Charming Jane_A Reverse Harem Romance

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Charming Jane_A Reverse Harem Romance Page 21

by Kristin Coley


  “It’s a surprise.” He flashed me a playful smile, and I narrowed my eyes. He was entirely too happy for … I glanced at the clock and had to look twice … seven in the morning. I dragged myself out of bed, knowing if I didn’t get moving, we’d be headed out the door with me in my pajamas.

  I pulled a brush through my tangled locks and splashed water on my face to wake up. I’d become accustomed to sleeping late, since we ate so late with Michael each evening. I didn’t know how Ian and Michael managed. It seemed like they both operated on less sleep than normal folks.

  I went to the closet and stared inside before going back to the living room door. I poked my head out and asked, “Pants or skirt?”

  His expression indicated an internal argument, but he finally answered, “Pants.” I ducked back in and found my only pair of jeans. I paired a short sleeve shirt with them and, at the last second, grabbed a lightweight long sleeve shirt to throw over it, if necessary. A surprise arranged by Ian could mean anything.

  A flash of white on the nightstand caught my eye, and I grabbed the envelope sitting there. Michael had given it to me the night before saying it was my first paycheck. To be honest, I’d forgotten they were paying me to be there and ‘babysit’ Ian. We’d gone so far past employer and employee over the past few weeks. I had yet to decide if I should just give it back to him. They’d paid for everything so far: Clothes, food, housing, and everything in between. I grinned, remembering when I’d needed feminine products and how Ian’s face had blanched when I told him. He’d shoved a hundred dollar bill at me and stood outside the corner drugstore while I went in. He refused to accept the change either, telling me to keep it, in case anything else came up. By anything else, I imagined he meant anything he didn’t want to have to think about.

  I shoved the envelope in my pocket and figured I’d ask Ian’s opinion later.

  When I came out of my room, Ian was rocking on his heels, a to-go cup and pastry bag balanced in his hand.

  “About time.”

  “You could have told me last night, and I would have set an alarm,” I retorted, snatching the bag from his hand and sailing out the door.

  “I was letting you sleep. I was being gallant.”

  “Then you can’t make snarky comments about how long it takes me to get ready.”

  The valet was entirely too chipper as he handed Ian the keys, but I ignored him as I opened the bag and smelled cinnamon.

  “Ok, you’re forgiven.”

  “I hadn’t realized I needed to be forgiven,” he remarked with a wry smile.

  I attempted to talk around the bite of muffin I’d stuffed into my mouth. “You don’t, not really. Giving you a hard time.” A few crumbles escaped as I spoke, and he fought a laugh as I covered my mouth with my hand. A hard swallow cleared my throat, and I bit my lip, embarrassed.

  “There was a reason my mother taught me not to talk while chewing.”

  “And yet, I’m still utterly charmed by you, even as you spit food out of your mouth.”

  A laugh choked out of me as I handed him a muffin.

  “I imagine Michael would have a different opinion.”

  “I would be interested to see if he said anything. I believe you can do no wrong in his eyes.”

  “Ha. Matter of time. But that reminds me.” I dug the envelope out of my pocket. “Michael gave me this yesterday. Said it’s my paycheck for the first month.”

  “That’s good. Did you want to stop by a bank and deposit it?” Ian asked as he drove us out of the city.

  “I don’t know. I was thinking about giving it back to him.” I held the unopened envelope gingerly as Ian cast me a curious glance.

  “Why would you do that, love?”

  “It doesn’t seem right to take it. You’ve taken care of me, and I enjoy spending time with you.” The last part came out a little awkwardly, and I avoided looking at him, instead staring out the window at Lake Pontchartrain. Apparently, we’d seen everything New Orleans had to offer and were now branching out for our adventures.

  “But the agreement was you would be paid, love. We don’t want you to feel beholden to us.” He reached over to take my hand. “The money ensures you don’t feel obligated. Michael and I want you to have your independence.” I nodded mutely; still unable to shake the uncomfortable feelings I had about taking the money. I felt the weight of Ian’s gaze, but didn’t look up. “Bollocks.”

