Page 18 of James (Big Northwest #6)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

PHILLIP

H E WAS FUCKING exhausted. They’d been driving for over twelve hours. His back hurt. His legs were cramped. He was hungry and pissy and had to pee.

But the end was finally in sight.

James was curled up in the seat next to him, sound asleep, her head resting on the console between them. He’d pulled her sweatshirt out of their bag on one of the stops they made for gas and now it was folded and tucked under her cheek, serving as a pillow.

She’d been such a fucking trooper. Hadn’t complained once as the miles dragged on and on. But that’s how James was. She just went with whatever life threw at her, taking it in stride. Even when strange men were hunting her like a fucking dog. Even when they showed up at her work and outside her home, she just kept going. Figured out how to survive. And she’d been doing it all on her own for years.

Following the alley that wrapped to the back of the row of townhomes where he lived, Phillip shifted into park and climbed out to punch in the code that would open the overhead door. Tomorrow he’d have to retrieve his SUV—and the opener inside it—from where he’d left it at the airport before flying to Vegas, but tonight he was too fucking tired to worry about it.

Getting back in, he found James slowly sitting up, stretching out a little as he pulled into the two-car garage at the back of his home.

She yawned, eyes still sleepy as she asked, “Are we here?”

“We’re here.” He shut off the engine. “You go inside. I’ll bring everything in.”

“Okay.” James yawned again as she got out of the car, bringing along her hoodie as she went for the door leading inside. She twisted the knob, but when it wouldn’t open she turned to him, lower lip pushed out in a hint of a pout.

He almost smiled at how cute she was when she was tired, but it was his fault she was so exhausted, which killed any amusement he might have felt.

Rattling off the code that would unlock the door and disengage the security system, he went to the trunk to collect their bags. Once everything was out, he rolled the pile to the door, hit the button to close the bay, and hauled everything inside.

He hadn’t been home in what felt like forever. Traveling was a normal part of his job, but finding James had been a process. One that required a little more leg work than usual. Since she didn’t rely on credit cards and nothing was in her name, he’d had to chase down every lead in person, sometimes greasing palms for the information he was seeking.

And thank God he did or James would be in Enzo’s clutches instead of his.

He came in to find James had already moved up a level and was standing in the kitchen, staring at the space. Abandoning the bags, he went to the fridge, hoping the man he paid to keep an eye on the place while he was gone and prepare it for his return had done at least a cursory shopping trip. “Are you hungry?”

They’d only stopped when absolutely necessary, eating what they could scrounge up in gas stations, and he was over it. Thankfully, Morris proved himself worth every penny. The shelves were fully stocked with many of his regular purchases. “I can make us some pasta or maybe a couple of sandwiches.”

“You’d make me dinner?” James sounded perplexed.

“I told you I cooked.” He grabbed the basics for a simple cheese and tomato sauce and slid them onto the counter. “Did you think I was lying?”

“Not necessarily.” James’s eyes moved around the main floor of his home, her expression carrying the same befuddlement as her voice. “Is this really your house?”

“Yes.” He chuckled. “Did you think I was going to take you to someone else’s house?”

“No, but…” She moved to the island and ran one hand over the counter. “It’s just so pretty.”

“You sound surprised by that.” He turned to preheat the oven, setting the temperature before pulling out a baking dish. “I thought we’d established that I like pretty things.” His eyes went to where James stood all on their own, moving over the sight of her in his home. She certainly qualified as pretty, and despite his best efforts, there was no denying he liked her.

A lot.

James moved away from the island, going to the French doors leading out to the small balcony that held his grill and a bistro table. “I know you like pretty things, but this place is…” She shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s amazing.”

Phillip rubbed one hand over the center of his chest, trying to ease the sudden tightness there. “I’m glad you think so.”

He’d dated. Brought a handful of women here over the years. They’d all loved it, which was great. But the look of wonder on James’s face as she took it all in hit him in a way no one else’s reaction had.

