Perfect Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  I’m not looking forward to the ice-cold shower I’ll need to survive this long-ass night.

  Reese chooses Wolf of Wall Street on Netflix.

  “This is your pick?” I say in disbelief.

  “Do you not like it?”

  I laugh heartily. “I love it. I don’t know many girls who dig it, though.”

  She scrunches her nose up. “Yeah, well, most of the girls you know are those high-maintenance model types.”

  After an hour in with my well-behaved arm around her shoulder, she yawns and says she can’t keep her eyes open.

  I switch off the TV, head for my room, and curse my way through the coldest shower of my life. I’m fucking shivering when I come out in a robe and flop down on my mattress.

  Why did I buy such a massive bed? It’s too big for one person. Too empty.

  Because you spent years never going to bed alone, dumbass, a voice says in the back of my mind. This monk life is new. It sucks.

  Reese’s words haunt me. You’re making me crazy.

  I wanted to haul her into this bed so bad when she said that. Hell, I would’ve settled for the nearest flat surface.

  She’s turned me into a heated mess.

  I close my eyes and try to sleep, but sleep doesn’t come easy.

  My thoughts land on Will Frisk, the reason they’re here. Nothing seems beneath that puke, including hurting Reese or Millie.

  Still, in a twisted sense, I owe him. My home feels more complete while I’m protecting the girls from his crap.

  I don’t know what he has planned next—guys like him rarely give up after a single snag—but I don’t want either of them out of my sight. I need to check on them.

  And scotch. I need scotch.

  Another thing I can’t have, which makes me grit my teeth.

  I fight my instincts for God knows how long until I remember I never finished that root beer. Sighing, I climb out of bed.

  I pass by the room they’re sharing on my way to the kitchen. Millie sleeps sideways in the bed with her whole body wrapped around a pillow, snug next to a pile of blankets.

  I bite my lip to keep from laughing when I realize Reese isn’t here.

  Where is she? I walk through the living room and kitchen looking for her, and when I don’t find her, I check the guest room again. Millie’s knocked out, but no Reese.

  I check the other guest room. Millie must have ran her out. Reese sleeps like an angel in there, splayed out on the bed.

  I may have left a mark on her neck earlier, which is darkening to burgundy now.

  Oops.

  I pull on a sweater, slide into some shoes, grab my drink, and open the sliding glass door for the balcony.

  It’s warm enough tonight not to shrivel up like a walnut. The twinkling skyline glimmers, beautiful as always. There’s a reason this is my favorite place to think.

  I must be out there for almost an hour when something scuffs behind me.

  “Quick Nick,” a tiny voice says.

  I turn around to find a barefoot Millie hugging a pink teddy bear. “I...I had a bad dream.”

  “You did?” I step inside and pull the door shut behind me. It’s way too cold for Millie to be outside barefoot.

  “Can’t sleep. And I dunno where Auntie Reese went. And I’m scared.” She presses her thumb to her tiny mouth.

  That’s a lot of “ands.”

  “You’re lucky I used to work for the Sandman,” I say, waving a hand toward the kitchen. “Come with me. I’ll give you something that’ll put you right down.”

  We step into the kitchen, and I adjust the lights so they’re not blinding.

  “Ever heard of spiced milk?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  “My grandma used to make it for my brother and me whenever we had nightmares. She told me it’s a magic potion, and if you drink it all up, you’ll always have sweet dreams.”

  Millie gasps. “I wanna try!”

  “Coming right up.” I go to work, only pausing when I hear her little voice again.

  “Your gramma used to make it for you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Not your mommy?”

  Damn. I’m lucky my mother didn’t sell me to the highest bidder.

  “Nah. Our grandparents were a lot like our parents growing up. It all worked out,” I say.

  “Did your mommy go away too? Like mine?”

  Fuck. I look over and her face is wilted with sad thoughts.

