Filthy Lies Read online

  The handover was quick and efficient, as he hustled me into the waiting helicopter.

  "Thanks, man, for taking care of my sister," Lucas shouted over the noise.

  "I was glad to do it," James fired back, as he helped get me strapped in and situated with the headset. I couldn't be sure, but I caught a vibe of tension between the two of them. James was close with Caleb, but I didn't recall him ever spending time with Lucas or Wyatt, so maybe they just didn't have enough history together. Our families had known each other for over two decades, but that didn't mean each one of us were close in the way of friendships.

  Thank you, I mouthed to James silently as he finished with the straps.

  I read his lips when he replied, "I'll see you Saturday." The added wink was just for me as he ignored Lucas altogether.

  Then he stepped down and shut the door behind him. I watched as he headed away to stand in the safe zone, legs planted to brace himself against the windstorm about to blast him as Lucas brought the rotors roaring back to life.

  Lucas busied himself with takeoff, and I stared out the window at James waiting for us to leave.

  Our eyes met in spite of the distance between us, and I felt our connection—could still taste the cinnamon-flavored whiskey of his kiss on my tongue. I imagined he might be thinking similar thoughts as the helicopter began to rise, increasing the distance between us as the seconds passed.

  James nodded at me deliberately, still holding me captive even as I drifted into the skies over Boston, his eyes telling me so much more than words ever could. "Oh, I won't change my mind, Winter. This is all about you and what you want."

  Oh, I want you, James Blakney. Forever. But I need you to want it for yourself too. Because I love you.

  "Thanks for letting me pick you up tonight instead of tomorrow morning. I'll get Willow and Roger in the morning, and it won't take me as long," Lucas said after we had gained altitude.

  "Sure. I'll definitely appreciate it in the morning more than I do right now—when I'm sleeping and you're flying out to Providence to get them," I teased.

  "How is your hand? Are you in pain?"

  "Healing, and sometimes, yes. This is why I have excellent drugs prescribed by the fine doctors at Mass Gen, but it's only been twenty-four hours since I sliced it, so I'm feeling pretty good considering. I'm just really exhausted." I worked through the yawn that came on the instant I admitted my tiredness. The powers of suggestion to the mind were truly a thing.

  "Good thing your neighbor was home instead of out last night."

  "Umm, yeah. James helped me through everything. I don't know how I'd have managed without him." I thought it was strange that Lucas didn't sound grateful for what James had done for me last night. Again, there was some sort of negative vibe coming off my brother toward James.

  "So you went to Thanksgiving with his family today?"

  I nodded ruefully. "The full Judge Blakney treatment was my special treat today," I said with as much sarcasm as I could manage through the headset.

  "I've heard the judge is quite the beast."

  "Quite," I answered flippantly. "I really can't figure out how that odious man ended up with such a lovely wife and children, because he is an asshole."

  Lucas laughed at my less-than happy recollection of dinner with the Blakneys. "How is Victoria?" he asked carefully.

  "She asked me to tell you hi."

  "She did?"

  "Mm-hmm."

  My brother wasn't a cold person. Circumstances had changed the façade he presented to the world to make him appear that way, though. Not all the time, but sometimes. There was history I knew nothing about, because he dropped the subject of Victoria Blakney flat dead and focused on piloting his helicopter instead.

  Which was now taking us over the dark waters of Massachusetts Bay toward Blackstone Island. Made me wonder if there were dark waters between Lucas and Victoria. Two of my favorite people, so it bothered me to think there might be any kind of grief there. Did James know what was up with his little sister and my big brother? Time would only tell.

  I fell asleep to the sounds of the ocean waves melding with the coastline where my brother's house perched just above it. Well, actually the sound of the ocean plus the memory of that last kiss from James before he let me go. The combination of the two must have been good medicine for me, because I woke up feeling wonderful and—for lack of a better word—hopeful.

  Losing my father seven months ago had been devastating, and we all missed him terribly still, but we had known death would eventually claim him long before it finally did. The grieving had been present then. Coming out of the long period of illness that led to his passing went back nearly two years. So while it was hard being without him for holidays, I felt a peace within myself for the first time since he'd become sick. Dad was in a better place where he didn't suffer the pain of his cancer anymore, and I looked forward to celebrating him in memory now rather than focusing solely on the grief of being without him.

  The opportunity to discuss with him my idea for founding a charitable organization would have been wonderful. Dad would've wanted every detail about my plans, and his interrogation would have been painfully—but helpfully—relentless. As a parent, he made sure we worked hard at whatever it was we wanted. No slackers allowed in this family he always said. We were taught to make goals and then to work toward achieving them. Money can be lost far more easily than it can ever be earned was another of his mantras, so I guess you could say we'd all been taught from birth that we needed to know where we were going—before it was ever possible to get there.

  I felt like I finally knew where I wanted to go.

  How fast I got there would depend on what I decided to do about the offer from James. Could I marry him to get access to my money? My heart wanted to, but I didn't know if my conscience could suffer through the guilt of doing something so selfish.

