by Kelsie Rae
Shrugging, I voice the only conclusion I can come up with. “Your dad was making an awful lot of assumptions, and I didn’t think they were very fair to you.”
“My dad is always making assumptions,” he counters.
“Yeah. He is. And I’d bet he’s not always wrong about them, but I didn’t think it was right for him to say you’re a waste of space.”
“And what makes you so sure about that?” he pushes.
“You’ve told me what you do with your spare time. Where you go. Who you help. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t use the truth to defend yourself.”
Shifting his weight between his feet, he grips the back of his neck before muttering, “No one needs to know about that shit.”
“But if they did––”
“No,” he orders, staring at me with an intensity that makes me squirm. Sensing my discomfort, his voice softens, and his arm drops to his side. “They don’t need to know any of that. It shouldn’t matter what I spend my money on, or what I do with my time. It’s none of their business, Skye. All I want is for them to leave me alone and let me live my life. That’s it.”
Releasing a deep breath, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “And how do we do that?”
“We see this insane plan through.”
“And when you say that…what exactly do you mean? Because let’s be honest, when I stuck my foot in my mouth last night and said I was your fiancée, I didn’t really know what that would entail….”
“It means we’re getting married.”
“I don’t want to marry you. No offense but––”
“It’s not permanent,” he says dryly, rolling his eyes. “We’ll get divorced as soon as the inheritance is transferred. Then, we’ll go on our separate ways as if it never happened.”
A sour taste creeps into my mouth, so I fill my glass with more water.
“Why’d you spit out your drink at the thought of planning a wedding?” he continues as I take another big gulp from my cup. “I always assumed women would kill for that shit.”
“Most women do. When they’re marrying the guy they love,” I answer, emphasizing the word love. “You’ll have to excuse me if I’m not exactly gung-ho on seeing this sham of a marriage through. I was only planning on one wedding in my life, thank you very much.”
Stepping around the island in the center of the kitchen, he walks over to me until there are only a few inches of space between us.
“This one doesn’t count, Nanny. Hell, we might even be able to get it annulled if we’re quick enough. Then it’ll be like it never happened. You can save all the sentimental shit for your real husband while helping me out in the meantime. Do you think you can do that?”
I pull my lips into a thin line as I consider my options. My eyes go hazy as I weigh the pros and cons, staring blankly at the muscled chest in front of me. The feel of his calloused thumb beneath my chin sends tingles down my spine when he lifts my head to look up at him.
“Please?” he murmurs. It’s the sincerity that gets to me. The quiet gruff of his plea that turns me into mush. And the light flecks of green in his piercing gaze as he waits for my reply.
I can’t believe I’m actually considering this, but like he said, it isn’t permanent.
With a thick swallow, I nod. “Fine. I’ll go through with it.”
“Thank you. We should probably talk about my parents’ expectations….” His voice trails off, leaving me on pins and needles.
“And what expectations would those be?”
“Like I said before, hope you don’t mind planning a wedding.”
I groan before dropping my chin to my chest in defeat. “Why can’t we just get married in a courtroom or something down at City Hall? Isn’t that a thing? I think that’s a thing.” I get more and more excited at the prospect before I see him shake his head.
“It’s not a thing.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a thing.”
“It’s not a thing,” he reiterates. “At least, not for my family, anyway. I already tossed out the idea of you and me eloping to my dad, and he said it wasn’t an option. He wants to witness the whole shitshow with front row seats.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s my dad for you. Forever pushing people around to get them to do what he wants. It’s always been his way or the highway. Why do you think I disappear for months on end?”
“Good point,” I concede before tapping my finger against my chin and considering my options. “Hmmm….”
“You’re not going to get out of this, Skye. Might as well admit defeat and move forward.”
“Any chance you could convince him it’s the bride’s wishes?”
He scoffs. “Yeah, that’s not happening. I might be able to convince him that you only want friends and family, though.”
“I guess that’s better,” I admit with a sigh. “But that means I need to tell my family.”
Laughing, he grabs the glass from my hand and takes a quick swig of water before placing it on the counter and taking a seat on a barstool that was tucked under the center island.
“I didn’t even think about that. Do I get to meet the parents? Maybe ask your dad for his daughter’s hand in marriage?” With a wink, he rests his elbows on the counter and waits for my reply.
“I don’t know why you’d bother to ask him when you didn’t even bother to ask me,” I quip.
Another deep laugh rumbles throughout the kitchen, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Good point. Stacy took the ring with her when she stormed out last night. Good call on the whole grandmother’s ring, though.”
“Right? I’m just surprised your mom––”
“Stepmom,” he corrects me vehemently.
“Stepmom,” I mimic, “Didn’t notice it was from the mall. That would’ve been so embarrassing!”
He shrugs. “Nah. She doesn’t step foot in those, or at least not the ones you shop in, so you’re good. But you are going to have to get a kickass dress.”
Stomach rolling, I lean against the counter, mirroring his position with my elbows on the cool, swirling granite top. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin shopping for a dress that would win her approval, let alone pay for it.”
“Groom’s family is paying for everything, Skye.”