  The car whipped to the side of the road, startling me, and he put it in park.

  “Now, look at me, and explain what’s going on in that head of yours.” He’d twisted in his seat to stare at me, and I knew we weren’t going anywhere, not until he’d gotten his explanation. I met his eyes and felt foolish, even before the words crossed my lips.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m here because I’m getting paid.” I could see the furrow between his eyes as he tried to puzzle out my words.

  Technically, I was there because I was getting paid. That had been the agreement; at least, until I’d actually gotten paid and known Ian’s story. “I enjoy my time with you. I don’t think of it as a job or babysitting. Taking money for spending time with you feels wrong. Mainly, because I couldn’t think of a better way of spending my summer than with you, and Buster, and even Michael.” My eyes fell, unable to hold his as I said it, and the envelope was looking worse for wear as it crumpled slightly under my grip. “Plus …”

  “What, love? What else has got your knickers in a twist?”

  The soft lilt caused a slight smile to twist my lips before disappearing with what I said next. We hadn’t spoken of Ian’s story since that night, but it never left the periphery of my mind.

  “She took money to abort your baby. I don’t want to be the girl who takes money to spend time with you.”

  “Ah,” he groaned softly and tilted my chin up to look in my eyes. “Not the same, love, not the same at all.” I gave him a look, and he smiled gently. “I may be a bit broken, but I can tell the difference. You are nothing like she was. I’ve never told that story to anyone before, but I told you. I trust you, and not for one second do I think you accepting money you were promised is anything like what she did.”

  The knot that had formed in my stomach loosened slightly with his words. I didn’t want him to think I was anything like the woman that had betrayed him so completely. The check in my lap meant nothing to me.

  When we’d first met, I hadn’t known them, and staying with them had been a risky move on my part. The concept of a job had made it acceptable to my mind, but I’d had no way of knowing how incredibly important these men would become to me, or how honorable they truly were. Now, this check felt like nothing more than a burden.

  “I don’t want it,” I admitted quietly. “I don’t want the tiniest implication that I’m here for any other reason than because I want to be.”

  “And I respect that. But you must remember that Michael is a man of his word.” Ian gestured to the check. “This is him keeping his word. If you wish to renegotiate terms with him, that is up to you. But for now, he would be insulted if you didn’t take what he felt was owed to you.”

  I blanched at the idea of ‘negotiating terms’ with Michael. It would be a bloody disaster, and Ian laughed when I told him as much.

  “I wouldn’t want to be in your position, that’s for sure,” he replied, giving me one of his characteristically lopsided grins. I gave him a mock frown in return, my attention drawn back to the envelope. “Open it, love. Donate it. Save it for college. Heck, cash it and toss it from the balcony. I really don’t care, but if you do go with that option, let me know so I can watch.”

  I giggled, and then belly laughed at the thought.

  “Michael,” I hiccupped, “His face.”

  “I would pay to witness it,” Ian confirmed. “Buster as well.”

  “He would never forgive me,” I snorted, picturing the horror on Michael’s face at throwing money out the window. Not that I ever would. It didn’t feel like my money an
yway.

  “Doubtful. He cares for you as much as I do. Buster as well. You know that, right?” His words had my heart racing as the logical part of my mind screamed at me how insane it all was. How could I love three men at the same time? Want them all equally, but for vastly different reasons?

  But my heart knew.

  It didn’t care what others thought, only that love was a gift, and if I was lucky enough to love three men and they returned that love, then I better hang on to them.

  Sometimes, love showed up when it was least expected. We could blame timing or a million other things for why it didn’t work out, but in the end it was a choice. And as I stared into his grey eyes and watched the color darken with emotion, I knew I’d always choose them.

  The air around us was thick with the weight of our emotions. The sheer effort of breathing was impossible as we stared at one another. My hand clenched, and the crackle of paper broke the spell as I attempted to crush the envelope.

