Saint’s rule—he drilled it into each of his brothers, all of his friends, and Saint’s friendship meant too much to me to even think about screwing one of his brothers—especially one who affected me as much as Jamie. His smile, the way he walked, whatever that fucking cologne he wore…
I’d seen his face every time I closed my eyes over the weekend. I’d fucked the image of him every which way until the urge was gone. And now, standing in my office, even with the spicy aroma of pepper and bergamot hanging heavy in my imagination to tease me, I could push all thoughts of him away. And even I wasn’t dumb enough to have a one-night stand with my business partner’s brother.
But lingering notes of his signature scent seemed to hang in the air as I approached the conference room, almost as though I could separate strands of Jamie from slightly stale coffee and whatever cleaning solution the cleaning service used, and I blew out a breath before sucking in another to try to settle myself. Saint had called all of the interns over the weekend and arranged for the successful ones to come in to the office this morning.
I took a beat outside the door. Just one, because I’d cured myself of my inappropriate Jamie fascination over the weekend, obviously. I could do this. I was strong.
Hell, yeah. I was more than strong. I tensed my jaw as I reminded myself that I was Nico Holton, successful lawyer, founding partner in a practice. I was strong, and I was immune to any of the charms of Saint’s little brothers. In previous years, I’d eaten interns for breakfast, morning snack and lunch. I regularly chewed up fully grown lawyers and spat them out in court. And I wasn’t easily distracted. I was focused and professional, and I liked to win, so I definitely had this thing under control.
I fixed a wide, hopefully welcoming, grin onto my face and walked into the conference room.
But I sensed him before I saw him—Jamie. Sitting in the far corner. And my gaze immediately locked onto him like I’d developed some sort of superpower. Possibly the worst kind of superpower. I held in my groan, but even that was a superhuman feat. Jamie looked incredible. I almost checked my mouth for stray drool as I observed him, his suit simple but sharp. All the Caldwells wore their clothes well, apparently—or Saint was giving out fashion advice on the side.
He glanced up and his blue gaze flicked to me…then right past. There hadn’t been a spark of recognition in his eyes, no smile, no acknowledgment that he even knew me from a hole in the wall. And I didn’t want it to, but that hurt.
Jamie was usually the friendlier Caldwell brother. He’d always been a quiet kid. Quiet but sweet. Sweet like the pale raspberry color of his lips. The thought was fleeting, but I breathed in again before holding my breath against more of his cologne.
But the way he’d looked at me then studiously focused his attention elsewhere left me cold, and an unfamiliar hollow formed in my chest. It was as if he hated me, but hell. I didn’t care if one intern, one friend’s kid brother, hated me. I couldn’t.
With effort, I continued walking to the front of the room, to my best friend and business partner. To Saint.
To normalcy.
I could do business shit. I shone at that—taking names and getting stuff done when our backs were against the wall or when even Saint didn’t think we could win a case.
Too bad the first murmured words out of my mouth were, “Is Jamie doing okay?”
Saint glanced at me before turning his head in his brother’s direction. The seconds passed, and I swallowed to ease my dry throat. Maybe Jamie wasn’t okay. But I really needed that not to matter.
Eventually, Saint nodded. “Yeah, he looks all right. Pretty good, even.” He smiled at me. “He should be on top of the world, scoring an internship here.”
I studied Jamie myself, trying to keep my interest covert. Saint had sounded pretty sure about his brother, but maybe he wasn’t right.
The conference room door opened again, and Malcolm breezed through. I’d almost forgotten he needed to be involved, and something between disappointment and trepidation twisted my gut. I didn’t want to fend off Malcolm’s trying for a repeat of our ill-judged evening together for the next twelve weeks as he feigned mentor business. I could only