by Kelsie Rae
“I’d hardly call it a compromise.”
“Then it’s your loss. Good luck finding someone to play your little fiancée in the next”—she checks the time on her cell—“fifteen minutes. Bye, Liam.”
“Bye, Stacy,” I call as she slams the door behind her.
Falling back onto my bed, I rub my hands through my hair then pull on the roots in frustration.
I’m so screwed.
Chapter Seven
Skye
Brody and I are hanging out in the family room playing Go Fish when the sound of a door slamming grabs my attention. Head snapping toward the foyer, I find the silence that follows almost eerie.
What the hell?
“What was that?” Brody asks in a shaky voice. He’s used to yelling and doors slamming when his parents are home, but since they’ve been on vacation, it’s been relatively peaceful. Except when Liam does something particularly stupid, anyway.
Tossing my arm around his little neck, I drag him into a quick hug then pull out my phone.
“Here. Let’s play fifty-two card pick up and see how fast you can pick them all up. Keep timing yourself until you get your best time. I’ll go investigate, okay?”
With the arm of a quarterback, the kid throws all fifty-two cards into the air until they rain down around him. Once they’ve made an absolute mess around the family room, he starts the timer and dives across the ottoman, picking up cards as quickly as he can.
Satisfied he’ll be occupied for the next few minutes, I creep up the stairs.
“Fuck!” a muffled voice yells. I cringe at the obscenity before raising my hand and rapping it against Liam’s door. Seconds later, it’s flung open to reveal a drool-worthy beast with disheveled hair and a chiseled jaw.
“What?” he growls, his hands flexing on the doorjamb as he eyes me warily.
“Umm…is everything okay?”
“Not right now, Nanny.”
I’ll take that as a no.
“What’s wrong? Where’s your…fiancée?” My face scrunches in distaste. It’s not that I don’t like her, it’s just…yeah, I don’t like her. I’d let her in when she arrived thirty minutes ago. Part of me wanted to cover Brody’s eyes for how little her dress concealed. She looked like she was on her way to work at a high-class brothel instead of meeting her fiancé’s parents. But what do I know? It’s not like I’ve ever been engaged before.
“She left,” Liam tells me.
Yeah, I kind of figured that part out.
“Why?”
“Because she was a greedy little bitch who only wanted money.”
Ouch.
I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying, I told you so.
With a narrowed gaze, he shakes his head. “Don’t say it.”
Raising my hands in defense, I reply, “I wasn’t going to say a word.”
“Sure, you weren’t. I already know the mess I’m in. I don’t need you to make it worse.”
Before I can help myself, I ask, “Umm…is there any way I can help?”
A dry laugh escapes him. “Not unless you want to be my wife.”
I nearly choke on my tongue, and I’m sure my face is the color of a tomato as I even consider something so ludicrous. Thankfully, the rumble of the garage door opening saves me from voicing an excuse that I have no doubt Liam will see through in an instant.
Be his wife? Yeah, not happening.
My feet are glued to the spot as I consider hiding away with Brody for the initial explosion between Liam and Mr. Davis. Those two are like oil and water. From what I’ve witnessed, they’ve never mixed well and are masters at making any situation awkward as hell. The dread written across Liam’s face is more telling than anything else. Maybe we should both hide together.
Alas, I should probably go greet his parents. They’d expect nothing less. And if I’m being honest, my relationship with the Davis family isn’t terrible. We actually get along pretty well. If we were acquaintances at a gala or something, anyway.
Hooking my thumb over my shoulder, I point to the staircase.
“I’m uh…just gonna––”
“Daddy!” Brody calls from the main floor, interrupting me as his feet slap against the flooring in an attempt to get to the garage as fast as possible.
A set of fresh footsteps echoes throughout before a booming voice shouts, “My boy!”
The voices grow quieter as I continue to watch Liam in front of me. He hasn’t moved a muscle as he overhears his father greeting his little brother with more enthusiasm than I’ve ever heard directed at him.
