“I wouldn’t know, since I don’t have one.” Weston grinned. “Is that a subtle way of asking if I’m single? The answer is yes.”
“Gorgeous and smart. What a stunning apartment. I wouldn’t have expected a single man to live in such elegance.”
The light dimmed in Weston’s face. “It was my mother’s. She grew up here in the city before she went away to school and met my father and got married. I inherited it when she passed.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss. I know how devastating it is to lose your mother.” Christine sympathized, and West ducked his head, obviously still in pain. My eyes burned, recalling my foster mother and how she never got to see her dream of me graduating law school. My heart hurt for the three of us.
I watched Weston and Christine, but my mind was on Christine’s words. How the hell did she suspect something had happened between us? She’d always been way too insightful for me. I’d have to be extra careful around her.
“Are you with us?” She waved a hand in front of my face. “Or are you dreaming of something or someone else?” A knowing smile ticked up the corner of her mouth. “I have to get home to TJ, but it was wonderful to see you. Please take care of yourself.”
“I will,” I promised. “I see the doctor at the end of the week.”
“Good, although I think you’ll be fine in Weston’s very capable hands,” she purred. “Let me know if you need anything else. Weston, make sure he behaves. He can be very stubborn.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he listens to me.”
“I have no doubt. You look like a man who gets what he wants.”
Heat washed over me, and I scowled. “Didn’t you say you have a child to go home to?”
She picked up her purse. “Don’t be such a bear.” She leaned in to kiss me. “You smell nice. What a coincidence—you andWeston wear the same cologne.” Knowing eyes met mine, and my face burned. “We’ll talk soon.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Weston said, and Christine, followed by Omar, left the apartment.
Weston stood at the arched entrance to the living room. It was a beautiful classic six apartment, only seen in true prewar buildings. Although the kitchen and two bathrooms had been modernized, the interior architecture had been retained. Crown molding in every room, inlaid wooden floors, and ceiling medallions framed old-style chandeliers, all befitting the grandeur of the apartment. Exactly the kind of place I’d imagined he lived in, and one I’d never dreamed of being able to afford. With this partnership, one day, I could.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I wasn’t kidding when I said Christine brought tons of food. We’ll be eating this into next week.”
I managed a faint smile. There was no way I’d be here, but I didn’t want to sound ungrateful. “Yeah. I’m starving.”
He crossed the room to where my crutches lay propped against the side of the couch. “Let’s go to the kitchen.” He held out his hand, and I simply looked at it.
“I can do it, thanks.”
A faint red flush stained his cheeks. “Uh, yeah, okay.”
I needed to get out of there before I did something stupid. Like let Weston kiss me. And kiss him back.
Chapter Fourteen
Weston
I was so fucked.
Brenner had been right. I should’ve let him go home like he’d wanted to before the weekend, and this…this thing wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have spent all these sleepless nights, thinking of him in the next room, naked in the shower. Every second of those few minutes in the living room replayed in my head. I’d been moments away from ripping his clothes off and finding out what his dick tasted like, what it felt like in my mouth.
These tangled emotions had never happened with any man. Except Brenner. Why him? I didn’t look at Grady or anyone else and want to eat their face off. Brenner Fleming had unleashed something wild and primitive inside me that I had to be careful to control.
We’d spent the days after that almost-kiss circling each other, cautious and polite. I helped him but kept my distance, and he did the same. His doctor had advised him to take it easy, and Brenner had given in to my insistence that he stay with me for a few more days. I could admit—to no one but myself—that it was damn nice to have someone to come home to, even if itwas confusing as hell why it was a man. Specifically, Brenner Fleming.
I rubbed my face and paced the office, avoiding the news of the day, which was the real reason for my foul mood. My father’s primary tonight was splashed all over the news, as the race had proved tighter than initial polls had indicated. His challenger had been digging deep into our family history, and I’d gotten several calls, which I’d ignored. It wasn’t about protecting my father—he could go to hell and stay there as far as I was concerned. But I’d be damned if I’d let them make a fool of my mother and paint her in a negative light.
“West?” Brenner stood at the door. “I, uh, knocked, but you didn’t answer, and your secretary said you weren’t on a call. Everything okay?” His brow furrowed, blue eyes wary as if he couldn’t decide whether to stay or leave.
“Yeah, I’m all right. Just a lot of shit to deal with.”
“Your father? I know the election is tonight. Are you—you’re not going to his party, I assume?”
