Chapter 5
Megan
I’ve barely gotten dressed after my shower when a woman knocks on the bedroom door, introduces herself to me as Clara, the “house manager,” and urges me to come down to the patio where my brother is waiting for me. She escorts me downstairs and out to the backyard, where she hands me off to Cole.
He takes me into the outdoor kitchen and introduces me to the “house chef,” whom he simply calls Chef, a friendly man in a white coat who’s prepping our dinner. I offer to help, but my brother steers me back out to the patio and puts a drink in my hand.
He then starts needlessly sales pitching me on the wonders of living in Vancouver, which I struggle to absorb. I’m so mentally exhausted, the steamy afterglow of my shower is almost putting me to sleep.
I’m halfway through my second Campari and soda, and Cole is still talking, when the big glass walls to the living room slide open and a man steps out.
As he strides in our direction, the world suddenly does this strange stopping-in-its-tracks thing.
It’s like he’s walking in slow motion, and my stomach squeezes, reminding me that I haven’t eaten enough today. I feel strangely weightless, and I must be doing something weird with my face because I feel Cole’s eyes on me. But I can’t take mine off the man strolling toward us.
It’s the man I met in the street.
He’s shirtless now. Tanned and muscular and athletic, with a gleaming eight-pack. A few artful tattoos, mostly etched in black, wind up the side of his sculpted torso and both gym-toned arms, including a dagger tattoo featured prominently on his perfectly sculpted chest, above his heart.
It literally takes me that long to drag my eyes up to his face. And by then, my cheeks and several other parts of me are warm.
He has stunning light-blue eyes, blondish stubble along his strong jaw, sun-kissed hair with a bit of wayward curl in it, and an air of bad boy about him that’s somehow more prominent now that most of his clothes are gone.
Wearing nothing but a pair of low-riding white linen pants, he stands in front of us, staring at me.
No, devouring me with his eyes.
Cole greets him. They hug, and still, he doesn’t take his eyes off me. I don’t even hear whatever they say to each other.
“Megan, this is Jameson,” Cole says, somewhere far away.
I feel warm all over now, tingly, and breathless. My brother is miles away. My feet no longer touch the ground. There’s nothing but the man in front of me, as everything else falls away like a dream I’m waking up from.
Is this what love at first sight feels like?
No. If it was love at first sight, you would’ve felt this in the street.
All I felt in the street was embarrassed, and like I wanted to sink through the pavement and disappear.
But I’ve never felt half as floored with the adrenaline rush of being introduced to a man in my life. My entire nervous system trembles with euphoria while outwardly, a strange paralysis overtakes my limbs.
“Nice to meet you, Megan.” His voice is a low rumble, and just as guarded as it sounded in the street. He doesn’t smile, and I realize belatedly that he’s offering me his hand.
I take it, hoping my fingers aren’t shaking. My heart seems to think I’m on the brink of death, and pumps blood through my system so hard, I might black out.
“Jameson.” My voice is gooey. It’s like I’m liquefying under his gaze.
He’s the sun, and everything around us is just a watercolor world, melting under the force of his heat.
“Cole has told me such nice things about you,” he says. And I love my brother so much right now, I could grab him and kiss him.
I don’t.
I just hold onto his best friend’s hand for an awkward beat—or two—longer than a handshake requires, staring.
* * *
For several of the most awkward minutes of my life, under the guise of “getting a drink”—even though both of them already have a drink in hand—Cole and his bestie relocate themselves to the far end of the patio, by the bar adjacent to the outdoor kitchen.
To talk about me.
I mean, I’m assuming they’re talking about me. Because my brother just deposited me on a lounge chair like a pet and told me to stay.
I finish my Campari, try to overhear them, fail, and try to look anywhere but at Jameson.
Lord of all that’s good and holy, though, he’s hot. Or maybe it’s lord of all that’s bad and dripping in temptation?
Does he have to be so shirtless?
Cole’s shirtless too, but who cares.
Men who aren’t related to me shouldn’t be that naked in front of me unless I’m allowed to stare.
Cole will definitely disapprove if I stare.
I can’t help it, though. The arrow of groin muscle leading down into the front of his best friend’s low-slung pants keeps magnetizing my attention.
At least when they come back, they bring a fresh round for all three of us. Cole sets the tray of drinks on the table between us and hands one to me.
“So, Cole tells me you’re new in Vancouver.” Jameson stiffly starts the conversation, like Cole told him to be nice to me or something.
“Yeah. New.” I wonder what Cole really told him about me. Not Troy, I hope. “I hope he told you I was coming.”