“You don’t have to––”
“Yes, I do. Do you know how big of a favor this is? What you’re doing for me? There’s not a chance in hell I’d let you pay a dime for any of it. It’s the least I can do.”
I peek up at him through my upper lashes, studying his chiseled expression for sincerity. “You sure?”
“Positive. I’ll get you my credit card later today. Just throw any wedding expenses on it. Not a big deal.”
Part of me wants to correct him. To say it’s his dad’s credit card since he’s the one footing the bill, but I don’t want to rub any salt in an already tender wound.
“You sure?” I press him again.
“Positive. We’ll have to find a wedding venue, caterer, and all that shit. Is there a time you can go?”
“Umm…do you mind if Brody tags along?”
“It’s not like my stepmom will step up and watch him, so do I even have a choice?”
I grin, seeing a bit of light in this crappy tunnel after all. If I can get Liam to finally see his little brother isn’t as tainted by his parents as he likes to believe, then this whole endeavor will be a giant win.
“Nope. I’m also going to need you to watch him today while I go dress shopping.”
Eyes narrowing, a very perturbed Liam weighs his options before muttering, “Do I have a choice in the matter?”
“Nope!” I repeat, a little more enthusiastically this time. I can barely contain my triumphant cackle. “Not unless you want me to show up in a garbage sack for the big day.”
“Pretty sure that would punish you more than me.”
I shrug. “You’re not the one we’re trying to please. It’s your father an
d stepmother that need to give their approval. Right?”
With a sigh, he waves his giant hand through the air, clearly dismissing me. “Go, get ready, and find a dress. I’ll watch the little shit today, but you owe me.”
“No, I don’t,” I tease. “You owe me. And you’ll keep owing me for the foreseeable future, my friend. Get used to it.” Scampering down the hall, up the stairs, and to my room, I catch myself grinning from ear to ear from our encounter.
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
Chapter Nine
Skye
Me: Hey! I need my sisters today. Who’s free?
Sway: I can be free. What are we doing, and what time?
Me: Shopping and in an hour.
Saylor: …you shouldn’t have told me it was shopping.
When I read my oldest sister’s text, a light giggle escapes me. I can almost hear her sarcastic tone through the message, and it only encourages my amusement. All the Swenson sisters are pretty free spirits, but Saylor is definitely the most uptight out of all of us. She wasn’t always that way. I blame stupid Owen Daniels for the mishap, but it is what it is. Ever since he left, she’s become the rule follower. The by-the-book girl. The why-spend-frivolous-amounts-of-money, what-about-our-retirement, kind of girl. Even though we were all left with pretty sizeable inheritances from my grandmother when she passed away, Saylor’s still very exact with her spending. Although I don’t blame her. An elementary teacher’s salary is pathetic at best. Thankfully, she loves what she does and doesn’t need to worry about her paycheck.
My fingers fly across the screen in reply.
Me: It’ll be worth it. Promise. I’ve got some juicy gossip and a credit card to pay for the whole thing. Mimosas anyone?
Sway: Yes, please! Where are we meeting?
Saylor: Fine…you had me at GOSSIP.
I grin.
Me: Meet me at the bridal boutique on Main, and I’ll give you ALL the details.
Sway: Ooo…I’m intrigued. See you in an hour.
Saylor: BRIDAL BOUTIQUE?! Why would we need to meet at a BRIDAL BOUTIQUE?!
Laughing, I type my response.
Me: See. Told you there would be juicy gossip. See you then!
I set my phone on the bathroom counter and strip down before turning on the hot water. When I first started watching Brody, I was living in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment a couple of miles away. However, I quickly learned that I’d be needed at the drop of a hat on a regular basis, and the late nights were starting to kill me. I expressed my concern to Mr. Davis, and he insisted on giving me a one-bedroom suite in his home––along with a killer raise––so they could use me at their discretion. I sensed their desperation and laid down a few rules. First, Sundays were mine. They were my sacred ‘me’ time, and I refused to let them tamper with it. Second, I had three weeks of paid vacation and could use it whenever I liked, as long as it was scheduled, and I gave them a decent amount of notice. And third, they had to take Brody on at least one of their vacations every year. Mr. Davis had rolled his eyes at the last stipulation, but I had a hunch that quality family time would be rare in their oversized mansion, and I wanted to encourage it in any way that I could.
He signed off on my peculiar conditions, and I moved in a few weeks later. I’ve been living across the hall from Brody ever since. Thankfully, his parents are tucked away in a suite on the main floor, so I still feel like I have a decent amount of privacy.
My mini-suite has a bathroom and a walk-in closet that’s perfect for me. The decorator chose soft purples, cool whites, and hints of silver as her palate. The combination gives the room a feminine feel without being too over the top. Once I’m in my birthday suit, I pad across the tile, and I hop in the shower. As I shampoo and condition my hair, my thoughts wander to a certain someone who seems to have a hell of a lot more secrets than I’d initially given him credit for. Let’s stick a pin in the fact that he’s been lying to his parents about his travels and focus on the little ruse I volunteered for. I didn’t do it on purpose. It just kind of happened. Still, I can’t help but ask myself how long will this charade go on? Am I really tying myself to someone I loathe? He drives me crazy. That cocky smirk that lets him get away with murder. Those stupid muscles that he isn’t afraid to put on full display for any woman with a half-decent libido. Those stupid gold flecks in his eyes that hint at a much deeper individual than the one he usually shows the world. And don’t even get me started on the dimples. Stupid dimples. They’re my Kryptonite.
