Seduced by Stratton (The English Brothers Book 4) (11 page)

He didn’t know whether or not to confirm that he knew. Because she’d never told him, it would mean he’d heard it from Étienne. “Huh.”

“I went back to New York, I called him, I wrote to him. I even went over to his house and knocked on his door when we came to visit for the Summer Party and at Thanksgiving. Thank God he wasn’t home either time. I got over him after that. But, yeah, I can’t lie: it stung for a while.” She paused, then finished softly. “He was my . . . first.”

“I’m sorry, Kate. I shouldn’t have brought him up.”

“Hey, it was a long time ago. Ancient history. And now I’m curious what he has to do with your girl problems.”

“For the past few years, he’s been dating this girl, Amy, who lives down the hall from me. And I like her. I
really
like her. I might even be in lo—”

“Wait, Strat. She’s dating Étienne?”

“Yeah. I know. I just—I don’t want her with him. I know he hurt you. You mentioned him a few times during college when we were drunk. I hate it that he hurt you.”

“He did. But I learned an important lesson too. I have a finely tuned asshole-radar, and I can thank Étienne for that.”

“Thank him? He hurt you, Kate! He—” He caught himself before he shared how Étienne had called her “Easy English,” snickering about her “fat ass” and making lewd gestures about the size of her breasts to the amusement of the other sophomores at St. Michael’s Academy. Alex’s beat-down wasn’t enough. Stratton was still furious about it all these years later. “He shouldn’t be with her. He doesn’t deserve her. I just want . . . I want . . .”

“What?”

“To save her from him,” he finally blurted out.

“Oh, Strat.” She sighed. “I think your head’s all mixed up. I think you’re pissed he banged your cousin and hurt her feelings.”

“Yeah. I am.”
Among other things.

“So I have to question if your desire to save this girl . . . this Amy? Well, I have to question if your feelings for her are true. You might have a crush on her, yeah. Or be infatuated with her. Or genuinely like her. But, I mean, do you
love
her? Or do you just want to save her because you couldn’t save me?”

His head hurt, because if Kate was right, it would change everything he thought he knew was true. It would change his availability where Val was concerned too. As the thought crossed his mind, his heartbeat raced, and he placed his hand flat on his chest.

“There’s this other girl, Kate.”

“What? Wow! Go, Stratton!”

He grinned in spite of himself—her enthusiastic response was so
Kate
.

“She’s . . . Emily Edwards’s roommate, Valeria. She’s getting her PhD at Penn and she’s a dance instructor and—”

“And what? You like her?”

“I kind of like her. Yeah. I like her.” He said the words aloud for the first time, cringing a little because they still made him feel fickle and unfaithful. “But I’ve been into Amy for years and—”

“Is she dating anyone else? Valeria?”

His thoughts drifted to Danny. But he didn’t think Val would have kissed him if she was truly attached to another man. “I don’t know, but I don’t think so.”

“So, you like her and she’s available. And so are you.”

“Well, I’m not really,” he protested. “I’m—”

“Stratton? I’m going to stop you right there. You know I love you?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then listen to me, okay?” She paused for effect. “You. Can’t. Fix. Everything.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means . . . you have some thinking to do. But don’t let a good thing slip through your fingers because you were stuck in fix-it, savior mode, okay?”

He groaned, shaking his head, noticing that they were almost near the Italian Market. “Hey, why’d you call? Just to check in?”

“Uh . . . yeah.”

“Really? No other reason? Come on, I know you. What’s up?”

She chuckled lightly. “Nothing that can’t keep. I don’t want your huge brain to explode, cuz.”

“Love you, Kate,” he said softly, grateful for her sister-like presence in his life, and wishing she lived closer.

“You too. Say hi to everyone for me. And hey! Good luck.”

He checked for texts—none waiting—before tucking the phone in his back pocket. Yeah, he’d think about what Kate said, but for now, his original plan was still in place. No to everything Valeria Campanile-related until he figured out things with Amy Colson.

***

Valeria liked to think of herself as a professional, but it was so damn hard to stay focused with Stratton attending her dance class. Not to mention, he absolutely did not need dance lessons—heck, he could be co-teaching with her, he was so smooth—which forced her mind to wonder why he was there, and hope that despite his protestations, it was for her.

Sneaking a quick glance at his ass for the eighth or ninth time, she sighed. You could bounce a quarter off that ass. It looked hard and toned in jeans, she thought appreciatively. As much as they’d resolved to leave last night’s kiss in the past and chalk it up to a moment of madness, she’d relived it about a thousand times since, and it was addling her brain. Even through her parka and his jacket, she could feel the contours of his muscular chest pressing against her flattened palms. She fisted them now, forcing herself to look away from him before he caught her gaping.

After making Stratton her case study last night, she’d resolved two things:

1.  
   She needed to figure out a way to spend a little bit of one-on-one time with him to
   

    figure out more about his mystery lady.

1. She needed to figure out a way to woo him away from her.
   

Her spirits dipped as she helped a young couple practicing for their wedding dance to re-align their dance pose. Therein lay the problem: How? How did you convince someone you were a better choice for him when he had feelings for someone else?

Well, she wasn’t giving up. That was for sure.

As the song ended, Stratton’s partner, a forty-something woman named Carla who’d been attending classes alone for the last two weeks, headed for the door.

“I have to pick up my kids from my ex at four on the dot,” she said. “Sorry to miss the last dance. Especially with him.”

“Oh, you can’t stay for five more minutes?”

