London Falling (Falling #2)(45)
I sat up, tears pooling as understanding dawned bright and clear as a new day. “Tripp Devereaux, I love you more than anyone. No man I’m dating or not dating is ever going to change that.” He gripped my hand and kissed my palm. “Truth!” I let one tear fall. He kissed it away from my cheek.
“Still doesn’t keep me from being afraid. What happens when you finally take that leap? Can you promise you’ll never leave me?”
Tripp’s biggest fear, live and in living color. He lost his whole family when he came out about being bisexual, not that his family was anything to brag about. His mother constantly abused him, mentally and physically, until the day he tried to take his own life. He also had a brother he left to drown in a life filled with sex and drugs. The guilt over leaving his brother in that house was a whole different ball of hell he constantly carried around.
It took all I had not to scream at him that I would never, was never, going to leave him. But I couldn’t say that. James said it to me and he left…forever. “We never know what our future will bring but I do know that wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, you will always be one of the most important people in my life.” I forced him to sit up and I crawled into his lap, hugging him. “You’re my family. No man can take that away from us. If he even tries, he’s not worth my time. Now that I promise you!”
We spent long moments just listening to one another breathe, calming the rapid beating of our hearts. Slowly, I tunneled my fingers through his hair.
“You need a trim. You want me to cut it today?” He nodded against my chest. I waited a couple more minutes until he took a deep breath. “You gonna continue to give Collier a hard time?”
The smile that lit his face was priceless. It spoke of everything I loved about my best friend. His boyish charm, his roguish features, his sad eyes. “Yes, yes I am. If he’s got my best girl on his radar, I’m going to rile him every chance I get.”
I slumped into his chest, defeated.
He laughed. “Hey, it’s my job as your heart’s protector to make sure he’s good enough for my girl.”
“You are not my protector.”
“Oh yes I am. Just like you’re always flicking at the little bimbo cling-ons that try to stick to me, I’ll be keeping an eye on Mr. Bond.”
“He really hates that you call him that,” I mused.
Those eyes lit up again. “I know.” He waggled his eyebrows.
***
To: London Kelley
From: Collier Stone
What are you doing right now?
Okay, so I’ve resorted to the wankers way out of calling London. Texting is impersonal but it gets the job done. She can avoid a call or choose not to check her messages. With a text, you know from the little icon that she’s seen it. Several minutes go by and the icon still says “Sent” instead of “Seen.” Curse the blasted thing. Jane comes in to bring me my afternoon tea and biscuits or as the Yanks say, cookies. I figure eventually the American terms will filter into my regular speech but after five years, I’ve not lost my accent, though I definitely find it easier to understand Americans after having lived here for so long.
In the beginning, things I would say would bring down the house. I recall addressing our staff at a Christmas party and I said, “Blow me! You all look terrific this evening.” The entire audience, including each staff member’s plus one, howled with laughter. I didn’t get the joke. In England “blow me” is a common term for being surprised or ‘blown away’ by something. Yanks think it’s an offer of sexual service. Over time, I’ve gotten used to items that put me arse over tit with the Americans and have worked hard to learn more about their culture and colloquialisms.
“What type of cookie is this?” I asked Jane. She smiled, knowing I was making the effort to use her term.
“Very good.” She smiled sweetly. “These are shortbread Girl Scout cookies. I figured they’d go well with the tea.”
I took a bite and smiled, letting the dark tones of the Earl Gray flutter over my taste buds. “It does. Very well, thank you. Might I chat privately with you about a personal matter, Jane?”
She sat down abruptly. Her pristine gray suit was a bit big on her lengthy frame, but she’s not the type to worry about looking attractive over smart. Jane is by far one of my most trusted employees at Stone, Walker, & Associates. She’s been with me the entire five years since we opened in the states. If you looked up the word smart in the dictionary, it would have a picture of Jane.
“You recall that dinner you set up?”
“For you and Ms. Kelley? That would be London Kelley, sister to client Aspen Bright-Reynolds of Air Bright Enterprises.”
“Bloody hell. That’s fantastic! How did you know all that?”
Her pink lips tipped into a soft smile. Jane’s face was plain but not unattractive. She’d be quite a fine bird if she smiled more often. The sweep of thick hair was pulled back in an ever present bun. I don’t think during her entire sojourn here I’ve ever seen her hair down. There has to be a lot of it. Made me wonder what she looked like in a casual setting.
“Mr. Stone.”
I rolled my eyes. I’d asked her to call me Collier for five years and to this day, she still refused.
“When my boss suddenly asks me to make reservations for a date, something he has never asked me to do, I make a point to glean as much information as possible. Would you like to know more?”