A small smile twitches on Jameson’s mouth before he buries it. “He didn’t.”
“Man. I did,” Cole protests. “I texted you while you were in Vegas.”
Jameson raises an eyebrow. “You did?”
“You never got back to me.”
“Well, hey,” I interject, “if you know Cole like I do, he’s always full of surprises.”
“That’s true.”
“He, um, definitely never told me that his best friend is a billionaire.”
Cole scratches his neck, which I take to be his idea of an apology.
I’ve put it together myself by now—that my brother’s best friend is none other than that Jameson.
Jameson Vance.
The Vances are the wealthiest family in Vancouver and one of the wealthiest in Canada, but I only know this because they own the Vancouver Northmen hockey team, and my brother has been playing for the Northmen for three seasons. That’s why he settled in Vancouver.
I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection when I first saw him in the street. Maybe if I hadn’t been so self-conscious about my broken suitcase and my intimates pouring out, I would have.
I know I’ve definitely seen that gorgeous face somewhere before, like in a newspaper photo. The sports section.
And maybe the front page.
“Yeah, maybe I should’ve warned you,” Cole says. Why? Do I look that stricken? “I know meeting a billionaire can be… intimidating.” Especially for a girl from Crooks Creek, the sparkle in his eyes seems to say. “But I told you about Jamie, that we’ve gotten tight. Didn’t I?”
“You didn’t.” Honestly, Cole never has been all that reliable with staying in touch and keeping me updated about his life.
Although… I haven’t been all that good about sharing the details of my life with him either. He had no idea how bad things were between Troy and me, and that was entirely my doing.
“How did you guys become so close?” I inquire. I’m still trying to adjust my initial assumption that Cole’s new best friend is a fanboy, because members of the Vance family are not wannabes. They’re the ones the wannabes aspire to brush shoulders with. And surely they can hang out with any hockey player anytime they want to.
“Well, I’ve known Jamie casually for years. But we crossed paths at some parties when I landed in Vancouver, started hanging out a lot. He was going through some shit personally, and so was I, and we were there for each other. One of those things. We just clicked.”
I take that in. Jameson says nothing, just sips his drink.
“That’s nice, then.”
Cole leans in. “You can relax, Megan, I promise. You’re so on guard.”
I take a breath, and glance around the beautiful yard, trying to process this whole strange situation. It’s not the one I expected to find when I got here. I thought I’d be staying with Cole in his renovation-zone of a new house, maybe dealing with the awkwardness of having breakfast with his latest fuck buddy on the odd morning. But not this. “You really bought a place in this neighborhood?”
“Yup. It’s not nearly this big, though.”
I eye him. “Is there something I should know?”
He kind of laughs. “Nothing bad. I promise.”
“Cole.”
“Come on. You really doubt me that much?” My brother frowns, but I’m not about to dance around my distrust of him like it’s not there.
I’m never doing that again. Even for a man I love.
“Well, let’s see.” I broach the subject as gently as I can. “You partied and gambled away actual millions you made playing hockey, years ago. Then you lost the money you made illegally gambling. Then you got arrested.”
If he and Jameson really are best friends, this won’t be news.
I can tell it’s not, by the way neither of them flinches.
My brother even subtly rolls his eyes. “That was over three years ago, Megan. And it’s all been cleared up.”
“Yes. Ancient history.”
He stares me down. “How long ago did you go back to a guy you’d already broken up with because he emotionally abused you for years?”
A lump forms in my throat, leaving me speechless. There’s really nothing I can say to argue that, because he’s right. I did do that.
And yes, it was a giant mistake. Every damn time I did it.
Jameson softly clears his throat, and I try not to look at him. This is humiliating enough.
“I seriously can’t take any more man drama right now, Cole.”
“No drama. I promise.” He reaches over and takes my hand. I let him. “Come on, Megan. I’m sorry I brought that up. Just let me help you. Maybe I wasn’t in a position to do that before. You know, mentally. But I am now.”
That tugs at my heart. It gives me a sense of hope I’m not sure I’m ready for.
My brother sighs. “It’s been a long, shitty two days on a bunch of buses, right? Let’s just eat and talk, and you can get comfortable here. If you end up wanting to go somewhere else, I can help with that, too.”
“Okay.”
“You have a home here. As long as you need it.”
“Thank you.”
When I finally look at Jameson, who hasn’t said another word, he doesn’t seem particularly happy about that.
Actually, if I’m not mistaken, he looks like he wants me gone.