Carla shook her head. “If I could, I would. See you next week.”

Val waved goodbye, watching the studio door close before turning back to the class. Stratton’s eyes caught hers immediately.

“Um, Stratton, we’ll have to be partners for the final dance,” she said, trying to keep her voice as light and level as possible as she pressed play on the CD player. “Simple waltz, everyone.”

As she made her way through the five dancing couples to Stratton, his eyes locked with hers, and he shook his head, gesturing to the folding chairs lining the wall. “How about I help you tidy up instead?”

He gave her a tight smile and bee-lined for the wall, folding chairs into a neat pile and leaving her alone on the dance floor. Her cheeks flushed with heat as she realized he didn’t want to dance with her, but she clenched her jaw, refusing to let her eyes water. Since he’d arrived this afternoon, he hadn’t been especially flirty or friendly. He was drawing a line, and she was on the other side of it.

“Wonderful, Chad and Maura,” she said, forcing a smile as the engaged couple whirled past her. “You’re going to look terrific at the reception.”

       She flicked a glance to Stratton, who had about a dozen chairs neatly piled on the trolley that held them. He was watching her, and didn’t look away fast enough. The tips of his ears were red as he grabbed another chair and folded it.

“No spaghetti arms, Mr. Furlong,” she reminded, lifting the older man’s elbow.

In the mirror, she caught Stratton’s eyes again, but this time he didn’t drop her eyes. He held them for an extra second, his Adam’s apple bobbing lightly as he swallowed. Valeria broke the eye contact when Mr. and Mrs. Caporelli banged into her lightly.

“Remember to be aware of the other couples on the dance floor,” she said with a gentle smile.

As the music started its final refrain, she crossed to the CD player. Her feelings were hurt
again
, and he was rejecting her with his words
again
, even though he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

Turning off the CD player, she clapped her hands. “Marvelous, everyone! Thank you for coming today. Remember that today was the last class for this session, and checks are due next week if you choose to continue into the winter session.” Her heart raced wildly as she lifted her eyes to Stratton, adopting the crisp, professional tone she used with undergrads when she assisted with classes at Penn. “Stratton, please stay after for a moment. I need to speak with you.”

He only had a few chairs left to stack, but his neck jerked up, and he stared at her from across the room in surprise.

She turned to shake hands with her departing students, watching as they filed out, leaving her and Stratton alone in the quiet studio.

He folded the last chair and added it neatly to the stack, then turned to face her with his hands on his hips.

“Thanks for staying,” she said. “So, will you be continuing with the classes?”

“No.”

She swallowed, trying desperately to conceal her disappointment.

“Stratton, you didn’t need lessons. Why did you come today?” she asked.

“I didn’t want you to feel as though you were in my debt anymore. You gave me a free lesson. We’re all settled up now.”

“Ah,” she murmured, forcing a polite smile. “I see.”

“We said everything we needed to say last night, right?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“Good.” With grim lips and downturned eyes, he nodded once, looking as miserable as she felt. “Well, I guess I’ll just—”

“Wait!” she blurted out.

She was emboldened by his obvious internal struggle. He was pushing her away with his words, but his face told a very different story. If this was truly the last time they’d see each other, she had nothing left to lose, she reasoned, and may as well throw her pride on the pile, as well.

“I need another favor.”

He huffed softly, his eyes conflicted when he looked at her. “I think it’s just better if I

just—”

“As a
friend
,” she said, taking a few steps toward him as she fiddled nervously with the filmy fabric of her skirt. “As Barrett’s brother.”

At the mention of Barrett, his brows furrowed together, but his expression softened. “Go on.”

“Your brother’s, um, apartment is being fumigated, which means he’s living at mine until Tuesday. And well, you can imagine, with him and Emily being newly engaged and very much in love . . .”

He stared at her, waiting.

“It’s
very hard to study there,” she finished.

His face was blank.

“It’s very
loud
.”

“Why?”

“In Emily’s
bedroom
.”

She saw the two patches of color in his cheeks as he understood her meaning. She took another step toward him, holding his eyes, which darkened with every inch that she closed between them.

“So I was wondering if you could help me out. If maybe I could come and study at your place tonight?”

“At m-my apartment?”

She nodded. “Barrett is
your
brother, so I thought . . .”

“No.” Stratton clenched his jaw, taking a step back from her. “I’m sorry, but no.”

With his head down, he turned away from her, walking the length of the studio and letting the door slam shut behind him.

As soon as the door banged shut, Stratton grabbed his coat and hurried down the stairs muttering, “Shit, shit, shit,” under his breath. When he finally made it outside, he stopped on the sidewalk, taking huge gulps of cold, fresh air.

“Damn it.”

He looked up at the studio windows, shaking his head. When he had arrived at the studio an hour ago, Val was wearing pink tights, a short pink skirt, and a pink leotard, which had pretty much made it impossible for him to think of anything for the last hour except for how she’d look naked. If he had actually danced with her, he definitely would have ended up kissing her again, hard and thoroughly, until she was breathless and limp, because his self-control was tragically compromised at this point, where Val was concerned. After last night’s kiss? Whenever he was around her, he was going to be in constant danger of repeating it, of trying to best it, because he had a feeling that what they’d shared last night was just a taste of what could be between them.

So, for the entire hour of dancing, he’d repeated the word “no” in an endless loop—whenever she checked out his ass, whenever he checked out her breasts—no, no, no. No, you can’t have her. No, you aren’t free to be with her. No.