With a sigh, I twist my hair into a long rope, wring it out, then let it hang down my back. After grabbing the soft gray towel from the rack, I dry myself off before heading to my closet. Reaching for a pair of jean shorts and a rose-colored T-shirt, I put them on then finish getting ready. Once my makeup is on point, and my hair is dry, I slip on a pair of sandals and head to the door so that I won’t be late to meet with my sisters. A black credit card with a Post-It Note sticking to it catches my eye. Curiously, I bend down and pick it up.
This’ll be the last bill my dad ever pays, so go crazy. Thanks again. - Liam
A smile stretches across my face before I can stop it as my eyes scan the chicken scratch handwriting that fits Liam way too well.
Go crazy? Challenge accepted.
After parking my car in an empty spot next to Sway’s white SUV, I open the driver’s side door and nearly have a heart attack when a hand hits the passenger window on the opposite side. Clutching my chest, my eyes wide in shock, I turn to the sound and see Saylor grinning from ear to ear.
“Gotcha!” she yells through the glass. I glare in return before exiting the car and pushing the lock button on the fob.
“Saylor, you scared the crap out of me!” I admonish.
She shrugs. “Meh. I owed you for leaving me hanging during our little texting session.”
“I did not leave you hanging.”
“Yes, you did,” she argues. “You dropped a big fat bomb by having us meet here, then didn’t respond to any of my texts that were begging for details!”
“Oh. That.”
“Yeah. That.” She rolls her eyes. “So, spill.”
“I will in a sec. Where’s Sway?” I ask. There’s no point answering her questions until I have both sets of ears.
Raising her hand, she points to the front of the shop. “She’s already inside. You know as well as I do that she’s dying for Anthony to pop the question and is probably already trying on dresses for herself.”
I nod. “Good point. I’ll tell you the juicy gossip when we get inside.”
“Deal,” she replies grudgingly.
The bell jingles on the door as we enter the small shop lined with white fabric along the gold-colored walls. Lace. Chiffon. Satin. You name it; they have it. There are a handful of mannequins framed in the window, and I take a second to appreciate the different styles of dresses the store has in stock.
Yup. Any of these will work like a charm.
“Hello. Can I help you?” a voice asks, stealing my attention from the mermaid cut dress hugging one of the mannequins. A woman in an olive-colored dress that makes her green eyes pop sashays toward us. With short, gray hair and soft laugh lines around her eyes, I immediately like her and open my mouth to say hi when Saylor looks at me pointedly.
Wait. Did she ask a question? Oh. Right.
“Oh, um…I’m looking for a wedding dress.”
“Congratulations! When’s the big day? I’m Lidia de Jager, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
I can feel my sister staring a hole through the side of my head, but I ignore her and focus on Lidia instead.
“Umm…,” I hesitate. When is the big day? I have absolutely no idea. Grimacing, I ask, “How soon can you have a dress ready?”
Her brows furrow in confusion before smoothing in the blink of an eye. If I hadn’t been paying such close attention, I’m positive I would’ve missed the look altogether.
Smooth, Lidia. Real smooth.
<
br /> Like a pro, she answers, “It depends on the dress and the alterations we’d need to make in order to fit your vision. Normally, we encourage our future brides to make an appointment so we can go over all the details. But I’m free right now, so it appears you came at the perfect time. What exactly are you looking for?”
“Umm….” Man, I’ve been saying that a lot today, I think to myself. Clearing my throat, I try to help her out and give her some direction on what kind of dress Liam’s family would find appropriate. “Something…expensive?”
That’s what Liam said, right? My face scrunches in distaste as soon as the word slips past my lips, but that’s what Liam ordered. Something expensive. Something his family would approve of. Still, the thought of spending someone’s money just to spend it makes me feel…dirty.
Since when did everything become about money? Since the Davis family entered my life. That’s when.
Lidia grins. “Let me pour you some champagne. We’ll get right to work.”
She raises her arm to guide us to the dressing room when I stop her. “Is there any way I could just share a room with my sister?”
“Sister?” Her gaze shoots to Saylor, but I shake my head.
“No, my other sister. Pink hair––”
“Oh! Yes, of course. The enthusiastic browser.” She winks. “She’s right this way. Already has a room full of options.”
I grin. “Brilliant.”
Turning on her conservative black heels, Lidia leads the way through a maze of clothing racks lined with ivory lace and tulle. When we round the corner, I notice an elegant chandelier hanging from the ceiling that gives a warm glow to the dressing area. In the center of the room is a small platform surrounded by mirrors. Two leather couches are placed a few feet from it, along with a side table that’s scattered with the latest bridal magazines. Saylor steps forward and grabs the closest one before tossing it at me.
