Trade It All, Page 3

  What would I give for one taste of your lips?

  One night in your arms?

  I’d trade it all.

  The song seemed to affect Lance as well. There was a fire in his eyes, hinting at a need that mirrored her own.

  For Lexi.

  To him, we’re the same.

  Inhibitions temporarily pushed aside, Willa waved her arms, matching the movements of the dancers behind her. She threw herself into the energy and the power of the crowd. As more and more people came forward, stripped off their business attire and began to dance in T-shirts and cut-off jeans, Willa shifted away from Lance to move in unison with them. They formed a large semicircle that covered the lawn and flowed out onto the sidewalk behind.

  The words of the song fanned Willa’s confusion.

  You looked right through me, walked right by.

  But you see me now.

  Come on, give me one taste, one night.

  We’ll do it all.

  She let the music flow through her, drive her movements. Her eyes held Lance’s even though they were twenty or so feet from each other.

  I may have been easy enough to forget before. She glanced at him over her shoulder and deliberately wiggled her ass at him. But try to forget this.

  What had started as an interesting and productive day had derailed into a spectacle Lance was struggling to make sense of. If his cock’s judgment could be trusted, there was no way in hell the woman who had just congratulated him was Lexi Chambers. He’d found many women attractive in his near thirty years, Lexi being one of them, but only one woman had the irritating ability to give him a public boner.

  Willa Chambers.

  The flash mob organized into four lines of dancers with Willa in the front. The overall scene might have been impressive but, like a schoolboy, Lance’s attention was drawn to the bounce of two perfectly rounded breasts. His gaze lingered on Willa’s deliciously long, bare legs before she spun, and he was treated to the equally tantalizing view of her perfect little ass beneath a skirt that barely covered it. She shook that delightful derriere back and forth with a seductive rhythm, until all he wanted to do was reach out and haul it against his throbbing cock. Lance gritted his teeth and forced himself to look away. There were many women dancing, several with more provocative outfits than Willa’s, but they couldn’t hold his attention. Every move Willa made, every time their gazes met and clashed, Lance’s blood pounded in a possessive, primal way.

  That has to be Willa.

  His body knew hers, remembered every intimate, delectable inch of her. There was no way to block the memories of her tongue eagerly meeting his. How was it possible that none of the women he’d been with over the past ten years had shaken him to the core as she had? Yes, she was gorgeous, but why Willa? He didn’t regret much in his life, but if he could go back in time he would have stayed away from her that week.

  Or been with her every week since.

  His only excuse was he’d been young with a disproportionate ratio of more hormones than brains. He’d considered himself intelligent, but with her he’d been a bumbling fool—making mistake after mistake until he’d ruined any chance they’d had of being together.

  Proof of the level of his screwup was the length of time Willa had held a grudge. She was civil to him in social situations, but that was all. At first, he’d tried to make amends. She’d said she never wanted to see him again, and he’d wanted to understand why. Eventually, out of respect for her friendship with his sister, he’d backed off. Time should have smoothed things over between them, but it hadn’t. One night. It shouldn’t still be that big of a deal, but it was. He’d given up hope that she’d ever forgive him. His cock, on the other hand, had remained more optimistic.

  Normally, Willa made every effort to avoid Lance. So why is she dancing for me? And why pretend she’s Lexi?

  “Congratulations on getting the Capitol Complex,” Clay said and gave his shoulder a clap of approval.

  Lance shook his head to clear it. “That’s what this is about?” He yanked his attention away from Willa long enough to assess Clay’s expression. “What if I hadn’t closed the deal today?”

  Clay smiled smoothly. “My plan B was to have her say, ‘Better luck next time.’ Either way, it’s quite a show; am I right?”

  “You have too much time on your hands.” Lance turned his attention back to Willa. I know what I’d like on my hands. On my anything. Lance groaned. Stop. This is how I fucked it up the first time.

  “Having fun?”

