Chapter 12 #3
“As you said, he’s drunk,” she said, calling both men’s attention to her. “Thank you for dinner, but I think it’s time we go. Seeing as I haven’t driven for too long, I’m not comfortable being behind the wheel, especially this late at night. I can call a rideshare to take us back to Manhattan.”
James’s car would have to stay at his dad’s, but James barely drove it, anyway. She doubted it would be a problem.
Charles scowled, the sole indication he was aware Sophie overheard everything. “No need, my driver can drive you back.”
“Figures you’d only help to get us out of here, but we don’t need it.” James turned to Sophie. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
She arched a brow. “Look at yourself, and say that again.”
“We’re not staying, Sophie,” he said.
“Fine, but how are you going to get back?” Charles asked.
James fell silent, and Sophie rolled her eyes. She walked over to him and took his arm.
She forced herself to smile. “Thank you again. We’ll wait outside. Good night.”
She and James headed toward the foyer and bumped into Mrs. Le coming down a hall.
“Oh! Are you two leaving?” she asked. “Wait, wait. I have some things for you.”
She turned back the way she came, disappearing through a swinging door.
“I bet you it’s food,” he said.
“She went into the kitchen, of course, it’s food.” Sophie shook her head. “You really are drunk, aren’t you?”
He grinned and swapped his slippers for his shoes. Staying down on one knee, he grabbed one of Sophie’s heels and gestured for her to step forward.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Helping,” he explained. “Now, come on. Unless you want to wear those slippers back to Manhattan.”
“Honestly, that’s not the world’s worst idea. They are comfy.”
But she stepped out of them. Taking his hand, she lifted one foot into her shoe. She motioned for the other, but he shook his head.
“James—”
He ignored her and clasped the shoe’s strap around her ankle. He muttered a swear as he shoved the small prong toward the little holes marking the strap and missed.
“This shouldn’t be this hard,” he muttered.
“Well, being drunk doesn’t help,” she said. “Leave it, I got it.”
He ignored her as he finally got the prong through, then moved on to the other shoe.
Goosebumps pebbled her skin as his fingers brushed her ankle repeatedly. Raw desire cycled through her veins as she imagined his touch gracing her calves and moving higher.
Closing her eyes, she held back the sigh threatening to escape.
“All set.”
She snapped out of her fantasy and opened her eyes. “Thanks.”
He stood, still holding onto her hand. “You know, if you wanted to steal the slippers, you could. It’s not a big deal.”
She swallowed any lingering want and smiled. “Tempting, but I’m trying to make a positive impression on your family. I don’t think stealing from them is going to do that.”
He laughed as Mrs. Le came back out of the kitchen with two massive bags.
“I had the chef make some extras of what was served tonight, along with some other dishes.” She thrust the bags towards them.
“Oh, thank you. This is too much,” Sophie said even as she accepted the bags.
Mrs. Le waved it off and patted Sophie’s arm. “Lah, it’s nothing! Oh, I heard you loved the potatoes, so there’s more of them in there.”
Sophie didn’t bother hiding her ear-splitting smile. “Thank you!”
Mrs. Le chuckled and turned toward James. “I like her. You better bring her again with you next time, you understand me?”
“Noted.” He saluted.
Mrs. Le grinned and opened the door. “You have everything, yes? Alright, you should head out before it gets too late. Have a good night!”
After profusely thanking her, Sophie headed toward James’s idling Mercedes. Boosting herself in, the top of her head smacked into something soft. She looked up and took in James’s hand, which was covering the hard car frame.
“And that’s why I covered it,” he teased, getting in after her.
She rolled her eyes and smiled as the car pulled away.
In the darkness, she became that much more aware of James than ever. He had been beside her all night, but now, it was like someone turned the heat up to ten thousand.
The driver went over a pothole and mumbled a gruff apology as the car jostled.
She fell into James’s side and cleared her throat as sparks snaked up her side. She tried to pull away, but his hand grabbed her arm and tugged her back.
“Okay?” he muttered.
She swallowed but nodded. “Thank God we’re heading back. I didn’t think I could stay in the same house as your dad any longer. No offense.”
James laughed. “I think I wanted to jump out of a second-story window.”
“Why do you come then?” she asked, her voice still lowered so the driver wouldn’t overhear. She glanced at him, taking in the way the moonlight gilded his skin, making him seem ethereal.
He was quiet, staring out the window. “Honestly, for my mom.”
Sophie’s eyes flared. “Oh?”
“I can see her there,” he continued, his hand around Sophie’s shoulders drawing unconscious circles against her skin. “When I look at the pictures in the hall, I remember that she was the one who took them. When I go up to my room, I see her standing in the doorway, coming to tuck me in.”
Sophie swallowed, fisting her hands. “I’m sorry you lost all that and got stuck with your dad instead.”
“It’s alright,” James murmured. “And while we’re on the topic, I’m sorry for what he said.”
“It’s fine,” she said.
In the years she had been with Marilyn, and even before Covey, Sophie had heard and been called her fair share of derogatory terms. It came with the territory, and what Charles confessed when he thought she was out of earshot slid right off her skin like an inconvenient rain.
“No, it’s not,” James said. His breath brushed over her neck. “Just because it happens, doesn’t mean you have to get used to it.”
She sighed, sinking into him. “I know, but—”
“No buts.”
“Alright,” she murmured. His body heat seeped through her dress, eliciting shivers of desire.
They carried on in silence for some time before he spoke again. The words came sparingly, with too big a gap between them, like he wasn’t sure if they were right.
“When we get back, just stay at mine,” he said. “With the route we’re taking, we’ll pass my place first, anyway.”
She stiffened. “I’m not sure if that’s the best idea.”
“Sophie, please?”
It was crazy how much one word could tear her apart and build her back up all at once.
Growing up, how many times had he been in this exact position, just asking for someone to stay with him? How many people refused and walked away to let him drown?
“Okay,” she whispered.
They had already broken rules when he stayed with her that weekend in Connecticut, and they broke even more now.
If they didn’t want to cross any more boundaries, they had to end that before it went any further but even though there were rules to re-establish and lines to redraw, all that could wait.