My heart hurts.
With his eyes unfocused and staring into the distance, Liam looks less like the annoying bad boy I’ve grown accustomed to and more like his little brother whom he has no desire to connect with.
“Everything okay?” I murmur quietly.
My voice seems to snap his attention back to the present.
“Fine.” Eyeing my frozen feet, he adds, “Now, if you’ll excuse me. It seems I need to go greet Daddy Dearest.”
As I step aside, he squeezes through the gap I’ve created between the doorjamb and my chest. His arm brushes against my front, effectively turning me into a statue. Heart racing, I watch him saunter down the hallway before disappearing down the stairs. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was the carefree asshole I’ve come to expect.
But I’m slowly learning how wrong appearances can be perceived.
I hesitate at the top of the staircase for a solid two minutes before steadying my breaths and tiptoeing down.
When the sight of Brody playing with my phone comes into view, I grimace.
Great nanny skills, Skye, I reprimand myself before pausing when I overhear Liam and Mr. Davis talking.
“So, where is she?” Mr. Davis accuses.
“Unfortunately––”
“That’s what I thought. You were lying, weren’t you? I mean, who would honestly want to marry a screwup like you? Unless you were bribing her, of course. Then it would all make perfect sense.”
“Like father, like son,” Liam returns, not missing a beat. His hands are clenched at his sides. The malice in his tone is deafening.
“Don’t you start with me, boy. I told you to grow up. And what’s the first thing you do? You take a simple stipulation and––”
“Don’t act like you know me,” Liam growls, cutting him off.
Liam’s right. His father doesn’t know him at all. If he did, he’d know that Liam hasn’t been wasting his twenties traipsing across the world. He’s been helping those in need. He’s been changing the world. He’s been quietly fixing all the problems that everyone else likes to ignore. Yet, here he is, getting a tongue-lashing because of it.
I don’t hear Mr. Davis’ rebuttal. I couldn’t hear it even if I wanted to because I’m too busy making the dumbest decision of my life.
My hands are shaking, and my heart is racing a billion beats per minute as I slide off a ring on my right hand. I don’t know what I’m doing. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m having an out-of-body experience as I watch my sweaty palms fumble with the jewelry before slipping it onto my left ring finger.
With a buzz in my ears, I step forward and call out, “Hey, sorry I’m late. I was freshening up in the restroom. Babe, did you tell them the good news?”
Keeping my pace steady, my bare feet pad across the floor and over to a surprised Liam. His expression is masked with indifference, and I have to give him credit for his poker face because he has no idea what I’m doing. If I’m being honest, neither do I. Reaching onto my tiptoes, I brush my lips against his stubbled cheek then slip my hand into the crook of his elbow. With my head resting against his shoulder, I pray Liam will step in at any second and take the attention off me because I’m seconds away from cracking under the pressure of Mr. and Mrs. Davis’ intense scrutiny.
“Skye?” Mr. Davis says my name as if I’m a stranger before turning his attention to Liam. “This is your fiancée?”
Looking down
at me, Liam’s face splits into a wide grin, showcasing his damn dimples perfectly. “Sure is. Surprise.”
“But…how?” Mr. Davis asks, clearly confused.
“Yeah…how?” Brody mimics, just as curious.
With a look of panic, I peek up at Liam.
Shit. Why didn’t I think of that?
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he tugs me closer before explaining, “We wanted to make sure it was the real deal before we announced it to everyone.”
Thankfully, the little kid is only six and doesn’t feel the need to press the issue before diving back into the game apps on my phone. I breathe a sigh of relief, the anxiety melting from my tense muscles like butter on hot toast.
That is until Mr. Davis interjects, “So where’s the ring?”
“Ring?” Liam questions, playing dumb.
