Anyone but Alex (The English Brothers Book 3) (2 page)

Cam’s eyes narrowed just a touch. “In a manner of speaking.”

“What manner might that be?” Alex smirked knowingly.

“It’s not like that,” said Cam sharply, and Alex heard the warning in his friend’s
voice. Cam’s lips tightened to a straight line as he looked at the girl and then back at Alex. “You don’t recognize her?”

“I’m looking at her back.”
Alex shrugged. “Should I?”

“
No,” grunted Cam, looking increasingly annoyed. “It doesn’t matter. Hands off. She’s not for you.”

“Protective, aren’t we, Winslow? Why not let the lady decide?”

“No, Alex. Not
this
lady,” said Cam in warning, which surprised Alex, because if she was Cam’s girlfriend, Cam should have just said that, but he hadn’t.

“
What makes this one so special?” asked Alex.

Cam
’s eyes were icy as he stared at Alex, never dropping his friend’s eyes as he called, “Jessica!” in the girl’s direction.

Alex
looked away from Cam to watch the goddess turn around slowly. If Alex had been rendered almost speechless by the perfection of her back, the wind was knocked out of him as he caught sight of her face.

Her black hair curled down over her shoulder in soft waves, but she pushed it back as she stepped toward Cameron. Her skin was so light and flawless that her bowed, red-painted lips drew his eyes like a beacon, and when she smiled, his heart stopped beating for just a second, as if stunned or disbelieving. He raised his gaze to her eyes and found himself captivated by a green so clear and impossible,
it made her eyes sparkle like emeralds behind long, dark lashes. She gazed with warmth at Cameron Winslow, the lucky bastard, as she moved gracefully across the marble floor. Out of respect for his friend’s claim on her, Alex was careful not to drop his eyes hungrily to her body, but peripherally, he could see her breasts, high and full, pushed against the thick satin of her dress. The deep V-plunge in the neckline meant the valley between her breasts was on full, luscious display, and his fingers twitched with longing by his sides, the word
touch, touch, touch
circling around his head like a magic spell.

His mouth watered as she came closer, bringing with her the scent of tea rose. She cocked her head to the side
, and her eyes widened in recognition as she looked at Alex. Something pinged in his memory, but his mind was at sixes and sevens, blown away by her beauty, unable to process that yes, she did look more than a little familiar to him.

Stopping next to Cameron, she grinned back at Alex merrily.

“Jessica,” said Cam tightly, “I don’t know if you’ll remember—”

“Alex
English,” she said in a lightly-accented voice. “Of course.”

No doubt noting the blank expression on his face, she laughed softly. “But I am fairly certain he doesn’t remember me.”

“I… I’m so sorry I don’t—”

Alex’s brain had ceased working the moment she’d turned around, but he was suddenly struck again by the brilliance of her eyes, and flicking a quick glance to Cameron, he realized the color was almost the same.
Oh, my God. She’s—You’re—

“By George, I think he’s got it!”

“Jessica,” murmured Alex. “
Jessie
? Jessie
Winslow
?”

“The very same,” she answered, chuckling again.

“The last time I saw you, you were seven-years-old…”

“
Nine.”

Fourteen
years ago.

Without thinking, he dropped his eyes from her face to the creamy skin of her neck, following the graceful line of her throat to her breasts, still lower, down to her waist—

“Alex,” warned Cam with genuine menace, making Alex’s neck snap back up. “If you don’t stop checking out my little sister, God help me, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

“Sorry,” said Alex, rubbing his jaw with his thumb and forefinger, trying
to compose himself, and desperately trying to reconcile his memories of little Jessie Winslow, who grew up down the street from him, with the heart-stoppingly beautiful, sophisticated creature before him.

O
f all the children who’d grown up on Blueberry Lane together, little Jessie had been Alex’s unambiguous favorite. Alex had always had a soft spot for her, telling her that “No Girls Allowed” nailed to his clubhouse didn’t apply to her and letting her play flashlight tag as his partner when the other older kids told her to get lost. She was six years younger than him, and she’d always been slim and wide-eyed. With her wild tangle of jet black hair, Alex had found her achingly vulnerable. She’d been special to him—the way she’d look up at him with those big green eyes, trusting him to let her into the clubhouse or let her play with the big kids under his protection, trusting him to be kind to her, trusting him to make the right decision where she was concerned. People looked at Barrett like that all the time, Fitz too, but nobody else had
ever
looked at Alex like that. Ever.

Except Jessie.

“You’re all grown up,” he said, trying to steady his voice, trying to calm the fierce rushing of his blood as stared at her. “And you’re finally home.”
“Just for a visit,” cautioned Cam in a low, argumentative voice. “My mother and Jessie are just home for a month from Thanksgiving to Christmas.”

Alex nodded respectfully at Cam before turning back to Jessie. “Staying at Westerly?” he asked,
referring to the Winslow estate just down the road from Alex’s childhood home, Haverford Park.

“Where else?” she asked with sparkling eyes.

“I hope we’ll see some of you while you’re home,” said Alex.

“Me too,” she said
as Cam muttered, “Unlikely” at the same time.

Cam cleared his throat
. “Well, Jess and I are on our way out…”

“So I gathered,” said Alex, flicking his eyes down to the deep V of her neckline approvingly. Her eyes were darker when he caught them again, and heat shot down to his groin with almost uncomfortable precision.

Jessie let her eyes drop for a moment too, lingering on Alex’s white tuxedo shirt, before raising them. “You’re headed somewhere, too?”

“Yes.” He shook his head briefly as his
schedule for the evening re-asserted itself. If spending his evening with Margaret Story had seemed a drab plan fifteen minutes ago, now it felt positively unbearable. He gestured limply to the elevator. “We, um, we’re headed to the Union Club.”

