Escorting the Billionaire (The Escort Collection 1)
But today was the perfect day.
James had changed into jeans and a T-shirt. I finally got a good look at what his upper body looked like, and I almost wished I hadn’t. His biceps were enormous. I tried not to imagine what it would feel like to have them holding me down. He grabbed my hand as we walked, and I raised an eyebrow at him.
“We’re not on display here,” I said. “Unless that’s Todd and Evie lurking behind that bush.”
“Ha ha.” He looked around and nervously scrutinized a nearby bush. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Right,” I said, laughing at him.
Just to test him, I tried to pull my hand away.
He wouldn’t let me.
“We should stay in character. Just in case,” he said, pulling me closer to him. His grip was firm, and I was again reminded of those big biceps.
 
; “Would you like a pretzel?” he asked when we came up on a cart.
“Yes, please.”
“Would you like to ride the swan boats?” he asked a few minutes later.
“Really?” I asked. He nodded at me. My whole life I’d lived here, I’d never been on them. “I’d love to.”
James went and bought tickets and came back, grinning at me. “I’m not usually a swan boat kind of guy, but I’ve been watching these damn things for years and never had a reason to get on them.”
There were lots of noisy children and harried mothers around us; James stood out in the crowd. No, he was not a swan boat sort of guy. I thought that it was sweet of him to offer.
We got into the boat and went back and forth a few times. It was anticlimactic and perfect.
“Did you grow up here?” I asked.
“I did,” James said. “Right over on Beacon Hill.” He jerked his thumb toward the other side of the park, where the Cheers bar stood on the corner.
“But you never came to the swan boats?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Not that I remember. Maybe one of our nannies took us. Could be.”
We were quiet for a second. I wanted to ask him all about his nannies, but I didn’t want to pry.
“What about you?” he asked. “Where did you grow up?”
“In the lovely city of East Boston,” I said. “I couldn’t wait to get out of there and move to Southie. I felt like I hit the big time.”
“Do you have a family?” he asked. “Aside from your pretend dead one in New Hampshire?”
I felt a lump form in my throat—those were the exact questions I’d wanted to avoid. But he’d shared his family with me, so I had to be fair. I would still leave out the more exciting bits.
“My mother still lives in East Boston,” I said, not pausing long enough to give details. “And I have a brother. Tommy. We’re very close. He lives in a special-needs group home in Southie. It’s really great. They’ve been taking good care of him, and I get to see him all the time.”
“How old is he?” James asked.
“Twenty-four,” I said. “Two years older than me.”
“Does your mother pay to keep him there?”
I shook my head no. “I do,” I said, and I heard a note of pride creep into my voice.