  No. This is torture, that’s what it is, Lance thought but didn’t say.

  “Your sister has beautiful taste in friends. Twins. Seriously. And you’ve known them since high school? Tell me you’ve had them both, preferably together. No, don’t tell, it’ll ruin my fantasy of doing the same.”

  The idea of Clay with Willa sliced through Lance. He snarled, “Shut the fuck up.”

  Clay raised his hands in mock fear. “Not even willing to share one? I’ll take either. Honestly, I can’t tell them apart.”

  “Then you’re blind. That’s Willa.”

  Clay’s eyebrows shot up. He turned his head to watch Willa as she was picked up and twirled around by a male dancer. “Not Lexi? Do they pretend to be each other often? That’s hot.”

  “No, it’s not,” Lance said unhappily. We’ve known each other for twelve years. Does she think I would ever confuse them now?

  Clay rubbed his chin and looked Lance over again. “Just ask her out.”

  With a frown, Lance leaned in aggressively. “Drop it.” He hadn’t known what to think of Clay when Dax and Kenzi had first brought him around. Lance didn’t have much respect for the typical super-rich silver spoons, who had been handed their fortunes. They were often weak, vain, and in search of entertainment regardless of how it affected others. He, on the other hand, had been brought up with a strong work ethic and knew what a day’s work meant. He was no silver-spooner.

  Lance was an architect. His buildings were designed to stand the test of time and weather. Extremely utilitarian. He and his brothers had worked hard to achieve what they had. Yes, they’d been given large trust funds, but only after they’d already established themselves. They didn’t have time to be bored or plan fucking flash mobs.

  Dax had warned Lance that Clay had been born with more money than God and would go to extreme lengths to avoid boredom. Which explains gyrating dancers instead of a card.

  Dax had joked that Clay looked lonely since he’d been spending so much time with Kenzi. He’d asked Lance to include him in on a project. Clay not only wouldn’t expect compensation, he would bring his network of connections to any endeavor.

  But this—this is him fucking with me.

  He’s testing how I feel about her.

  Yes, Clay had real estate expertise for the city project Lance had bid on, but he had yet to share any of it. Clay’s appreciation for historical buildings and his reputation for optimizing the value of a property was the main reason Lance had agreed. However, the price of working with Clay was proving higher than it was worth.

  He asked personal questions a Barrington would never ask, never mind answer. His general level of interest in all things Barrington had been one reason Lance had agreed to entertain him. He’d wanted to shift Clay’s attention to something besides the inner workings of his family. It had worked.

  And now, it had backfired.

  Clay looked amused. “So angry. Why? You shouldn’t want to punch me for having the woman you’re lusting over dance in that skimpy outfit, you should thank me. I don’t even have feelings for her, and it’s turning me on.”

  Lance raised a hand to grab the front of Clay’s shirt as a rush of anger surged through him. It was only the pleased expression on the other man’s face that held him in check. Clay was trying to get a rise out of him, and it was working. Lance took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in frustration. “You need to back the fuck off.”

  “May
be,” Clay said with a chuckle.

  “What the hell is your problem?” Lance growled. No amount of expert advice is worth this shit. Lance turned away from Clay and realized the music had ended, the dancers had dispersed, and Willa was gone. He swore beneath his breath.

  “What would stop you from hooking up with her?” Clay gave Lance a long measured look. “She was upset when she saw you. You have history, don’t you?”

  “No,” Lance lied. What he’d shared with Willa was none of Clay’s business. “Stop looking for something where there is nothing.”

  “Good, I could have a go at someone like that.”

  This time Lance couldn’t control his response. He grabbed the front of Clay’s shirt with one hand while fisting his other. “If you go anywhere near Willa—”

  Clay pushed his hand off him and straightened his shirt. “Don’t wrinkle the Hugo Boss.”