“Yeah. The one that cost nearly thirty grand that you charged to your credit card. I figure that if I’m paying for it, I should probably be able to admire the rock—”
“I insisted on wearing my grandmother’s ring,” I interrupt before raising my left hand for him to inspect. Mrs. Davis finally seems to show a bit of interest in the topic of conversation when she glides forward and grabs my hand in hers.
If they weren’t looking so closely, I’d cross my fingers and pray they can’t tell I bought the dang thing from the mall a few weeks ago. It’s a delicate gold band that almost looks intricately woven, yet it’s still a simple piece of jewelry. There’s no fake diamond to help sell my story, so I add, “My grandpa was really poor when he proposed to my grandma so….” My voice trails off as an awkward silence encompasses the room.
“Well, at least you’re not marrying him for money if you passed his ring up for this,” Mrs. Davis notes, dropping my hand and inspecting her manicure. Apparently, she’s lost interest in the conversation again.
“Yes, well…some people marry for love.” My teeth dig into my lower lip as soon as the thinly veiled insult is thrown, though I don’t miss the way Liam’s chest rumbles in amusement before he covers it with a light cough.
“Anyway, I’m sure you have a lot of questions for my bride-to-be, but she needs to put Brody to bed,” Liam states, changing the subject.
I jump at the opportunity Liam presented me with and grab onto it with both hands. “Yup. It’s been a big day for everyone. Brody, say goodnight to your parents, then we’re going to tuck you in, okay?”
Ignoring me, his fingers keep flying across the screen in his hands. I wiggle out of Liam’s grasp and gently grab my phone before tucking it into the back pocket of my jean shorts. Not exactly the microscopic black dress his other fiancée was wearing when she intended to meet the parents but…oh, well.
“Come on, bud. Go tell your parents goodnight. It’s time for bed.”
As Brody finally snaps out of his electronic-induced haze, my skin prickles with awareness. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Liam’s gaze glued to my shorts, a look of appreciation and confusion painted across his face. Obviously, he doesn’t know how to handle the situation I just put us in. And neither do I.
Brody says goodnight to his parents, and I follow suit, accepting their congratulatory handshakes before escorting my favorite six-year-old upstairs with my hand tangled in his. I’d do anything to get away from that mess.
Chapter Eight
Skye
Sometimes I hate how unfair life is. Mr. Davis woke up early and is spending the day on the golf course with a bunch of associates, and Mrs. Davis is going to the spa to recuperate from traveling yesterday. You know, since flying in a private jet after a couple of months on the beach is so exhausting. Neither one bothered to say goodbye to their little boy. In fact, neither one of them bothered to check with me, either. Good thing I’d planned on spending my day lounging at the pool while Brody is instructed by his private swim teacher. Still, my chest pinches at the knowledge his parents aren’t here to cheer him on. He’s stuck with me. The nanny. And no matter how many people are there to cheer you on, it’s never the same as when your mom or dad is supporting you.
I pull out my phone and send a quick text to my parents.
Mom & Dad Group Text: Love you guys. Thanks for being awesome parents.
Seconds later, my phone vibrates.
Mom & Dad Group Text: Love you, baby!
They know I get sentimental some days when I’m on the job and are used to my random messages. Especially when my older sister, Sway, has hard days. She found out in high school that she wouldn’t be able to have kids. Needless to say, it sucks. And it makes me want to smack Mr. and Mrs. Davis upside the head. They don’t know how lucky they are to have such an awesome son like Brody.
With a sigh, I tuck my phone beneath my fluffy purple beach towel and slide my sunglasses further up my nose.
Diving into the pool like a baby seal, Brody’s head pops up seconds later before his gaze shoots over to mine. With a giant grin, he yells, “I did it!”
I clap my hands and raise my palm toward him in an air high five. He mirrors my actions before his head disappears beneath the water. Giving up on our faux, long-distance high five, his arms save their strength for keeping him afloat, and I catch myself grinning from ear to ear as I watch him kick to the side of the pool toward his swim teacher who comes over three times a week.
“Hey, Nanny,” a familiar deep voice calls from behind me.
