Chapter 4
Lucky
After landing in Boston, I grab my carryon and text Slate as I walk to baggage claim. He sends me the bank address, the rental car company, and the weather report.
Bloody hell. Heavy snow is predicted by late evening. With that in mind, I choose a four-wheel drive. If I’m lucky, no pun intended, Mrs. Bradford-Clarke will cancel her charity event, my company will get paid, and I’ll have some time off. I might even ask the pretty grad student to show me around town.
When I message my client, she sends me her coordinates and as a second thought, I text:
Me: C U in an hour. How will I know U?
Calli: I’ll be out front. Navy coat. Bright pink hat.
Because the snow is an icy mix, traffic is a fucking mess, and I barely make it on time. Seeing her hat, I pull to the curb and am about to get out when she jumps in.
“Sir James?” She lowers her scarf, lovely lips move, and these incredible blue eyes fixate on mine.
“Yes, miss. I’m sorry I was late. The snow. Drivers are bloomin’ nuts.”
A low and throaty laugh floats from her. “It’s not the weather. Bostonians pride themselves on being the worst driv-ahs in the world. How was your flight?”
“Fine.” I shoot her a glance, immediately regretting it because she’s removed her hat and scarf.
With her hair all mussed up and the tops of her cheeks rosy, she’s cute as hell. “You ev-ah been in Boston befor-ah?” The way she drops her R’s is adorable.
“No, never.”
Her smile lights up the front seat. “Where’re you from? I love the accent.”
“Here and there.” I shoot her a wink and she grins.
“Oh, ho. A man of mystery.”
“Something like that. What about you? You always live in Boston?”
Sighing, her sunny brightness dims. “Until I get my degree. Then, I’m leaving forever.”
“Don’t like the cold?”
“Something like that.” Sadly, she shakes her head so I change the subject real fast.
We chat about the weather until we reach the bank’s parking lot. Once there, we don hats and scarves. Even so, with the windchill my eyes water and tears freeze on my lashes. Tucking my head down, I rush toward the front door and hold it open.
“Thank you.” She pauses in front of my face, her gaze lifts. and her nostrils flair.
Later, luv. Right now, we have an appointment with ancient earrings.
“You’re welcome.” I follow her inside where she unbuttons her wool coat exposing a tight pink sweater.
While I admire her lovely curves, intelligent eyes undress me from my designer scarf to my leather boots.
“Are you alright, Sir James?” A mittened hand rests on my elbow and she blushes delightfully.
Bloody hell, no. I’m not alright.Fireworks shoot between us as we stand there dumbstruck.
Now, I’m a grown-ass man and realize love at first sight is a bloomin’ fairy tale but my willie didn’t get that memo. Having been recently forced into celibacy, he thinks it’s his birthday, the Fourth of July, and Christmas all rolled into one.
I keep my coat buttoned up.
