Laura laughed at the last. “You don’t care about money.”
“Not necessarily true. I have enough money because I care very much about it. We both know that no matter how much we make, you never miss the feeling that you could be back out on the street at any moment.”
Laura did know that feeling, which was why, like him, her ambition was always pushing her forward. Or people assumed it was ambition, but it was really fear. Fear that she’d never truly let go of the scared girl she’d been, scrounging for food from local restaurants, swiping the weird-looking discarded fruits and vegetables from grocery store storage rooms.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice subdued as she met his eyes. “I do. But you can’t live in the penthouse forever,” she pointed out.
Will shrugged. “No. I own some property in Connecticut and California, same in the Hamptons. One of these days I’ll hopefully spend some time there. Do you have a place in the city?”
“A duplex in a brownstone in the West Village.” It’d taken so much work to get it, but it felt amazing to call it hers. The first real home that was totally her own.
“Good investment,” Will said, impressed. He was starting to hover over her as she took a sip of her martini. In fact, she’d noticed him inching closer to her ever since they’d been nearly smooshed together, as if he hadn’t wanted to truly be not near her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, taking a step backward.
“Getting closer to you,” he told her, no prevaricating. It was so Will.
“Do you not have enough room?” she asked, knowing it was stupid, but they were in public and she wanted to rip his clothes off. Certainly some measure of restraint needed to be exercised.
She started backing away from him, but he grabbed her arm to still her progress. “I think the problem is there’s too much room.”
Unable to not do it, she looked down at his large hand on her pale, freckled arm and tried to get her libido in check. When his hand slid away, she didn’t meet his eyes, just took a step closer to him.
However, she still tried to keep things casual.
“So admit one thing you like about Christmas so I don’t think you’re dead inside.”
Will gave her a side-eye as an older couple squeezed past them on their way to the buffet. “I am dead inside, Laura.”
She knew it was said in jest, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a little true. For him to have the life he had growing up and to become so successful, he’d had to give up a lot and she suspected personal relationships were at the top of the list. He’d looked after her, but who had ever looked after Will Walker? She should have been that person.
“You are not,” she told him, grabbing his hand on her arm and giving it a squeeze.
He raised an eyebrow and took his hand back, considering her. “So you can cook, bake, decorate, run a business, manage my entire staff? You have really turned into a one-woman enterprise, haven’t you?”
Laura smiled, her heart warm because this was the Will she remembered, always lifting her up when she’d wanted to stop trying, stop believing. He was the one she turned to in those moments where anything seemed better than the life they were living and she so desperately wanted to give that back to him.
“A compliment from the famously tight-lipped Will Walker,” she acknowledged with a grin. “Now that’s a Christmas miracle.”
Their eyes locked, heat gathering again between them like it had done earlier. It was another long look fraught with tension and considering as they both sized the other up trying to figure out where they stood.
So when the martini glass disappeared from her hand and his warm body leaned into hers, she wasn’t surprised. But the moment stretched as they both considered the consequences of their actions. For her own part, Laura didn’t see a downside to a physical relationship with Will except that things could never be casual between them and to a man like Will, who clearly didn’t do any type of personal relationship, that might be a problem.
But any higher reasoning stalled out when his lips met hers, strong and firm and in charge. Time tilted, her breath simply quit and her entire body went limp. They’d barely touched and she was already unsteady on her feet. His taste, like whiskey and something deeper and more complex that was all Will tantalized her tongue, drawing her deeper into lust and fascination with him.
And just as she was leaning in for more, ready to abandon herself to it, he was gone.
“That was too soon,” he muttered, backing away from her into the crowded restaurant. “I’m sorry I overstepped.”
“It’s okay,” she told him, her voice mortifyingly breathy. “Consider it another Christmas present from me to you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
DO NOT THINK about the kiss was the mantra Laura had needed to adopt the next day when, in fact, the only thing she could think about was kissing Will. Spent the entire night alone in her bed behind a door she’d locked specifically so she wouldn’t go to his room, and had subsequently still spent every sleepless hour talking herself out of just saying the hell with it and going straight for him.
Which was why, on a surprisingly bright and sunny Christmas Eve when Will emerged from the hallway looking devastating with his too-long dark hair pushed back from his forehead, giving him a carelessly rakish appearance, Laura felt like resistance was futile.
She’d imagined spending Christmas Eve by his fire making more cookies and watching Christmas movies, but Will had insisted that they go out again. And while it wasn’t what she’d envisioned, she agreed that their proximity to each other was dangerous. Just being around him and smelling him, like leather and Will, was akin to some kind of modern willpower-trust exercise. The time they spent together alone was just her counting down the seconds she could last without touching him. And frankly, each minute she lasted was a miracle. To be presented with physical evidence, namely his face and whole person, of that kiss all day would be a nightmare. For crying out loud, his lips were just always right there. Just out in the world for anyone to see, as if something so lewd shouldn’t be unlawful.