  Lance ran a hand through his hair, striving to regain control of himself. Some of his brothers were known for their short tempers, but he’d always been the more levelheaded one. He was also a strategist. To win against Mother Nature, an architect needed to imagine worst-case scenarios and plan accordingly. Neither anger nor love had ever made a building stronger. Careful, educated decisions executed with solid, quality materials always produced reliable results. It was how Lance designed buildings and how he lived his life.

  He didn’t brawl with friends of the family. That was Asher’s style, not his.

  Which didn’t change how much he wanted to punch the smug smile off Clay’s face. I don’t need this. Dax will have to find a new source of entertainment for his friend. “I’ve changed my mind about using you as a consultant on this project.” He looked around the grassy area in disgust. “Next time you want to congratulate someone—send a fucking fruit basket.” He turned and walked away.

  Chapter Three

  Rather than hailing a cab, Willa strode down the busy sidewalk, indifferent to her feet protesting the wrong shoes for a prolonged stomping away. She yanked her phone out of the pocket of her jean skirt and glared at a man whose eyebrows rose appreciatively as the act lifted one side of her skirt. She was so angry she wanted to scream, and her expression must have communicated that because the man quickly looked away. Without breaking her pace, Willa called Lexi. It rang through to her voice messages.

  Did Lexi know? Had Clay told her?

  I want to believe he didn’t.

  She didn’t.

  But I know Lexi.

  Willa called right back. This time her sister answered.

  “You knew.” Willa ground out, not wasting time greeting her sister.

  “Knew what?” Lexi answered innocently. Too innocently.

  While waiting for a light to change, Willa continued, not caring that the people near could hear. “That Lance was the person the flash mob was for. You humiliated me.”

  Lexi’s silence was all the confession Willa required.

  Willa crossed the street with the crowd when the light changed and waited for her sister to say something, anything that would make what she’d done okay.

  In a subdued voice, Lexi said, “That wasn’t my intention.”

  So, I was right. Where do we go from here? “It’s never your intention, but that doesn’t change the outcome. I am so angry with you. I don’t want to go back to our apartment. I can’t afford to go anywhere else, but that’s going to change. I think it’s time for you and me to get our own places.”

  “You’re not serious. I thought—”

  “No. You didn’t. You didn’t think about how I would feel, or you wouldn’t have done this to me.”

  “So, what? You move out, hate me forever, and we’ll never talk again? Calm down, Willa; it’s not that big of a deal.”

  “To you. It’s not that big of a deal to you.” Stopping at another street crossing, Willa brushed her hair impatiently out of her eyes and said, “Nothing ever is. I love you, but I remember this feeling. We’ve been here before. I don’t want to go back to thinking I can’t trust you. We’re almost thirty. Maybe it’s not healthy for us to live together anymore.”

  “If you think we’re broke now, wait until each of us is paying our own rent.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll make it work.”

  “You wouldn’t be happy living on your own. You need more people in your life, not fewer.”

  “Don’t tell me what I need.”

  “Really? You can say that after recently passing judgment on every aspect of my life?”

  The anger in Lexi’s tone struck a chord in Willa and deflated some of hers. “I only said what you needed to hear.”

  “In your opinion,” Lexi said shortly. “You dismissed everything I’ve done because I deviated from your rule book. Do you know how it felt to hear how little you respect my choices?”

  Willa paused mid-step. “So, you wanted to prove I’m more messed up than you? Is that why you set today up? Because you wanted to win?”

  “No. Willa, how could you even ask that?” Lexi sounded more offended than apologetic.

  Despite the people passing her on both sides, Willa covered her face with one hand. She remembered accusing Lexi of something similar when they’d argued over Lance many years earlier. They truly had come full circle, back to a dark place. Someone bumped into Willa and brought her back to the moment, making her aware of how public her emotional display was. “Let’s talk about this tonight.”

  “Let’s not. I really don’t want to go twenty rounds with you about something you’ve already made your mind up about. I’m working late then going out. Don’t wait up for me tonight.”