  “Listen, I don’t know your mom, but from what I’ve heard she didn’t run off and leave you.” I stop. Then again, she won’t talk to the attorney to get back to her daughter, so I could be wrong. “My mom left a lot because she wanted to. Sometimes she just wanted a vacation.”

  “Where?” Millie asks excitedly.

  I think travel excites her. Perfect distraction.

  “Europe, mostly. But sometimes she’d visit different islands in the Pacific.”

  “Wow! I wanna see when I grow up,” she chirps.

  “You’ll get your chance.” I nod, pouring milk into a frother I adjust to the lowest setting.

  “Did you miss your mommy?”

  Once upon a time, I did.

  Part of me still does, I suppose, no matter how much of a monster she was.

  “Sometimes, but I was very lucky. My grandma loved me so much she didn’t want to share me with my mom. Grandma and Grandpa did a lot of amazing things for me.”

  “Auntie Reese wants to share me with mommy,” Millie babbles.

  The frother dings. I take the milk out, test the temperature, and then add cinnamon, sugar, and a splash of vanilla before pouring it in a small cup and handing it to Millie.

  “You’re a lucky little lady. Your aunt loves you a whole lot, and so does your mama.”

  Millie giggles. “Auntie Reese always says she wasn’t supposed to be a mommy. She never had to cook before.”

  I chuckle. “Leave the cooking to me, munchkin. She’s happy to have you with her, though. I know that much.”

  “I miss my mommy.” She looks down at her cup and drinks the milk before blinking up at me. “This is yummy!”

  “Yep. Sometimes I had nightmares on purpose just to get this milk,” I say with a wink.

  She takes another drink and giggles.

  “I hope we can get your mom home soon so you won’t miss her anymore,” I tell her.

  “Me too. Not having mommy makes me sad. I want her here with us...”

  “I’m sorry. She’ll be with you soon enough.”

  She holds the cup with both hands, tips it back, and finishes the milk in no time, letting out a belch that makes me laugh.

  I rinse the cup out and put it in the sink. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

  “Will you tuck me in?”

  “Sure.” I reach down, ruffling her curly hair.

  “Is my mommy bad, Quick Nick?”

  I hesitate.

  “What?”

  “Auntie Reese said Mommy made a big mistake, and that’s why she went away. Does that mean she’s bad?”

  Being around Millie, I’ve learned exactly one thing about kids—they’re unpredictable.

  Gathering my thoughts, I walk her back to her room, where she plops down on the bed.

  “I don’t know what your mom did or why, so I can’t say she’s bad. Everyone makes mistakes and does bad things sometimes. Even if she made a big one, it doesn’t make her a bad person, munchkin. She loves you very much.” I pull the blanket over her.

  “In my dream, my mommy was a bad person. And everyone thought I was bad because I’m her kid, and then I had to go away too.”

  My heart twists. This poor girl.

  “My parents both made mistakes as big as dinosaurs, Millie.” Hell, how many have I made? “No one made me go away because of that. They couldn’t. You can’t help what your mom does. And as long as you’re with us, you’re not going anywhere except here, the playroom, or your aunt’s apartment.”

  “Are y
ou sure?” Her eyes are big, gleaming with worry.

  “Certain. Mistakes aren’t the end. When you mess up one day, you just have to do better the next,” I say, my brain spinning off into the ether.

  Is my own ad hoc wisdom still an option for me? Can I just do better?

  And if I do, and I keep it together long enough, does all the fuckery in my past still matter?

  We’re both quiet for a minute.

  “Remember, this isn’t even your mistake. It’s your mom’s. No one blames you for that. Okay, Millie?” I lean over.

  She doesn’t answer, and I hope she’s convinced.

  Growing up with Ward, I know firsthand how much damage reckless parents can do.

  “Right, Millie?” I whisper, testing her.

  She’s snoring. Good.

  I sneak out, only to find Reese standing in the doorway. I stop by her, closing the door behind me.

  “You heard all that, huh?”