  "What has you smiling this early in the morning?" Caleb asked wearily as he headed for the espresso machine, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed in a rumpled T-shirt and sweats. "I'm just the Starbucks stand-in for Brooke, because after I take her this coffee, I fully intend to go back to sleep."

  The sight of my brother half-awake and up to get coffee for his beloved made me chuckle.

  "Don't laugh," he grumbled.

  "The two of you are adorable together. I'm just enjoying being witness to your transformation is all. Plus, you probably need some extra hours after all that mattress-dancing you two did last night. The ocean only drowns out so much."

  He swung his head around and opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it, and perhaps even blushed a little.

  "Kidding," I said, instantly feeling guilty for messing with him. "I was so exhausted, I heard nothing of your bedroom rodeo last night. I was busy sleep—"

  "Going back to bed now, Winter," he said, stalking out of the kitchen, Brooke's espresso cradled carefully in his hands like it was precious cargo.

  The simple encounter with my brother proved beyond a shadow of a doubt just how much he was in love with his Brooke. I sighed happily for the both of them and went back to prepping the turkey we'd eat later today.

  The surgical gloves kept my incision from being exposed to any bacteria and kept it dry. So far it felt pretty normal other than a little achy in the vicinity of the cut, and I was grateful that it didn't appear I'd damaged anything permanently, like a nerve or tendon. It could have been so much worse.

  Thank you, James Blakney.

  As soon as the turkey was set in the oven, I headed to my room for a shower. I heard my phone chirp with a text notification the second I opened the door and stepped inside.

  James: Someone is in very big trouble for not texting me last night.

  Winter: OMG! I am so sorry. I was just so tired I forgot.

  James: Glad u r safe but still in so much trouble.

  Sweet Christ, it was hot when he turned all bossy and demanding with me. My hands shook as I decided how to reply.r />
  Winter: Oh really?

  James: Oh yes, really.

  Winter: Eeep! Is it bad I just wanted to see what would happen?

  James: I guess u find out on Saturday night at the ball sweetheart.

  Winter:

  I waited a few minutes for another text from him but got nothing.

  I had my shower and proceeded to prepare for the holiday with my family. I checked messages more than once over the course of the day and into the evening, but nothing more came from him.

  James had gone silent.

  And I was more confused than ever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  JAMES

  The last time I attended The Autumn Ball was five years ago. I remember the dress Winter wore. It was purple with silvery sparkles that had moved when we danced together. I also remembered thinking that someday soon she'd be snapped up by one lucky motherfucker, who by the grace of God, had somehow managed to make her fall in love with him. I'd hate the bastard on sight and would do a thorough check on him to make sure he deserved her, which of course, he wouldn't. That year was also the last time Leah and I were together at a formal function before our wedding in early December…just one week later. Funny how the mind chose what to remember and what to forget. Winter looked so radiant in her gorgeous dress, yet I had no earthly idea what Leah—the woman I was about to marry—had worn that night.

  Since that time, I'd cared nothing for formal events. Until tonight that was. I'd asked Winter to go with me shortly after my father's summons to his office, because I couldn't stand the thought of her being anyone else's date, regardless of whether we attended as friends or as something more. The territorial feelings toward her had started the second my father opened his big mouth. The change was swift, and it didn't take long for me to make the decision that this year I'd be on the guest list.

  Right now, there was a special someone smelling of beautiful woman beside me in the back of a limo. And she was the only reason for my sudden interest in putting on a tux and going to a thing where I'd have dinner and conversation with people I'd probably avoid at all costs the rest of the time.

  I told my driver, Enzo, to take the scenic route and raised the partition to give me the privacy I'd been craving since I'd put Winter on that helicopter. Having her with me for those twenty-four hours had only made me want her more than I had before. Prior to that, I hadn't experienced what it was like to kiss her senseless to know what I'd been missing.

  Fuck. I had definitely been missing out.

  It was said that knowledge was power, but it could also be torture when you knew enough to realize you might break apart if the object of your desires was kept perpetually out of reach. But tonight I was lucky, because my desire was within reach. Dressed in a low-cut black gown that set off her tits in a mouthwatering display had me practically drooling, but I was enjoying the torture. I wanted nothing more than to tear the designer silk away and pleasure her into oblivion right here, right now in this limo.

  But I couldn't do that no matter how obsessed I was with making her come again.

  She held herself stiffly, giving off a vibe meant to keep me at distance. I wasn't sure why but was in no great hurry to change her mind about it.

  Yet.

  I could practice patience when needed, and right now I sensed that my lovely obsession wouldn't tolerate being pushed very far. Best to keep things neutral until I had a better read on her mood. And preferably when I had her to myself for hours not minutes. Then, she'd give me her all.

