They raised their eyebrows with identical sarcasm as I collapsed my pathetic fort and extracted the phone so I could read the latest text, one that stopped me in my tracks:
Knock-knock.
Suddenly, a chorus of rabid, angry dog barks echoed through the house. Madison and I looked up in surprise, while Caleb shook his head with a look of exasperation.
“Madi, you’ve got to get rid of that doorbell.”
I sprang quickly to my feet, doing my best to ignore Madison’s look of fury behind me. “I’ll get it,” I volunteered.
“Yes, I bet you will, Della,” she called back, lobbing a pencil sharpener after me for good measure. “It’s only my fucking job on the line!”
I scampered down the hall and slid to a stop to fix my hair. I suddenly regretted my choice to wear sweatpants, but I didn’t have time to change. I pasted on my best smile and hurried to the door, then yanked it open.
“Did someone order Italian?” James said, giving me a dimpled grin as he held up a pair of bags, the cutest delivery boy in the entire world.
My eyes lit up just looking at him, and when I yanked him inside, my lips were on him in an instant, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
He tensed for just a second in surprise before dropping the bags where we stood. He lifted me off my feet and began marching deliberately up the stairs.
When I finally realized what he was doing, I pulled away with a giggling shriek. “
Wait! Stop, James. We can’t just...You brought food, didn’t you?”
His shoulders wilted, and he let out the most adorable little sigh. “And you really want to eat it?”
I laughed again and wriggled out of his arms, then ambled back to the floor. “I’m actually starving. Your timing is perfect.”
He glanced wistfully toward the bedroom before following me back to the kitchen.
All Madison’s rage vanished the instant she recognized the Italian restaurant logo, as well as the cups of coffee from our favorite café. She and Caleb pushed aside our files in delight, and he was welcomed back into the fold with open arms.
“How are things going?” James asked, after we had stuffed ourselves to the brim with at least seven different kinds of pasta. “Making any progress?”
Caleb pushed his plate back, wearing a satisfied grin. “Madison and I have been making some great progress. Della, on the other hand, seems to be too involved in a game of phone tag.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Apparently, some pathetically needy bloke keeps texting the poor girl.”
“Does he now?” James shot me an accusatory glare. “That’s cheating, you know. As if me catching you in bed with Ronald this morning wasn’t enough.”
Madison and Caleb burst out laughing before they got up to clear away the empty food containers so we could resume work.
“Cheating?” I murmured under my breath, leaning closer to James. “How could it be cheating if we’re not even dating?”
“Not even dating?” he retorted. “I stole a rose from my neighbor’s flowerbed two floors down for you. Why, I had to create a pulley system just to do it.”
I bit my lip and stifled a grin. “All very romantic gestures, to be sure, but it still begs a question.”
It wasn’t usual for panic to flicker through James’s eyes, but it certainly did as he glanced quickly across the kitchen at Madison and Caleb, who were caught in a heated debate about the price of steel mills in Beijing. When his eyes returned to mine, they were guarded, cautious. “And what question is that?”
I leaned back in my chair, gazing at him curiously. A dozen random moments flashed through my head: dancing in the club, eating finger food at the top of the world, his valiant effort to save me from his brother, waking up in one another’s beds, and making love beneath the stars. Finally, I blurted, “What is this?”
All traces of a smile vanished from his face as the two of us stared deep into each other’s eyes. His face was a whirlwind of so many different feelings that I couldn’t begin to understand them all, but one stood out above the rest, an emotion I had never seen on his handsome face.
Fear?
His breathing quickened, and I could practically hear his heart pounding through his shirt. His lips parted uncertainly to form a response.
“Hey, James, do you know a Walter Cannis?” Caleb called across the kitchen with what had to be the world’s very worst timing.
The moment shattered, we pulled apart.