  “Perhaps you should go ahead and open it,” Ian said, as the spell was broken, and we glanced away from one another. I nodded distractedly, my finger tucked under the edge of the envelope to rip it open.

  Inside was a letter with a folded check.

  Jane,

  You probably have questions. If you don’t, then you probably haven’t looked at the check yet.

  I paused here and unfolded the check. My eyes narrowed in puzzlement at the blank amount. He’d made the check out to me, signed it, but left the amount blank.

  I’m sure you’re curious as to why I haven’t filled in the amount. I can assure you, it wasn’t an oversight. I’ve done the research to determine what you should be paid. I’ve studied comparable salaries and taken into consideration the fact that Ian is an adult. I also researched salaries for addiction counselors. (Not that I believe my brother is an addict, but it was the closest position I could find that somewhat fit our situation.)

  Ian laughed as I read this aloud.

  I also considered the fact that housing and food were provided, along with incidentals. It took some time, but I finally came to an amount that seemed fair, according to market standards. So the question remains … why is there nothing written in the amount?

  It’s because, in the end, I could not place a dollar amount on your presence in our lives. The number I’d come up with seemed entirely too low, considering the profound effect you’ve had on us. But, as I considered increasing the amount, none seemed suitable, and I finally came to the conclusion that you are invaluable to us. Undoubtedly, Ian and Buster would agree.

  I sniffled and Ian handed me a napkin from the pastry bag.

  “I do agree with him,” Ian murmured, and I nodded, reading on silently.

  You are welcome to write in any amount you consider fair. I wish for you to know that you will always have your independence, should you remain with us. Neither my brother nor I ever wish for you to feel indebted or trapped. This check is yours and should you choose not to write in an amount (something I’ve learned is entirely plausible with you) then keep it. It will always be honored, should you choose/need.

  You are family.

  Michael

  I sighed as I finished reading, holding the check gently now, as I realized it represented conflicted emotions not only for me but also for Michael. He’d understood the struggle I would face, because he’d felt it himself. How do you put a price on family?

  “Are you alright, love?”

  I threw my arms around him and felt his start of surprise.

  “I’m perfect.”

  He settled his own arms around me, giving me a warm hug, and I swallowed back the last of my tears. Michael’s thoughtfulness had lifted the weight from my heart, and I was now ready to enjoy the day with Ian.

  “So, where are we going?”

  Ian gave me a bright smile as I sat back in my seat, and he put the car in gear.

  “You’re going to love it. I promise.”

  That evening, we returned to the hotel to find Michael already there. Surprised, I checked the time to see it was just five o’clock, and he normally didn’t come in until after seven.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, worried.

  “Fine,” he replied, closing the paper he’d been reading, and I spotted a cup of tea next to him. “I finished my business meetings early and thought I’d relax a bit before dinner.” He smiled and flicked a finger at us. “And what have you two been up to?”

  I glanced back at Ian, whose eyes sparkled from the day’s adventure, and let him tell Michael what we’d been up to.

  “An airboat ride, brother. They put a giant fan on the back of a boat, and you fly over the water and land. It’s quite the adventure.” Ian stole a biscuit from Michael’s plate, causing him to raise an eyebrow before he reached over to tap my nose. “Is that how you came to be sunburned then?”

  I wrinkled my nose, and felt the tightness. “Yep. We also saw alligators. They ate marshmallows.” I nodded, pulling out my phone. “I have pictures.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Michael answered dryly. He poured us each a cup of tea, and I took it reluctantly. Hot tea was not my favorite, no matter how often Michael pushed it on me, but I was thirsty.

  “Oh!”

  “Yes?”

  “We got you a gift.”

  “Hmm, how thoughtful. I can only imagine what it is.”

  Ian and I exchanged a glance as I handed Michael the bag. Buster wandered over, sliding his phone in his pocket as he observed. Michael opened the bag, his forehead furrowed as he saw what it was. He pulled the long handle out and glanced at us.

  “What in God’s name is this contraption?”

  “It’s an alligator claw back scratcher!”