Heart stalling, I glance over my shoulder…and nearly swallow my tongue. A pair of black board shorts with a white decal on his left thigh hang low on hips, showcasing the spectacular V muscles that point to…. I cough and drag my eyes up to his face, bypassing the caramel-colored skin on his six-pack and pecs. Nope. No need to study those bad boys.
“Hey, Asshat,” I reply. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Quirking his brow, he grabs a sunbathing chair and drags it toward mine. “Surprised to see your fiancé, Skye?”
With a grimace, I wave him off. “There’s no need for titles.”
“Oh, I think there is,” he challenges. “After all, you’re my bride-to-be, remember?”
“How could I forget?” I grumble, reaching for my ice-cold Diet Coke. His eyes zero in on my mouth as I take a long sip from my straw. Licking the excess moisture from my lips, I ask, “There a reason you’re out here?”
“Maybe I came to watch my little brother swim.”
I scoff. “Try again.”
“Maybe I missed my future wife and wanted to see her.”
Eyes widening in shock, I touch the rims of my sunglasses, grateful for the extra coverage. “I’m gonna go ahead and say you should try again. Again.”
“What? You don’t believe me?”
“Why on earth would I believe you? We’ve been avoiding each other like the plague ever since you came home.”
“That was before you agreed to marry me.”
“And I’m regretting it more and more by the minute,” I quip.
“Aw, don’t be this way. Now’s the fun part.”
My mouth feels like the Sahara Desert, so I reach for my drink again.
“And what fun part is that?” I ask before taking a big gulp.
“You get to plan a wedding.”
Choking on my soda, the bubbly liquid burns my nose as I cover my mouth and cough.
“Shit, you okay?” Liam leans forward and starts pounding my bare back with his giant hand while I try to catch my breath.
“Skye, you okay?” Brody calls from the pool, his face pinched in concern.
Looking over at him, I realize how big of a distraction I am, especially when I see his annoyed swim teacher glaring at me too.
Oops.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I call back. “But I’m going to go get a drink of water in the kitchen. Keep practicing your seal dive and listen to your coach. I’ll be right back.”
I push myself up from the white reclining sun chair and head to the back door when I hear a second set of footsteps following. Peeking over my shoulder, my brows furr
ow.
“Do you need something?” I mutter under my breath.
Liam smirks. “Yeah. I need to talk to you.”
With a sigh of defeat, I continue walking to my destination, praying a certain someone will leave me alone while knowing that he won’t.
Pushing the back door open, I step inside the blessedly cool house then head to the kitchen. Liam’s heavy gaze watches every single movement as I stand on my tiptoes to reach for a glass then fill it under the built-in water filter in the fridge. Facing him, I drink the entire glass. When he still doesn’t speak up, I tap my foot against the cool tile and tell him point-blank, “Start talking.”
“Wow, bossy much?” he teases.
“You have no idea. Now get to the point, Liam.”
“You’re awfully touchy. It wasn’t my idea for you to stomp in and proclaim your love for me.”
“Yes, it was!” I screech.
“I was joking.”
“So, you’d prefer I tell your parents it was a joke and let everything go back to normal?”
Gaze darkening and jaw clenching, he assesses me. “I wasn’t saying that. I just think we should work out a few kinks.”
“No need. There won’t be any…kinks.”
With a dry laugh, he murmurs, “That’s not what I meant.”
I know that’s not what he meant, but instead of pointing it out, I return to the topic at hand.
“What kind of kinks are you wanting to work out?”
“First, how much is this going to cost me?” he states boldly.
I bristle at the accusation in his tone before saying, “Not everyone is obsessed with money like your family, Liam.”
“So, you’re saying you don’t want a piece of the pie?”
Pie?
Shaking my head, I clarify, “Your inheritance? Nope. I’m good.”
“Then why’d you step in last night?”
Isn’t that the question.
I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the past twelve hours, and I still don’t have the answer.