  “You’re a sweet man.” She brings her arms up around my neck, those delicate fingers tracing my skin.

  I’m not nearly as sweet as she gives me credit for. Because when she tilts her chin and goes up on her toes, I do nothing to stop her—or the raging hard-on aching to rip through my pants.

  I just inch closer, claiming her lips with a sound that’s no longer human.

  This is way beyond want.

  I could hold this woman prisoner for a year, hammering her for half the day, and I’d still need more.

  The kiss is long and sweet and too intense. My hands fall to her waist, grazing her shorts, fingers slipping down to heated skin.

  Fucking Aye.

  When she moves away, I hold her closer. She tucks her face into my chest, pale blue eyes riled, looking up at me.

  She’s so fragile, and she’s counting on me. That’s the only earthly reason I’m able to rip myself away.

  “Are you tired?” I whisper.

  “No.”

  “Grab your coat. We’ll sit outside on the balcony.”

  I grab a blanket from the hall closet while she walks away. When we go outside, I crank up the fire pit against the morning chill.

  We sit on the couch in front of the leaping fire and I spread the blanket over us.

  “What’s the plan?” she asks. “Besides revealing you’re a total sweetheart with kids?”

  I snort. “We’ll sit out here and talk until you’re tired.”

  “And if I never get tired?”

  “I’ll sit out here and talk to you until we watch the sunrise.”

  She pulls my arm around her, brushing her hair against me.

  “I’m cold. Keep me warm,” she pleads.

  “Temptress,” I grind out, tugging her closer.

  “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever watched a sunrise intentionally before,” she says, smiling at me.

  I level a stare at her. “If you’ve never watched a sunrise, then you haven’t had a good enough reason to stay up all night.”

  She smiles back. “That could change.”

  I like that idea.

  “I heard what you told Millie.”

  “I just hope it sinks in,” I say, raking my beard against the top of her head. “She was afraid people would think she’s bad because her mom made a mistake.”

  “What? That’s terrible. I’ll have to make sure she understands it’s not her fault, but I liked what you told her. What happens after mistakes is what matters.”

  “Right.”

  “Do you believe it?” She turns her eyes up in question. “Because I think you could benefit from that advice.”

  Her words echo my own thoughts from earlier.

  “Are you and Roland Osprey friends?” she whispers.

  “What? Fuck no,” I growl back, hating to have that asshole’s name caught in our moment.

  “Are you close to any of the half-wits who read his blog?”

  “A lot of employees read that blog, unfortunately. And not all of them are stupid,” I say with a sigh.

  “Well, if it’s anyone you’re not personally acquainted with, they need you. You don’t need them. The people who make the decisions that run the company are in your suite.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. We rely on a lot of talent to keep things going,” I tell her. “What are you saying?”

  “The people who matter in your life know you—the real you, Nick. They don’t care what the Tea says. You made mistakes. Everyone does. Guess what?” She pauses. “The other things you do matter. When your grandma got sick, you were there for her every day, sometimes more than Ward.”

  “To be fair, he ran half the company and managed the Winthrope deal the most. He also had the added complication of faking an engagement...” I chuckle at the memory.

  “Yeah. That was a mistake. I thought Paige was going to rip his head off.”

  “Was it?” I challenge. “He didn’t lie to her. She knew what she was getting into.”

  She’s quiet for a moment.

  “Either way, I bet they both wish he’d handled it a little better.”

  “What difference does it make? They got their happily ever after,” I say.

  She looks up, a pointed light in those baby-blue eyes. “Exactly. So what difference do your fake dates and internet scandals make? You can still be happy. Ward may have had a lot on his plate, but somebody needed to be with Beatrice while she was recovering, and more often than not it was you. You sign fat bonuses anytime you hear about an employee with a problem—”

  “How did you know that?” I ask, cutting in.

  She pulls the blanket closer to her chin and squeezes in closer to me. “It’s cold.”

  “We can go inside.” I hug her tighter, trying to keep her warm.