  “I’ll cherish it forever,” he said politely, cracking us up at his martyred expression.

  He grimaced, shoving the gift back in the bag. Buster reached for it, snagging it quickly and immediately putting it to use.

  “See, Buster understands it’s value,” Ian told him, gesturing to Buster’s broad back. “At least someone appreciates our generosity.”

  “Are you quite finished? We have things to discuss,” Michael snapped, unamused. Buster lowered the alligator claw slowly, his forehead wrinkled.

  I straightened up and elbowed Ian to do the same. Michael sounded serious, which was completely normal, but it just meant you had to pay attention to everything, because you never knew when it actually would be something serious.

  I wondered if he’d mention the check, but no, he didn’t. I should have known. It wasn’t Michael’s way to discuss matters he’d already settled.

  “Apparently, this weekend is a popular American holiday,” he started, and I nodded.

  “Fourth of July. Independence Day.”

  “Ah, yes. The day the upstarts signed a document saying they were no longer loyal British subjects,” he added, the irony not lost on me.

  “Another way of looking at it.”

  “We’ve been invited to observe fireworks on the Mississippi river, in celebration of the event.” I clapped my hands. I adored fireworks and knew they’d be beautiful from the river. “Based on your excitement, I take it you’d like to attend?”

  “Yes,” I replied emphatically. Ian rested a hand on the back of my chair, his thumb idly stroking my shoulder. I was thrilled at the thought of watching the fireworks with them. “Are we riding a steamboat?” Ian and I had taken a steamboat ride on one of our many tourist jaunts, and I’d enjoyed it immensely.

  “I couldn’t say, but I would imagine so. If not, it can be arranged,” Michael answered, and I shook my head. I had no doubt Michael would charter a steamboat to watch the fireworks if I desired it, but it wasn’t necessary.

  Ian chuckled at the quick shake of my head.

  “What day is it then?”

  “Saturday. Which is tomorrow, for those of us who keep up with the days of the week,” Michael replied with a toothy smile.

  “I can’t wait,” I said gle
efully, snitching a mini quiche from the tea tray. I was starving, even after eating half the marshmallows on the boat ride, and knew dinner would be late, if Michael was taking tea at five.

  “I’ll ring for another tray,” he offered as we devoured the remnants of his tea.

  “Good call, brother.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next day dawned bright and clear, with no chance of rain to interrupt the night’s fireworks. Michael surprised us by spending the day with us, and I made it a point for us to go to the St. Louis number one cemetery. Ian read from the guidebook, and the stories he told were so unbelievable we took the book from him, insisting he was making them up. Turned out he wasn’t, and the creepy stories were true; or at least confirmed by the book.

  “Glad we have the fireworks tonight,” I said with a shudder. “I don’t think I could sleep after that.”

  “You aren’t bothered by things that go bump in the night are you, love?”

  “It’s the living that make me nervous,” I replied as he bumped my shoulder. Buster threw his arm around me and squeezed gently.

  “No worries, lass. We’ll keep you safe from all that wish to harm you.”

  Michael’s gaze was abstract as he took in the cemetery. “It truly is a city of the dead.”

  “The cemetery or the actual city?”

  “Both,” he answered, sending another more superstitious shudder through me.

  That evening, a driver dropped us off in front of the Riverwalk, and golf carts stood ready to take us to the steamboat. After checking with me, they waved off the offer of the golf cart, and we strolled toward the boat. The evening’s attire was a little less formal, and I wore a red, knee length dress, the material lightly shimmering in the light. Ian and Michael had given a nod to the American holiday by wearing white and navy shirts, respectively. Together, we were the embodiment of patriotism. A thought I found amusing, since they were British.

  The night was clear and, even with the city lights; I could see a few stars peeking out.

  “There is nothing like the stars at night when you’re far away from the light pollution of a city,” I said, trusting Ian to guide me as I looked up. “They’re huge and bright. So many more than you can see here. It’s as if there are millions of pinpricks of light shining through a deep blue carpet.”

 

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