“What a coincidence,” said Jessie. “That’s where we’re going. I guess we’ll see you there?”

At Alex’s mention of “we,” her eyes had lost a hint of their luster, and it surprised Alex how much he wanted to restore it, but before he could say anything—

“
We
?” asked Cam, looking relieved for the first time since calling Jessie over. “Who’s your date?”

“Margaret
Story.”

“
Margaret. Wonderful girl. Haven’t seen the Story sisters in ages,” said Cam, referring to the family of five sisters that had also grown up on Blueberry Lane, in Forrester, the mansion across the street from the Winslow’s Westerly. “I didn’t realize you two were together.”

Alex flinched. In no way did he want for Jessie to believe that he was seriously dating someone. He started stumbling over his words to explain. “It’s not like that. We’re just
—”

“We don’t
need the sordid details,
Professor
.”

Alex stiffened
. Generally he rolled his eyes or smirked at the nickname, but he hated the way it sounded in front of Jessie. “No. It’s not like that. We’re not a couple. I mean, Margaret and I aren’t—”

“Aren’t what?”

Alex whipped his head around to find Margaret Story standing behind him, her chestnut brown hair in a smart chignon, wearing a Grecian-style, gold-lamé gown. She looked elegant and sophisticated, but she couldn’t hold a candle to the fresh, young beauty of Jessica Winslow. His whole body deflated at the sight of Margaret, and the familiar ache, which he hadn’t noticed as he chatted with Cam and Jessie, returned.

“Margaret,” Alex said,
rubbing his chest and giving her an apologetic smile.

“Hello, Margaret,” said Cam, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. “You look smashing.”

“Hello, Cam. I heard through the grapevine that we’re neighbors now?”

“That’s right. Come by for sugar anytime.”

Margaret chuckled politely, but her shrewd gaze flicked to Jessica, almost ten years her junior. Alex watched as Margaret put together the pieces of the conversation she’d walked in on. “Jessie Winslow, I’d know you anywhere, though I can’t remember the last time I saw you.”

“It’s been years.”
Jessica held out her hand and smiled warmly at Margaret. “How is your sister, Jane?”

“Very well,” said Margaret, her shoulders relaxing
just a little. “I’ll be sure to say hello for you.”

“Please do. I’d love to see her while I’m visiting.”

“Visiting.” Margaret glanced at Alex, who nodded to confirm this bit of information, then back at Jessie.

“
I’m just here for the holidays,” clarified Jessie, handing her coat to Cameron, who held it for her.

Alex had never felt jealous of a coat before, but as she pulled the lapels close
to her throat and tied the satin sash around her tiny waist, he wished he could hold her so closely, feel those curves pressed so intimately against him.

If it discomposed Jessie to lift her eyes and find Alex
gaping hungrily at her, she didn’t let it show. Her eyes softened as they searched his, and her lips tilted up in a sweet, sad smile.

“It was good to see you,” she murmured before Cam took her arm and ushered her out the door to a waiting cab.
Alex watched as the doorman closed the door behind her, as she stepped into the cab, as the taillights sped away.

“Ah-hem,” said Margaret from beside him, and he turned to look at her.

“Margaret, I’m—”

“If you were me, what would you do?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, taking the black velvet wrap she held over her arm and holding it for her as she stepped into it. “What do you mean?”

“I
had
intended to invite you up tonight,” she said meaningfully, looking down as she tied bows out of the satin ribbons that held the cape closed. “But, apparently, you and I aren’t …”

She looked up, raising her eyebrows at him, silently asking him to finish the statement he’d been making as she walked in on their conversation.

“Aren’t going to happen,” he said softly, surprised as the words left his mouth.

“I see.”
Margaret nodded once, handling her disappointment with grace. “It probably doesn’t make much sense to go to the gala together then.”

“I’d
still be honored to be your attendant, Margaret,” said Alex quickly. “And you won’t be lonely. That dress is—as Cam observed—smashing. They’ll be lining up in droves.”

“Do you think so?”

“I do.” Alex nodded, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “You’re terrific, Margaret.”

“Terrific.
Hmm. You know, it doesn’t feel so terrific when the—forgive me, Alex, but let’s just be honest here—manwhore of the country club turns you down when you’re a sure thing.”

He stared at Margaret, dumbstruck.
Hearing her call him out in such blatant and unflattering terms, no matter their validity, was embarrassing. He felt the heat rush into his cheeks, but on the heels of his shame was an even more alarming thought—

She was right.

There
is
something wrong with Alex English
, he thought again, grimacing at her. Not only was his chest aching again, but he was suddenly turning down a sure thing, when he
never
turned down a sure thing. Why? Why would he do that?

It was a r
eally uncomfortable question that Alex wasn’t remotely interested in answering.

“I didn’t turn you down,” he
finally pointed out, trying to grin at her, but feeling none of the easiness he normally did when flirting with a woman. “You withdrew the offer.”

“I guess.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “You know, I haven’t gone stag to one of these things in a million years, but I think I’m better off going on my own tonight. No hard feelings?”

“
None at all. Sure you don’t want to share a cab?”

She
shook her head and reached up to place a light kiss on his cheek. “We weren’t meant to be, you and me,” she said, turning toward the front door of her building as Alex accompanied her to the curb. “But one day I’ll say I was there to witness it: the moment the elusive heart of Alex English got sideswiped by a kid.”

Jessie sat beside Cameron in the car to the Union League Club trying to catch her breath and compose herself without looking like anything was amiss. She stared out the window as the streets of Philadelphia zoomed by, trying to focus on something—
anything
—other than Alex English, and was amazed to find that although she’d been away for years, she still recognized landmarks and places. Though London would always be her home, she was pleased to discover that Philly still felt familiar.