So that was why they were going to get the hell out of this hotel again. And why she’d squeezed herself into a green sweater dress and heeled leather boots to be the woman on his arm like she’d been last night. Today they were going to a charity brunch for a children’s hospital at the Four Seasons, a hotel that he’d disparaged several times in the last hour, to hobnob with more of the city’s rich and famous. The minimum donation for a plate was ten thousand dollars, which meant it was an event for the elitest of the elite.
“You could save a good chunk of money if you just went by yourself,” she pointed out as she met Will in front of the elevator’s doors.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “I normally buy two and sometimes three plates at these things so I don’t have to talk to whatever jerk they seat me next to.”
“Wow,” Laura remarked, eyeing him as he put on his overcoat, covering up and yet accentuating his broad shoulders. “I didn’t realize just how deep your disdain for other people was.”
He gave her a knowing look. “Give me a break. You’ve already met some of these people—you get it. They just don’t miss a chance to talk about themselves or all the great things they do with the family money they inherited. I fucking hate it—I don’t know why my money isn’t enough.”
Laura raised an eyebrow even though he was echoing her own thoughts. “I’ll remind you that you’re the one who chose this activity. I wanted to drink wine, get a pedicure in your hotel spa and watch Christmas movies.”
Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m not really a Christmas movie kind of guy. And if I have to go, it’s only fair that you go too since I’m giving you a place to stay. Plus, you were an excellent buffer yesterday so that I don’t have to speak to these people. Also, not for nothing, Laura, you should be networking, as well. They’re idiots
, but these are the people who have enough money to afford even your outrageously priced services.”
She laughed at his repeated posturing about her fees. It made her feel like they were friends again and she loved it. “I already got a few contacts,” she informed, her insides warming as she remembered him talking up her lobby design at the party last night. He couldn’t help himself from looking after her. “And don’t worry, I will continue to be the best buffer you’ve ever seen,” she promised.
The elevator door dinged open and Will gestured for her to precede him into it. A concession to the fact that it was a brunch event, a tailored black blazer and black button-down replaced Will’s usual leather jacket, but he didn’t look any more civilized than usual even with the expensive black cashmere overcoat on top of it.
Fate was a cruel, cruel player because while Laura would gladly sleep with Will and be adult about it the next day, she knew it would be a mistake. He hadn’t even wanted to be friends with her in the beginning so chances were slim that he’d ever want to be something more. In fact, she doubted that if she hadn’t shown up in his hotel practically homeless that she ever would have heard from him again. And the idea of going from his best friend to being one of his transient women literally chilled her to the bone.
So they couldn’t sleep together.
And it was fine.
She’d maybe just need to push a dresser in front of her door or something to keep from sneaking to his room in the middle of the night. Or something larger like a piano. Or the bed. Probably all of the above would just barely work.
When the elevator doors opened into a garage, he led her to the black town car that was waiting and held out a hand to help her in. She would have appreciated the polite gesture, too, if even the touch of his leather-gloved hand wasn’t fraught with anticipation. She reluctantly took it, but she could still feel the strength in his thick fingers, the wide palm of his hand—all of it Will Walker, her very own former hero who’d grown up to look like an actor who played one on television and who just happened to kiss like a god.
She let go of his hand too quickly and bounced into the back seat rather inelegantly.
Will met her eyes, his gaze loaded. “This is going to be a long day, isn’t it?”
Laura just sighed, not exactly sure it was good to acknowledge their sexual attraction so openly, but feeling comfortable because it was Will. “Yep, pretty much.”
“Well, here we go then, Sugar Plum Fairy,” he said as the car lurched from the curb, “let’s get this over with so I can get back to my liquor cabinet.”
Arriving at the brunch, they picked their way through the crowd in the Four Seasons, a hotel that was known for its traditional elegance. Marble columns extended from floor to towering ceiling while gold embellishments gleamed from the walls and massive crimson poinsettias the size of small trees graced every surface. He led them back to The Garden restaurant where the live trees that grew straight up through the floor from the ground were decorated with twinkle lights and glittering white ornaments. Heavy crystal vases as tall as toddlers with abundant white-and-red roses blooming out from the top in overflowing sprays anchored each round table. All of it was old New York City with a touch of the new, which was the thing that defined New York in the first place. The bones might stay the same, but the rest of the city was moving forward at light speed.
The brunch was still a crush even with the record-breaking snowfall from yesterday. Will went into the fray first, in command of himself but not stopping to talk to anyone even though several people called his name.
When he finally stopped at the bar, he ordered a beer for himself while she ordered one of their featured holiday cocktails after the bartender rattled off a litany of complicated ingredients. Will met her eyes, his expression sardonic at the lengthy and arguably pretentious drink description. She loved it, though, and just as she was about to ask the bartender for the recipe so she could make it for her family when she was finally able to escape the city, Will complained, “This is already awful.”
She shot him a glance as she sipped the delicious minty concoction. “Uh-huh.”