  Reading people was something I'd learned from being a lawyer. Knowing if a client was lying or telling the truth came in very handy in deciding if I wanted to represent them or not. Winter was so much more important to me than a potential client, though, and I didn't want to fuck things up any more than I had already. I'd purposefully kept my distance since Thanksgiving, because I'd wanted to give her a solid few days to really think about what she wanted to do…with us. If she wanted to explore the idea of an us at all.

  She wants me. She loves me. She wants to be with me. I needed to keep believing, because I had plenty of doubts too.

  "Are those the gloves my mother wanted you to have?" The need to touch her nearly overpowered me, so I took her hand firmly into mine. A hand encased in dark pink silk, embellished with flowers made of the same, and covered from the tips of her fingers all the way to well past her elbow. Fucking sexy.

  My inner fantasy decided it wanted another date with her wearing those gloves and not a scrap of anything else—except for the shoes. She could keep on the heels that matched the gloves.

  Annnnd looked sexy as fuck strapped around her ankles with little bowties at the toes. They'd look even better draped over my shoulders.

  "Yes." Her eyes burned green fire at me for an instant before flicking down to study the gloves. "They really are one of a kind: the dark pink color—the silk flowers—the opera length. Your mom gave them to me, saying she would never wear them, and that they were far too beautiful to sit in a box wrapped in tissue." She lifted her eyes back to meet mine. "I would say I have to agree with her."

  "Beautiful gloves on beautiful hands." I drew her hand to my lips and kissed the back of it, my lips regrettably touching silk instead of skin. "To go with a beautiful dress…worn by a very beautiful woman."

  "What are you doing?" she asked on a soft breath, her eyes moving incrementally as she studied me.

  "Just paying you a compliment that you very much deserve. I am a lucky man tonight."

  "Anything else you'd like to tell me before we get in there and start pretending, James?"

  "Nothing other than how happy I am to be taking you to the ball tonight. No pretending on my part."

  She closed her eyes just a fraction and…shivered? It looked like she had.

  But I didn't have a chance to ask her, because Enzo pulled up to the security checkpoint and gave our names to the attendant. "James Blakney and Winter Blackstone."

  I squeezed her hand and sent her a smile. "It's showtime, sweetheart."

  Winter's mood didn't improve as the evening progressed. She seemed to enjoy the company of her friends and family, but whenever I got too close, she grew stiff and quiet. Apparently, someone else caught on to her mood as well.

  "The happy couple might try looking a bit…happier, don't you think?" my father asked as he strolled up with a practiced bow for Winter, and what appeared to be an affectionate slap to my shoulder. Both gestures were an act of a narcissistic asshole.

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," I replied before turning to Winter and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Sweetheart, do you have any reason to be unhappy tonight?"

  She ignored my father completely and stared at me for a moment before shaking her head slowly back and forth.

  Silently simmering.

  Okay, so Winter was definitely not happy with me, my father, this whole public farce apparently, but she wouldn't say so. No, she'd been trained at the same charm school we'd all had to suffer through as children. Never let them know how you really feel. Smile, and put on a front that everything's wonderful, even when life is shit.

  I needed to get her alone, somewhere quiet where we could talk, and I could reassure her that she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do.

  "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I see a friend I want to say hello to." She turned heel and left us both watching the back of her as she went, the skirt of her black gown swaying gracefully with each step of her sexy pink shoes. I could almost see the anger radiating off her in waves.

  Ouch.

  "Trouble in paradise so soon?" He raised a brow as if entitled to the information, making my blood boil.

  "You need to back the fuck off if you want this to happen. I already told you her family doesn't know about us yet."

  "Why don't they know? What are you waiting for? Get this situation nailed down and settled, or I'll settle it for you." Do your job and get her pregnant. It shouldn't be this hard,
son." He got a little gleam in his eye and laughed. "But maybe that's the problem for you. Your cock's not hard enough to get the job done. Do you need some help from another cock perhaps?" he scoffed, finding humor in his own fucking joke.

  I had to choke out my next words because all I wanted was to get away from him. "Are you even human, because sometimes I wonder."

  "Are you even my son, because sometimes I wonder. Be a man and fuck your baby into that Blackstone bitch and be done with it." He narrowed his eyes at me like a snake about to strike. "My God, the senate announcement is in less than two months."

  "You know, Dad, if you want to fool the voters into thinking you're a loving family man, you're gonna need to work on your game and have an ounce of patience. Winter is already mine and you'll stay the fuck away from her."

  I slapped him hard on the back in a fake show of affection before leaving him standing alone. I did it to let him know he wouldn't have an easy time pushing me around. And most certainly not Winter, either. To anyone who witnessed our exchange, it probably looked typically normal. Just a father and a son having a conversation, happy to be in each other's company.

  If they only knew…

  But it had felt so good. The surprised look on his face was worth any retribution I'd just earned for myself down the road, because my father had a memory like a steel trap. He forgot nothing. Still wouldn't trade it, even though I knew it would come back to haunt me at some point.

  I needed to find Winter and see if I could repair whatever the damage between us was.

  Annnnd then Jan Thorndike appeared. Fuck.