  “No, this is wonderful. Also, people talk.”

  “Huh?” I blink at her.

  “I’ve been in the break room and heard people talking about how you made sure this person or that got an extra bonus after pulling through whatever crisis.” She pauses and smiles with all the warmth I need tonight. “Everyone knows it’s you. Ward’s too aloof to be that good with people, and Paige isn’t in the office enough anymore to tip him off.”

  “He doesn’t object when he looks over accounting. He’d do it if he knew,” I tell her.

  “But you know. It’s okay that you’re not perfect. You have a good heart.”

  I wish it was all that easy.

  “You should be a shrink,” I tell her.

  “No way. I’ll stick with driving. When do I get to take the Maserati for a spin?”

  I bring my hands to her face, gingerly tilting her head back until we’re eye to eye.

  “It’s Saturday now. Later today, if you want.”

  “Oh, crap. I didn’t realize it was already tomorrow.”

  We settle into the twilight hours, her head on my chest, my arms firmly fixed around her. Every now and then, I run my fingers through her silky hair, trying to ignore how good it would feel to take it in a lust-driven fist.

  “Do you think we could bring Millie out tomorrow night and make s’mores?” she asks.

  Why didn’t I think of that?

  “Great idea,” I say. “I’ll make sure I’ve got the stuff here.”

  She tilts her head and gazes up at me.

  My eyes lock with hers and don’t let go.

  The blanket falls off us when she wraps her arms around my neck and hoists herself up, closer to my face.

  Kissing her out here, in front of the entire city, feels like the most natural act in the world.

  Her mouth tastes like peppermint and light and I want more.

  Reese repositions herself, straddling my lap, brushing the tip of my dick through my pants.

  Shit.

  She pushes her tongue further into my mouth, fluttering against mine, and I lavish it with a wolfish groan.

  Even through our fabric, her pussy radiates soft, pliable heat. I know if I reached into her shorts, I’d find her fucking soaked for me.


  I could take her right here.

  I could flip her over faster than I could blink, tear her bottoms off, and bury myself in her, but I won’t.

  Not tonight. Not like this. Not even if it brings relief from this eternal tease.

  She eases away, chest heaving, her bottom lip quivering.

  “Nick.” My name comes out of her with a weight, more moan than spoken word.

  Fuck, I want to do appalling things with her mouth.

  Too bad this woman thinks there’s something redeemable about me. I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best tonight. For her.

  So we cuddle and doze together, lost in this timeless night of cool restraint and flaring heat.

  I don’t come out of the trance until she’s illuminated by an orange light, her breath falling lightly against my chest.

  “Wake up, sweetheart. You’ll miss the sunrise,” I whisper, kissing her forehead.

  She turns, swiping at her eyes, to look over the skyline. I lock my arms around her, making sure she doesn’t roll off my lap, keeping her close to me.

  The sun slowly lifts over the Chicago horizon, splashing every towering building with a kaleidoscope of mellow light.

  “Take a pic with me,” I say, smiling into the dawn.

  “Why?”

  “Because moments like these are that rare.”

  She looks at me in wonder, her eyes searching mine.

  I reach for my pocket. My phone isn’t there. I left it on my nightstand.

  “Do you have your phone?”

  “No. I woke up to you and Millie talking and went to check on her. I didn’t even think about grabbing it,” she says.

  Damn.

  I’m not ruining this moment over a phone. It’s too perfect, even if there won’t be anything to capture it.

  After a minute, she asks, “Were you going to take a picture?”

  I pick up a strand of her hair and rub it between my thumb and forefinger.

  “I don’t have my phone either.”

  “You can go get it.”

  “Nah. I’m too happy where I am.”

  “Well. I’m happy where you are too.” She turns to me again, her sky-blue eyes trained on mine.

  Cupping her face with my hand, I lean down and devour her lips again, prolonging the best torture of my life.

  If I think of it as a glimpse, a preview, a promise that I’ll survive.