Will moved her aside as a large rolling cart with an ice sculpture of a Christmas tree came up behind her and nearly clipped her in the legs.
“Aren’t you having just so much fun?” he mocked in a high voice. “Maybe next we’ll be accosted by a group of Wall Street guys trying to sell me Bitcoin. Though it would still be better than the ice skating you originally suggested.”
She couldn’t help it, she laughed, shaking her head at his nonsense. Being around people really rattled him, but she always knew the real source of the problem was that they were both on edge.
“I think we should have given ice skating a chance,” she said. “You seem to hate socializing so much that I can’t imagine you liking anything less than this.”
“Right.”
“What?” she pressed. “We never got to do something like ice skating when we were kids.”
“Thank god,” he muttered, taking a long swig of his beer.
She grinned at his bad attitude. “For all you know, you might have even found a new hobby.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I can really see myself diving into ice culture.”
“You keep this up,” she laughed, “and I might start snorting in front of all these fancy people.”
Will grinned and held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s go find our seats and pray for it to be over.”
“Is there a scenario in which I can leave you here and go home instead?” After all, the overarching point was to be away from each other.
Raising an eyebrow, Will regarded her. “The Laura Harris I knew was never a quitter.”
Laura started at the use of her old last name, the one she’d used for most of her life before her final foster parents had legally adopted her. She remembered the reckless girl she’d been before she had anything to lose, how brave she’d had to be because there’d been no other choice. The reminder had her wanting to be a good friend to Will and stay to make sure he had a good time.
She took a step forward to grab his outstretched hand and the rough, bare skin had her sucking in a breath. Dusty old visions of him sprang into her mind, shirtless in the summer when they’d sneaked into the public pool, but he’d been scrawnier then, obviously. His warmth against her was heady, the breadth of his shoulders making her feel swallowed up in his protection somehow. The thoughts were probably just left-over hero worship, but it felt so good to be near him, to feel him again.
“You want another round?” he asked, giving her hand a slow squeeze before letting it go, trailing his fingers and then his thumb slowly over her bare palm and down her middle finger. “Or have you had too much to drink already? You’re looking a little flushed.”
Shaken, her body fully awake, instead of answering she simply walked toward table three, which was the number the registrant at the entrance had given them, sat down, and struck up a conversation with the first person she saw. Anyone was better than talking to and touching Will.
“As always, taunting you worked wonders,” Will observed, joining her at the table after she’d finished a conversation with a handsome but boring tech investor.
Her head swiveled over to him and she asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t remember anything about back then, do you? I could get you to do anything as long as I made you think you couldn’t do it.”
She stared at him, snippets of memories coming back to her, of him challenging her, but then being her biggest cheerleader. He’d been a really lovely friend all around but maybe she had blocked a lot of that time out for self-preservation. She was surprised to hear that he hadn’t locked it away as well, considering he wasn’t exactly sharing personal information right and left.
“I remember,” she finally said, watching him fold
into the seat beside her, his proximity sending SOS alerts to all her erogenous zones and knocking her out of the past. “It’s just hard to really go back there.”
Will nodded in understanding. “You were the best part of it, though.”
Her drink paused halfway to her lips, she met his eyes. “You too.”
In that moment, she couldn’t have pulled her eyes away from his for all the money in the world. It felt like they were the only two people in the restaurant despite the urbane roar of the guests echoing off the marble walls.
“I wanted you so much back then,” he murmured, his fingers finding a strand of her hair as he draped his arm on the back of her chair.
Ripples of pleasure drifted up from her tingling feet to her damp palms. “I didn’t know.”
A corner of his mouth quirked. “Yeah, you did,” he murmured. “Just like you know now.”
“I thought we were here to have a nice brunch,” she replied gamely, trying to power through it. “You know, to eat omelettes with hydroponic veggies and imported French cheese and stuff.” God, she was hopeless. Her desire was eradicating all her common sense.
The universe was on her side because the meal was served then. Waiters in tuxes and white gloves appeared with a parade of artfully decorated small plates. To further ignore Will’s attempts to lure her into ill-conceived flirting, she made small talk with her neighbor, a friendly middle-aged man who seemed almost as uncomfortable and out of place as she felt.
Meanwhile, Will’s hand found her knee, her back, her inner thigh until she was slowly sinking into a sea of desire and probably would have stripped on the table in front of society’s best for him if he’d asked, she was so mindless.
“I know what you’re doing,” he murmured darkly in her ear after fifteen minutes of her studiously ignoring his maddening “accidental” touches.
She swatted him away and heard his deep chuckle as she resumed her conversation with her tablemate. Will could wait all day because they just couldn’t do what he wanted. No matter how desperately she wanted to. She needed him in her life too much, never wanted to let him go again, and she just couldn’t risk all that for sex. What was sure to be mind-blowing sex aside, it still wasn’t worth it.
Sinfully Yours Page 5