Her opinion of this place mattered to him. He wanted her to feel comfortable here. Safe.

He could try to write that off as him simply looking out for his client, but no one would believe it at this point. Including him.

Turning away from the doors, she crossed the kitchen on her way to the dining room. He stayed put, unwrapping the block of feta cheese he regularly put on the shopping list he left for Morris each week when he was home. Placing it in the baking dish, he listened as James’s light steps moved through his home.

He’d finished slicing through a container of small tomatoes and arranging them around the cheese, and was just drizzling on olive oil when James rushed back into the kitchen, expression filled with awe. “Four freaking floors?”

She’d been through the whole place already? “We’re in the city. They can’t build out, so they go up.”

James’s wide eyes dropped to where he was working at the counter. She watched him add the oil and sprinkle on Italian seasoning before saying, “I guess it’s good I’m not afraid to climb out of a window.”

Picking up the dish, he slid it into the preheated oven and set the time. “You’ll be safe here. I’ve got a top-of-the-line security system.”

James came to stand across from him, bracing her elbows on the counter. “I know. But what happens if someone still shows up?” Her gaze drifted around. “It’s so pretty. I don’t want it to get all messed up.”

“Don’t kill anyone inside and we won’t have to worry about it.” He was only half kidding. “But if it makes you feel any better, I can get someone here to help keep an eye on things while I’m gone.”

James stood up straight. “While you’re gone?” Panic edged into her voice. “Where are you going?”

He didn’t like the idea of leaving her here alone either. “I have to go into the office tomorrow. Check in with my team and see what they’ve come up with.”

James’s brow furrowed. “Why can’t I come with you?”

That was a good question. Why couldn’t she?

Phillip turned to the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers, popping the lids off before passing one across the counter. “You would want to come?”

James shrugged, the motion coming across indifferent, but there was no missing the spark of excitement in her eyes. “I mean, I might as well, right?” She slid onto one of the stools lined down her side of the island. “I can make you coffee and give you lap dances between clients.”

He was mid swallow as she said the last bit and his throat constricted all on its own, sending half the beer into his airway and the other half sputtering out his mouth.

James watched, amusement in her eyes as he wiped up the mess with a towel and cleared the rest with a cough. “I can’t tell if that’s a yes or a no.”

He couldn’t look at her. Not now. Not when his blood was rushing through his veins the way it was. “No lap dances at the office. I can’t walk around with a hard-on all day.”

“Then maybe I could sneak under your desk and?—”

Fucking hell.

He held up one hand, cutting her off. “For the love of God, stop putting those fucking ideas in my head.” The last thing he needed was to be distracted right now. Not when so much was at stake.

Not when James’s safety was on the line.

She scrunched her nose up at him as he pulled out a pot and filled it with water. “You’re no fun.”

“That’s not what you were saying when I was getting you off on the highway.” He’d been unable to keep his hands—hand—off her. Knowing she was right there and so fucking responsive to his touch was more than he could resist.

“That is a good point.” James yawned again, her shoulders drooping a little more as she rubbed her eyes.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a shower. This should be done by the time you’re finished.” She’d been through so much the past few days and she’d handled it so well. She needed a hot shower, a warm dinner, and a full night’s sleep.

Hell, that’s what he needed too.

“I think I might take you up on that.” James slid off the stool, yawning again as she stopped to collect the toiletry bag holding the items she bought the day before. “I’ll be back.”

He listened, trying to ascertain which bathroom she headed into, but the woman was practically silent, making it impossible to identify where she chose to set up.

The townhouse technically had four bedrooms. One of them was currently set up as an office and another a workout room. The third was a guest room for when his mother or father visited. It was nice enough and had an attached bathroom. If James wanted her own space, it would be comfortable for however long she was with him.

But that room didn’t hold a candle to the bedroom on the top floor.

His bedroom.

