when you need it.”
“That’s not the point!” She fisted her hands at her sides. “The point is that you shoved your way into a situation that is not yours to control. It’s mine. I took on the responsibility of the show, and I don’t need you swooping in to rescue me just because things got a little rough.”
“I didn’t do it to rescue you,” Warren retorted. “I gave the money to the city council for the festival. I did it for the town.”
“Oh, please. You told Minnie it was for Deck the Halls, didn’t you? Because in addition to firing me from the Sugar Rush party, you needed to find another way to take responsibilities away from me.”
“I did not do this to take anything away from you.” Warren’s mouth tightened with frustration. “I did it to give something back to you.”
“What?” Julia spread her arms out. “What did you need to give back to me, Warren?”
“Christmas, dammit. Time. Your enjoyment of the holidays spent with your family.”
“Oh, God bless us every one, Tiny Tim.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not tiny.”
An unwelcome laugh bubbled into her throat.
“Well, I know that,” she muttered.
“Jules.” Warren approached her, his gaze on her face. “Use the money for the show. Give the festival committee the fireworks finale and whatever else they want. Everyone will love it, and you won’t need to drown yourself in mulled wine to get through it. Please.”
The please broke through her anger. And the truth that having a much bigger budget would ease her stress considerably.
“Well, I can’t tell the committee to give the money back,” she grumbled. “Now that they know about it, they’re ready to turn the show into a TV special. I hope you’re happy.”
“If it eases your workload, I am.” He strode to his desk and riffled through the papers spread over the surface.
Julia took a breath, trying to reconcile her emotions. She’d always relied on Warren for many things—support, advice, friendship—but she never wanted to be financially beholden to him or his company. It felt wrong, like she’d be taking money that rightfully belonged to his children.
And, much as she didn’t want to admit it, relying on Warren financially would negate all that she’d done on her own up to this point. Unlike her sister, Julia had been independent almost her entire adulthood. She’d worked her way up, started her own business, built her own company. Sugar Rush, Warren, the boys, and Hailey had all given her a home and a family, but her career remained hers alone.
“If you do something like this again, please tell me first.”
“Only if you promise to take what I offer.”
“It’ll have to depend on the offer.”
He glanced at her. Electricity sizzled between them. She averted her gaze, heat rising to her face.
“So where are you going tomorrow?” she asked.
“Out with a friend.”
“That’s more important than getting the Christmas tree?”
“Right now, yes.” He appeared unfazed by her sharp tone.
She willed herself not to feel jealous at the idea of him with a friend. A week ago, she wouldn’t have given his plans a second thought. But why was he being vague?
>
“Who’s the friend?” she asked casually.
“Amelie. We met in Switzerland. She’s visiting for the next week.”
Julia had had enough experiences in life to know not to make assumptions or take anything at face value. “Amelie” could be the VP at another company Warren was negotiating with. She could be his new financial advisor or a Sugar Rush supplier or—well, she could also be a woman he was seeing. He’d spent a lot of time in Switzerland over the past year, and it wouldn’t be any great surprise if he’d hooked up with a Swiss Miss who’d decided to visit him in California.
He was checking his phone, his head bent, his thick hair falling across his forehead. Her fingers itched with the urge to smooth it back, to tunnel her hand through the dark strands. The muscles of his arms shifted in the light, and his shirt stretched so beautifully over his broad chest that she wanted to slide her hands underneath it and touch his warm, strong muscles.
A tremble rippled across her skin. He lifted his head, their gazes meeting with a hot spark.
“The boys think you’re seeing someone.” Julia curled her fingers into her palms, her remark coming out almost involuntarily. “That that’s why you’re retiring, because you’re getting serious about a woman, and she might even be joining you on your ski trip. Is it Amelie?”
“Julia.” Warren set his phone on the desk and regarded her with faint amusement. “Amelie is just a friend. But if the boys want to think I’m hooking up with someone else, great. At least they’re not plotting to put me in an old folks’ home.”
“Knowing you, you’d get some geriatric action there anyway,” Julia remarked dryly.
“I intend to polish my cane regularly no matter where I am.” He winked at her.
She couldn’t help smiling, the tension in her bones easing a bit. Their relationship was strong enough to withstand even a big mistake. Even Warren’s need for control.
Though she had liked it when he’d controlled her. A lot.
A shiver rippled down her spine.
He crossed to the door and stopped in front of her. Julia’s heartbeat accelerated, her nerves lighting up at his mere proximity and the thought that he was about to touch her. He leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear. Her blood heated.