  Regardless of how upset she was with her sister, Willa loved Lexi. She struggled to verbalize how she was feeling. Her greatest fear was losing her sister. Her second greatest was losing herself in Lexi’s shadow. “Lexi, I don’t want to fight with you either, but this was wrong.”

  “Fine, I was wrong. Keep hiding from the world, but don’t blame me when that stops you from having the life you want. If you want to move out, Willa, move out. Or I will. Maybe you need to see what it’s like to not have me looking out for you. Maybe that’s what it’ll take for you to appreciate me.” Lexi hung up.

  Appreciate her? How can she think I don’t appreciate her? She’s my best friend. My twin. Of course I appreciate her. I chose being with her over everything else. Everyone else.

  Willa pocketed her phone and hailed a taxi. Her anger had dissolved, and in its place was a feeling of emptiness she didn’t know what to do with. She’d put the past behind her. Nothing but pain would come from looking back.

  On the ride back to her apartment, she considered calling Kenzi but didn’t. When it came to this situation, there was too much Kenzi didn’t know, would never know.

  Willa entered her apartment and placed her phone and keys on the tray she’d purchased to keep the entryway organized. Lexi had probably placed her keys in the tray twice in all the time they’d lived together, and likely only by mistake. She was much more the type to walk in, toss her keys in the general direction of the table, and keep going. Willa had always gone back and put them where they belonged. She didn’t see how Lexi thought she was the one who needed taking care of.

  Unless she knows.

  But there is no way she could.

  On the way to her bedroom, Willa stopped when she caught her reflection in a mirror across the room. Dressed as she was, at first glance, she could be Lexi.

  Did Lance believe me when I said I was Lexi?

  Does it matter? After all this time, it shouldn’t.

  And I shouldn’t be this angry.

  Lexi isn’t a bad person. She just doesn’t think things through. The ripple effect of her impulsiveness was lost on her. Like a person who runs across the street without looking and wonders why two cars crashed behind her, Lexi was blind to the devastation she sometimes wreaked. How much was a person’s fault and how much would have happened anyway? It was a question Lexi and Willa never agreed on.
r />   Willa changed into yoga pants and a T-shirt. She took out her laptop and sat on the couch. Whether she stayed or moved out, she needed a job. She started to write an email to Dax, asking if he still had a position for her, but then decided to call him later instead.

  She didn’t feel ready to speak to him or Kenzi yet, not after seeing Lance that morning. I should have told him it was me. I should have acted like seeing him was no big deal.

  Instead, I hid behind a lie.

  I’m a coward. No wonder he chose her.

  Willa forced herself off the couch and headed to the gym, taking her reader tablet with her. She ran on a treadmill much longer that day than she normally would have, both because the story she’d chosen was a good one and because she didn’t want to rush back to her life.

  She ran until she was too tired to care what Lance thought of her.

  Too tired to worry where Lexi was headed that night.

  She ran until she was dripping with sweat and her muscles were shaking from the exertion. Only then did she stop. Another woman might have released the tension of the day by crying, but Willa never allowed herself that luxury.

  Crying had never solved a problem. It hadn’t brought her parents back.

  Wishing things were different was a waste of time.

  I have to find a job—and now.

  When I do, I won’t have time to argue with Lexi or waste another moment thinking about a man I should have purged from my system a decade ago.

  The next day Lance was seated at the dining room table with his parents and all of his siblings except Andrew. Dax looked comfortable in his spot beside Kenzi. A visibly pregnant Emily was seated beside Asher. There was an air of anticipation that had made the meal drag a bit, but no one was asking why they’d been summoned that evening. If the expression on his mother’s face was a clue, it wasn’t bad news.

  Sophie took her husband’s hand in hers. “Our family has had quite a year.” She smiled at Emily then Dax. “But we’re better for the changes as well as the additions.”

  Emily used her napkin to wipe a tear away from her eyes. Dax merely nodded, but Lance could tell her words had pleased him.