Not that that’s a rarity at the moment. Currently, she’s all I think about.
Seeing her last night with the prick she’s dating drove me insane. It took everything in me not to reach over and strangle the guy.
Knowing he gets to put his hands on her…
I clench my fists at the thought.
Seriously though, what does she see in the guy? Sure, he’s a doctor, but he’s boring as hell.
I was just glad to be seated away from him, so I didn’t have to make conversation with the tool. Though it was fun to watch Carrick being tortured from having to listen to him.
That’s what he gets for being complicit in setting me up with Kat.
Jesus, that woman was like an octopus. Her hands were everywhere.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind having my junk felt up but not in full view of everyone—especially not when the one woman I do actually want to have her hand on my cock is sitting next to me.
After last night, if it hadn’t been clear to me before, then it was abundantly clear to me then that I want to have sex with India.
Repeatedly.
I just need to figure out how to make that happen and how to make Dan the dickhead, disappear.
God, I can’t believe she’s dating that boring asshole. I don’t care that he’s a doctor, and he saves lives. She deserves better than him.
You?
No. She deserves better than me, but I’m a selfish bastard, and when I want something, I take it.
I push open the door to the Tube station, and I walk straight into India—literally.
“Oops. Sorry,” she says.
She has her eyes down, hand searching in her bag. When she lifts her eyes to me, I see the surprise flicker through them.
Then, she smiles widely. “Leandro.”
My eyes quickly graze over her body. She’s dressed down in skinny jeans and a T-shirt with a fitted black leather jacket. It makes her look younger.
And my cock instantly stands to attention.
I step a little closer, getting into her space. “India. Last night, and now, this morning. If I didn’t know better, I would think the universe is trying to put us together.”
Her eyes flicker nervously to the side. Following her gaze, I see a boy standing beside her, curiously looking at me.
I immediately know it’s her son. He has the exact same blue eyes as her.
She clears her throat, in that way she does when she’s uncomfortable. It’s surprising how quickly I’ve become accustomed to her little ways.
“Leandro, this is my son, Jett.” She takes a step away from me, revealing more of him.
I remember her saying last night that he’s twelve. This kid is tall for his age. I’m six foot, and he’s only about half a foot shorter than me.
His head tilts to the side, his eyes sparking with excitement.
“You’re Leandro Silva.” He sounds flabbergasted.
She said he’s a big Formula 1 fan.
“I am.” I smile.
“Holy crap!” He flicks his eyes to India. “You know Leandro Silva? How do you know Leandro Silva? And why didn’t you tell me that you know Leandro Silva?” The kid’s voice is raising a decibel higher. He might be tall, but his voice hasn’t broken yet, and his high pitch is raising some attention.
I pull the ball cap I’m wearing down lower over my eyes. I don’t mind a little attention, but right now, I don’t want people intruding while I have her here.
“Jett, please don’t say crap. And could you lower your voice a little? People are starting to stare.” India laughs softly.
His eyes scan quickly around. “Sorry.” His eyes come back to me. “I’m just a huge fan. Huge.” He emphasizes with his hands.
“It’s okay.” I smile at him again.
I glance back to India. She’s chewing on her lip, looking a little more than disconcerted.
Yes, it turns me on. Her lip-chewing and nervousness are doing it for me. But then again, pretty much everything she does turns me on.
We’re in this awkward pause where none of us knows quite exactly what to say. Jett is staring at me in awe, and his mouth keeps opening and closing like he has a hundred questions to ask but no clue where to start.
I decide to fill the gap.
“Did you take the Tube?” That is clearly the dumbest thing I could ask, considering they were exiting the station.
Smooth, Silva, real smooth.
A smile spreads onto India’s face. “My car is in the garage,” she tells me. “So, we’re slaves to public transport.”
Another awkward pause.
Putting her hand on Jett’s arm, she says, “Well, we should get going—”
“No!” Jett says loudly. His face instantly goes bright red. “I mean, we’re going for coffee. Well, I’m having hot chocolate ’cause I’m clearly too young for coffee. But do you want to come with us and have coffee? Or tea? Hot chocolate? Whatever you drink really…” He trails off, looking uncomfortable.
Chuckling, I part my lips to speak, but I don’t get a chance.
“I’m sure Leandro has better things to do than have coffee with us, Jett.”
Do I?
I glance at her. There’s something in her eyes that I can’t quite discern, but it looks an awful lot like uncertainty.
I look back to Jett and smile. “Actually, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now.”
Okay, I’m turning the charm on, but I do actually mean that. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now than with her. And meeting her kid is an added bonus.
I slide my eyes back to India, locking them with hers. “I’d love to have coffee with you.”
A smile warms her eyes.
“We were just going to Starbucks. Is that okay with you?”
Anywhere with you, is okay with me. “Perfect.”
I walk with them toward Starbucks. India begins walking in front of us while Jett is talking incessantly to me about my past races. I listen to him talk, answer his questions, and force myself not to stare at India’s magnificent ass in those tight jeans. Seems like it’d be disrespectful to ogle her in front of her kid.