He tried not to think about where James was and what she was doing as he boiled the pasta and chopped basil. By the time he was combining the melted cheese and tomatoes with the noodles, his beer was gone and his stomach was growling.

And a soft set of footsteps was coming closer.

“Holy cow that was amazing.” James came padding into the kitchen wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants, her hair wrapped in a towel balanced on her head. “If I’d known your bathroom was that nice I would have made you bring me here right out of the gate.”

“That probably would have been the smartest thing we could have done.”

He should have hauled her over his shoulder that first time they met. Carried her out of The Secret Garden, buckled her into his car, and driven her ass right out of Vegas. Then she wouldn’t have lost everything. Wouldn’t have had to do the things she did to keep herself safe.

Not that those things seemed to bother her.

“Can I ask you a question?” He scooped a pile of pasta into a shallow bowl, sprinkled on some of the basil he’d minced up, and slid it across the counter.

“Sure.” She took a bite and her eyes rolled closed on a moan. “Holy shit. This is so good.”

The sound she made short circuited his brain and possessed his dick, sending every cell in his body focusing on her as she slid the next mouthful between her lips. He could barely breathe as he waited to see if she’d make that little moan again.

She did.

Phillip gripped the counter with one hand, using it to keep himself from doing something stupid. Like peeling the sweatpants off her and having her as his dinner.

It couldn’t happen. She needed to eat. Needed to sleep. Needed a minute to recover from everything that had happened.

Tomorrow he could have her for dinner.

He moved his gaze from her mouth to her eyes and discovered James was staring at him. She lifted a brow.

“I thought you were going to ask me something.”

Shit. He was.

Clearing his throat to buy some time, he scrubbed one hand over his face, trying to remember what in the hell his question was. He’d been wishing he’d brought her here from the start. Kicking himself for not dragging her out of the club the first time they met so she never had to do all she’d done.

That was it.

“How are you feeling about everything?” He served himself some pasta as he clarified, “About what you had to do to get away.”

“You mean about killing that one guy?” She said it like they were discussing the weather.

“And hitting the other one with the car.” Phillip took a bite, studying her face as she considered his question.

James shrugged. “I’m a little worried about how much trouble I’m going to get in over it.” She reached up to catch the towel on her head as it started to tip. “Why? Has Nathan heard something?”

“You don’t have to worry about getting in trouble.” Pierce was going to be his first phone call tomorrow. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

He was turning into the world’s biggest hypocrite, but didn’t give a shit. He’d told Pierce he was done with Alaskan Security. To be fair, he thought he was. He’d thought the decisions he made had to be all or nothing. Stay at Alaskan Security and live out his days doing what he loved while sacrificing the family he wanted. Or walk away from what he loved in order to claim the picket fence he was so desperate to possess.

So far, he’d managed to get only the worst of both options.

James gave him a little smile, a smudge of sauce tinting the corner of her mouth. “You’re the best.” She shoveled in the last bite of her dinner, leaning back in her seat with a contented sigh. “And I take back my skepticism over your cooking.” She rested one hand on her stomach. “That was so good. I’m really impressed.”

“I aim to please.” He took her empty bowl and loaded it into the dishwasher. “Go on up to bed.”

She hesitated. “What about you?”

He added his own bowl along with the pot he used to cook the pasta. “What about me?”

“Aren’t you coming up?” She chewed her lower lip, looking a little uncertain. “I thought maybe…”

“You thought I’d warm the bed up before you got in it?” He scraped the leftovers into a container and slid them into the fridge, grabbing a couple bottles of water before closing the door.

“I mean…” She grinned at him. “Maybe?”

Phillip added the baking dish and set the dishwasher to run, then picked up the waters and gave James a little swat on her ass. “Fine.” He grinned at her, satisfied beyond belief to know she chose to sleep with him even though she didn’t have to. “You can use me for my body heat.” He followed her up the stairs. “But you’re the little spoon.”