The Bluff (Graham Brothers, #2)(104)

He rubs a hand over his jaw. “Capital punishment, eh?”

I nod.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. I’ll have to plead my case before the court for not using a bookmark. Yes, I read it. Not saying I’ve got a new favorite genre or anything, but I … like romance.”

“Romance and cats. Who knew?”

We seem to have come to a conversational impasse. Or one of those silences I heard occurs every seven minutes. For now, we stand here. Not speaking. Not moving. Just staring like it’s our sole purpose in life.

Finally, I cross my arms and raise a brow. I’m trying to keep the semblance of cool. Call me a head of iceberg lettuce fresh from the crisper. A mountain stream after winter snow melts. Liquid nitrogen.

“About that apology … need some pointers on how to get started?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

James takes several steps forward, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at the way the Orange Cyclops saunters along next to him. They have matching strides and wear the same intense expression. It is … a-freaking-dorable. I’ve seen dogs that resemble their owners—Lindy wrote a whole article on that once—but I’ve never seen a cat match the attitude of its owner.

James stops a few feet in front of me. The cat stops next to him.

“What’s funny?” he demands.

Apparently, I’m not hiding my amusement over his new feline twin well enough. I take off my glasses and buff the lenses on my shirt, giving me a brief reprieve from seeing them in focus.

“Nothing. Just preparing for this stellar apology.”

“Winnie,” James growls.

I hold up both hands. “Don’t let me stop you.”

He sighs. “Now there’s too much buildup. It’s going to be disappointing.”

“Trust me. Nothing about any of this”—I wave a hand over his body, the cat, all of it—“could possibly disappoint me. Go, James.”

“Winnie, I am so sorry. Truly.” His words are agonized, and even if they weren’t, his eyes show his sincerity.

Still…

“For?”

James huffs out a breath. “Even when I’m trying to apologize, you’re giving me a hard time.”

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

James takes another step forward, until we’re just shy of touching. The heat of his body does wild things to mine, but I manage to keep still. I’m not just maintaining a poker face here. I’ve got full-on poker body.

James clears his throat. “I don’t want you to stop. I want to go head to head or toe to toe—”

“Or mouth to mouth?” I suggest.

James drops his gaze to my lips. “Especially that. I want to wake up every morning and kiss that smart mouth of yours. And I want to go to sleep the same way.”

My heart has decided to stop doing its job and is now beating erratically, making me feel short of breath. “What about the middle of the day?”

James’s nostrils flare, and he puts one hand on the garage beside my head, caging me in. “All. Day. Long.” His gaze trails from my eyes to my lips and right back up. “I want this, Winnie. This back-and-forth. This … thing we have. It’s life to me. It’s everything. I know I’m a lot to deal with on a good day. I’m not good at accepting help or working with others. I don’t have much practice being a partner. I’m so sorry for unleashing my stress on you. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t yours to take.”

There are so many smart retorts zinging through my mind, but I want to save them for later and, just for once, bask in this sincerity and the surprisingly tender moment.

“I forgive you, James. And I understand, at least, a little bit. I’m sorry for putting pressure on you. I got overeager and—”

“No.” James stops me with one firm word and a shake of his head.

“Okay, so now I can’t even apologize?”

“No. Not when you were trying to help me. You supported me in a way I’m not used to, even from my family. You aren’t allowed to apologize for loving me so well.”

I swallow. “Who said anything about love?”

James leans closer, his brown eyes darkening as his pupils dilate. “I did. I am. I love you, Winchester. Maybe you’re not ready to say it in words because this is fast, but I feel it.” James removes his hand from the wall and taps his chest, right over his heart. “I feel your love in all the things you’ve done for me.”

Okay, this is entirely too much. The cat. The proximity. The words—oh my gosh, who knew when James decided to use more than one-syllable words it would be so devastating?

“I know you just came out of a relationship,” James says.

Did I? Dale is hardly more than a foggy memory. A blip. A contrast to show me exactly how love really feels. I open my mouth to say this, but James is still going. And I’m not about to stop him, because who knows when I’ll get this again.

“We can go at your speed. I’ll be … as guarded as I need to be. As long as you know what’s waiting for you.”

“What’s waiting for me?” My voice is husky. I sound like I could do voice-overs for a young, sexy ingenue character. But who even cares? If James isn’t hiding, neither am I.