Stepping in front when we reach Starbucks, I open the door for her.
“Thanks.” She doesn’t meet my eyes when she speaks, but I see the flush on her face.
Jett walks through, still talking to me about racing, and I follow him in.
“You two take a seat. I’ll go get the drinks,” I tell them. “Hot chocolate for you, Jett?” I check. “And a black coffee for you, India?”
“You know how my mum takes her coffee?” Jett’s voice punches through the air.
And I see the smile on India’s face freeze.
When I look at Jett, I see he’s got a big-ass grin on his face.
Kid is quick.
But I’m quicker.
“I brought her coffee once. It stuck with me. I have a great memory.” I tap a finger to my head. “You want anything to go with that hot chocolate?”
Glancing past me at the food on display, he says, “A blueberry muffin would be great, please.”
“We’ll go find somewhere to sit,” India says, still looking a little flustered.
I join the small queue, watching when they take a seat at the back of the coffee shop.
I place the order, getting myself a black coffee, and try to ignore the stare from the server, hoping she doesn’t recognize me.
I manage to get my order without issue, and I carry everything over to the table. Putting the tray down, I hand Jett his drink and muffin.
“Thanks,” he mumbles. Instantly, he takes a bite of muffin.
“Thank you.” India smiles at me as I put her coffee on the table in front of her.
She wraps her hands around the cup, like she needs the warmth.
“So, Mum says she met you at dinner last night. You were there with a patient of hers who is a friend of yours.”
I slide my eyes to India before looking back
to Jett. I nod and say, “I was.”
“Is it another Formula One driver?”
“Jett!” she chastises lightly in only that way a mother can.
I laugh at his directness.
“Stop prying,” she says to him.
“You don’t ask, you don’t find out.” He shrugs, taking another bite of his muffin.
“Jett has got a point,” I say, which earns me a frown from India, causing me to chuckle. “And it would be wrong of me to talk about it as it’s my friend’s private business,” I tell Jett. “But to answer your question, no, she is not a driver.”
“She? Someone you’re dating then?”
“Jett!” India’s voice is louder now, and she’s red in the face.
It makes me laugh again. I love to see her flustered.
“I’m so sorry,” India says to me. “He’s not usually this nosy.”
“Yes, I am,” Jett replies.
India shoots a look at him.
I’m still laughing.
I like this kid.
“No, I’m not dating her. She’s married to my friend,” I answer.
“And that’s enough of those questions,” India cuts him off when he opens his mouth again.
“Fine,” he huffs, turning in his seat to look at her. “But I have to ask because you don’t tell me anything—like the fact that you met Leandro Silva last night.”
“I’ve hardly had the chance,” she responds, sounding exasperated. “You were sleeping when I got home.”
“You couldn’t have told me at breakfast?”
I’m watching them with fascination. India is always so calm and in control in our sessions, but right now, she’s at the mercy of her twelve-year-old kid, who’s close to breaking her in front of my eyes.
I’m tempted to ask him his secret on how to do it.
“Okay!” She throws her hands up in the air. “Fine. I’m sorry, Jett. I could have told you this morning.”
“Notice that she said could, not should,” he says to me, grinning.
He clearly loves winding her up.
India makes a frustrated sound before picking up her coffee, and she blows on it, like she always does before taking a sip.
“I’m just teasing, Mum.” He nudges her shoulder with his.
“You were driving me nuts is what you were doing.” She chuckles good-naturedly.
“So”—Jett turns his full attention back to me—“you bought Mum coffee at dinner?”
“What?”
“You met at dinner last night, but you said you knew how she took her coffee ’cause you’d gotten it once for her.”
Shit.
This kid is way too observant. He doesn’t miss a trick. I’d be impressed—if it wasn’t me he was currently putting on the spot.
“After dinner,” India chimes in. “There was no coffee at the restaurant, so we all went to a coffee shop, and Leandro bought my coffee.”
“Why didn’t Dr. Dull get you the coffee?”
I almost choke on my own coffee. Dr. Dull? I knew I liked this kid.
“Jett! I really wish you wouldn’t call him that. I swear to God, Kit…” she mutters.
Who’s Kit?
Jett must read my mind because he says, “Kit’s my uncle, Mum’s twin brother. He calls Dan, Dr. Dull, and Mum hates it.”
“I can see why.”
And I mean her brother naming Dan, Dr. Dull. It couldn’t be more fitting.
I think I’m going to like her brother as well.
India’s eyes hit mine, her brows rising, and I don’t elaborate on my meaning of what I just said.
“So, you like racing?” I say to Jett, turning my attention to him.
“I love it.”
“Just Formula One or any kind of racing?”
“Formula One mainly, but I like karting, too.”
“Have you ever been to the Prix?”
“No.” He gives a sad shake of his head. “Mum says the tickets are too expensive.”
“They are too expensive.” I smile lightly, sliding my eyes to hers, and I catch her looking at me with a weird expression on her face.
