Page 22 of Trade It All (The Barrington Billionaires 3)
“Ready?” he asked, stepping back to look at her appreciatively.
“I am,” she answered, her mouth dry from nerves.
“You look awesome.”
“Thank you.” She almost said he did, too, but she was more cautious this time.
He walked her to his hybrid sedan and opened the door for her. Willa glanced up at the window of her apartment and saw Lexi watching her. Did I honestly think she wouldn’t? Don’t get involved, Lexi. I don’t know if I could forgive you again. This time you were warned. Their eyes met across the distance before Lexi let the curtain fall as she turned away.
Perhaps noticing an expression of distress on Willa’s face, Lance asked, “Is everything all right?”
Willa turned and slid into the car. Her stomach was twisted in knots. How am I going to look happy while trying not to throw up? I should have told Lexi where I was going. Did I just create a problem where there hadn’t been one?
For God’s sake, can’t I let myself simply be fucking happy? She forced a smile to her lips. “Wonderful. Let’s get out of here.”
Lance walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat. Before starting it, he put his hands on the steering wheel and looked as if he were engaged in an inner debate. Finally, he glanced over at her. “Did you have breakfast?”
Not able to imagine eating anything while her stomach was churning the way it was, Willa said, “Yes.”
He nodded. “Great. We’ll head right to the NOWA open market. It’s a craft and art fair.”
Another surprise, or is he saying what he thinks I want to hear? There was nothing about his expression, however, that implied he was anything but happy about the idea. Don’t look for problems. “Is this your first?”
He started the car and pulled out into the Boston traffic. “Art fair? No. I prefer them to galleries. More authentic. I have a few pieces hanging in my apartment from a relatively unknown artist, Simon Graft. And you never know who you’ll meet. Three years ago I came across a man who painted landscapes with Caspar Friedrich’s flair.”
“I love his works. At first glance some seem dark and somber, but they draw you into their story.”
Lance looked pleased that she understood. “Exactly. I bought one of Simon’s paintings for my place, then went back and hired him to paint my mother’s garden. My mother loved it so much she showed it to all of her friends. She knows everyone. His paintings are now in hotels all over the world.”
His voice, his story . . . they washed everything else away. This side of him was unexpected and wonderful. “I sent your mother a bouquet of flowers with a thank you for the care package she gave me.”
Lance smiled. “She’ll love it.” He navigated a busy intersection then glanced at Willa again. “I called Emily, and we’re all set for a private tour with her tomorrow. She asked if we were going to join everyone for dinner at my parents’ afterward. I didn’t say yes, but I didn’t say no either. I wanted to know how you felt about going there with me. On one hand it’s early to ‘take you home’ so to speak, but on the other hand you already know everyone, and they’d love to see you.”
Willa gripped the front of her seatbelt as if it were a lifeline. If they’d never hooked up. If the condom hadn’t broken and she hadn’t—
If we didn’t have history, what would I say to an amazing man who liked me enough that he wanted his family to know we are together?
Wouldn’t it be an easy yes?
It’s not like we’ll be able to hide what we’re doing. Everyone will know soon enough.
She thought about her earlier conversation with Dax and cringed. What will he think when he finds out? Will he say anything to Kenzi?
Probably not, unless he thinks I need protecting, which is a good argument for simply letting everyone see us together.
“I’d love to have dinner with your family,” Willa said with forced brightness. “Will Kenzi be there?”
“Probably. She’s spending more time with our parents lately.”
“That’s really nice to hear,” Willa said sincerely.
“It is,” Lance agreed easily. “So, I’ll tell them we’ll be there?”
Willa swallowed hard. “Absolutely.”
Lance valet parked at a hotel a street over from the park. As he and Willa walked toward the fair, he wondered if asking her to have dinner with his family had been a mistake. Things were going well. Part of him wanted to keep her to himself and ensure it stayed that way.
He wanted this time to be different, though, and that meant not hiding it from his family. This wasn’t him breaking any rules and sneaking around with his little sister’s best friend. He didn’t need anyone’s permission or approval, and dating her out in the open would make that clear without the necessity of actually saying it.
He didn’t usually take his dates to his family, but Willa wasn’t just a date. He didn’t know what exactly they were, or would ever be to each other, but she was important to him.
He thought back to how badly things had gone the first time Kenzi brought Dax home and said the same thing about him. Asher and Ian had been the classic asses they often were. They wouldn’t be like that to Willa, though. They already cared about her.
As they stepped onto the park grounds, he took Willa’s hand in his, and it felt like the most natural thing to do. Yes, the attraction was still there and pulsing between them, but there was also an easiness with her. He didn’t worry that she was after his money. She wasn’t using him for his connections. He could be himself with her, the man he was with his closest friends.
The day went too fast. They strolled through the booths learning about each other as they explored all forms of artwork. They marveled at the creative possibilities of blown glass, then laughed as they challenged each other to find the most offensive T-shirt in the place.
They were still laughing over one when they ran into two of his close friends. Thomas was a corporate lawyer who had married his high school sweetheart, Kathryn, right after college and now had two children under the age of five. Kathryn was a pediatrician and Thomas’s political polar opposite, but somehow it worked. Neil was a gifted pianist who, if the woman on his arm was anything to go by, was still dating women who looked exactly like Linda, the woman who’d broken his heart a few years earlier.
Introductions were quickly made and Thomas asked if Lance and Willa would join them. Willa seemed okay with the idea, so Lance said, “We’d love to.”
As they walked around the fair, Lance watched his two friends with their women. Thomas and Kathryn had a naturalness to their relationship. Even while they bickered, their respect and love for each other was clear.
In comparison, it was a little sad to watch Neil with . . . What did she say her name was? I guess it doesn’t matter as long as I don’t accidentally call her Linda.
He wondered if Neil was telling himself the same thing.
The day flowed into the six of them going to a casual dinner, which led to drinks at a terrace bar overlooking the Charles River. Lance loved watching Willa with his friends. She could debate everything from politics to what survival items everyone should have on hand in case of a zombie apocalypse. After a few drinks, her opinion became more heated, but, even while she was disagreeing with someone, she still had them smiling.
When Willa excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, Thomas said, “I like her.”
They’d all had a few too many drinks, evidenced by how the usually reserved Kathryn leaned toward Lance and said, “Me, too. You’ve been stuck on her since college. I hope you close the deal this time.”
Neil drank down a gulp of his beer. “If you love her, don’t let anything come between you. After you lose something like that, nothing and no one can ever compare.”
Love? I don’t . . . Lance barely had time to deny it to himself before the brunette beside Neil threw down her napkin, grabbed her purse and stood. “That’s just great.”
She stood there looking at Neil as if waiting for him
to say something that would make her stay. He shrugged awkwardly. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
Hitching her purse on her shoulder, the woman raised her chin proudly and said, “The problem is, you did.” She walked away without another word.
Neil finished his beer in one swig. “I could go after her, but you know what, I don’t care enough to. That’s what I’m saying, Lance. When it’s wrong, it doesn’t matter. When it’s right, the thought of losing her hurts like having your testicles shoved into a blender.”
“That’s a disturbing image,” Lance said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Easy, Neil,” Thomas said with a nod toward the ladies’ room. “Willa’s coming back.”
Kathryn patted Neil’s back with sympathy. “Let’s get him home, Thomas.”
Thomas stood. “We shouldn’t have done the tequila shots. He can’t handle them.” He held out his hand to Neil. “Phone.”
Neil stood and made a face at Thomas. “I’m fine.”
Kathryn turned him around and took it out of the back pocket of his jeans. “You can sleep on our couch tonight, Neil, but we’ll hold onto this.”