“Well, I can get you tickets to the Prix at Silverstone—”
“Yes!” He excitedly bangs his hands on the table.
“But only if it’s okay with your mother.”
Turning to India, he gives her an expectant look.
She lets out a breath. “It’s okay with me.” She raises her hands in defeat, but she has a smile on her face.
I like seeing her smile, and making her son happy has to score me some brownie points. Then, an idea comes to me.
“I was just thinking…as the Prix is a long ways off—and again, only as long as your mom is okay with it—I’m attending a Karting Championship tomorrow. I have to present an award, a favor for a friend. You’re both more than welcome to come along.”
“Are you serious?” Jett’s eyes nearly bug out of his head.
“I’m serious.” I smile.
“Mum?” He gives her another expectant look.
Looking at me, she shakes her head, but I know she’s not mad as a smile teases her lips.
“Tomorrow where?” she asks me.
“Shenington Airfield in Banbury. About an hour’s drive away.”
“Can we go? Please! Please!” Jett pleads, his hands pressed together in front of him.
She stares at him for a long moment. I can see her mind working.
“I don’t know, honey. I don’t have my car, and Kit’s working tomorrow, so I can’t borrow his—”
“You don’t need your car. I’ll take you both.”
“You’re driving there?” she asks, her voice careful.
Always the therapist.
“I have a driver taking me. I’m rich and lazy.” I give a laugh, but it sounds weak even to my own ears.
Of course she knows why I’m not driving, but I don’t want to look lame in front of her son.
But then, he’s a Formula 1 fan, so he’s probably heard stories about me.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t drive myself around either,” Jett says, leaning back in his chair. “I’d have a chauffeur and save my driving for the tracks.”
He’s either oblivious or a good kid.
Going by who his mother is, I’m going to go with good kid.
Sitting forward, he wraps his arm around her shoulders. “So, can we go, Mum? Please…”
She looks at me, and I shrug my shoulders, smiling. Leaning back in my chair, I grab my coffee and take a sip.
Releasing her, he says, “You have to say yes as this will be the biggest thing to ever happen to me in my life. And do you know how many levels of cool I’ll climb at school if I say I spent the day with Leandro Silva?”
“Are you sure it’ll be no trouble?” India asks me.
A day spent with you?
“No trouble at all.”
“So, is that a yes?” Jett checks with India.
“It’s a yes.”
“Yes!” He fist-bumps the air before planting a kiss on India’s cheek.
Then, he’s on his phone, probably texting his friends or updating his Facebook status.
I glance at India and find her already watching me.
Thank you, she mouths to me.
It gives me this warm feeling in my chest, like it’s something secret she’s giving just to me.
You’re welcome, I mouth back.
THIS IS A BAD IDEA.
I really shouldn’t be here, but it’s not like I could say no when Leandro Silva, one of Jett’s heroes, was there, offering him tickets to go watch a karting championship race. Jett’s face was all lit up, and I would be Devil Mother if I’d said no, but I would be Mother of the Year if I said yes. Who could turn down the chance to be Mother of the Year, right?
And it’s not like I could explain to Jett that it would be unethical of me to take the tickets and spend the day with Leandro because he’s my patient.
But then, technically
, I didn’t take the tickets. Jett did. Leandro gave them to him, and Jett gave the spare ticket to me.
So, that’s my rationalization on the situation, and I’m sticking with it.
How I ended up in the back of the car with Leandro and Jett in the front with the driver and with control of the stereo though is beyond me.
But I really need to put my work head on because Leandro is being even more charming than usual, and he looks so bloody hot in his jeans and black shirt. And those depthless eyes of his every time they meet with mine…I swear, they are sucking me in. And his accent…sweet baby Jesus, his accent. I feel the need to cross my legs every time he speaks in general, but sitting here with him, isolated in the back of this car because Jett put up the bloody privacy glass, without my work head on…it’s not good.
And so very good.
I need to say something to fill the quiet tension.
“Thank you for inviting Jett today,” I say. It was the only thing I could think of to say.
“You already said that. Five minutes ago. And when I first picked you up.”
“Did I?”
I make the mistake of looking at him.
Fly trapped in web.
“You did.” His voice is soft and alluring.
I have to force myself to look away. I fix my gaze on the scenery outside my window.
“India, are you okay? You seem nervous.”
My eyes swing back to him. “Nervous? I’m not nervous.” My voice comes out high-pitched and saying, I’m totally nervous.
“No?” He tilts his head to the side, and some of those soft black strands fall into his eyes.
My fingers itch to brush them away. Maybe run into his hair and feel it, see if it’s as soft as I think it will be.
I’m his therapist. And I’m dating Dan.
I sit on my hands. “Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous.”
“Why?” He moistens his lips with his tongue.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he did that to torture me.
Finding my mouth dry, I lick my own lips for moisture. “Because…I’m your therapist.” I lower my voice to a whisper even though I know Jett can’t hear me up front.
“And?”
“And…” I frown. “It’s unethical of me to be socializing with you.”
“It’s unethical of you to spend time with me?”
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