by Kelsie Rae
My breath catches in my throat when I see it, but I bite my tongue.
“Just the three of you?”
“Yup.”
“Well, then….” She grabs a small stack of menus. “Right this way.”
Leading us through a small maze of tables, Saylor’s eyes pop in a what the hell is her problem way, and I mouth later to her before we both follow Stacy to the table. Sway’s pink hair swishes back and forth across her back as she slides her butt across the booth’s seat to make room for me. I plop down beside her and reach for the menu when Stacy asks, “Did he send you here? To spy on me? To see if I’m heartbroken?”
My gaze shifts to my sisters surrounding me as an awkward silence hangs over the table.
“Umm….” My face heats to a thousand degrees. “Nope. Juuust having a girl’s night.”
“Thanks so much for your help,” Sway interrupts, clearly dismissing Stacy. “If we need anything else, we’ll let you know.”
With a forced smile, Stacy addresses my sister. “Of course. Tell Liam if he feels like groveling, he knows where to find me.” Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she disappears to the front of the restaurant, and I’m left with two gaping sisters.
“What the hell was that?”
“And why did she mention Liam groveling?”
I bite my lower lip. “Stacy may or may not be the girl Liam proposed to before me.”
Ugh. That sounds terrible.
“You mean, you weren’t the first girl Liam propositioned for this mess?” Saylor asks in disbelief.
I open my mouth to reply when the waitress appears out of nowhere and sets down three glasses of water, a small bowl of salsa, and a basket of tortilla chips.
Waving her hand through the air, Sway says, “Thank you. We’re going to need a minute to figure out our orders.”
“Oh. Of course. I’ll just be right over there.” The waitress points to a corner of the restaurant. “Just wave me over when you’re ready.”
We all nod in unison.
As soon as she’s out of eavesdropping distance, Sway squeaks, “Spill.”
“Liam knows I hate him, so he didn’t even consider asking me to be part of his crazy shenanigans. However, Stacy came over the night she was supposed to be introduced to the parents and demanded more money. Liam refused to play her little game, so she disappeared right before his parents were supposed to be home. Then, I overheard Mr. Davis being an absolute jerk to Liam, so I did something stupid and stepped into the role without considering the consequences,” I ramble, knowing I sound like a lunatic but unable to help myself.
“Oh, so normal Skye behavior then,” Saylor quips with a snarky grin.
I laugh. “Pretty much.”
“So, what was with the ring?” Sway interjects. “Did you see that thing on her finger?”
“Oh, I saw it. Pretty sure you could see that thing from space,” I bite out.
Chewing on her straw and deep in thought, Sway takes a sip of her water. “What do you think is going to happen when she finds out Liam is still engaged, but she’s not the bride-to-be?”
“I think shit’s gonna hit the fan. Which means Liam needs to know about it.”
“Yeah,” Saylor agrees, nodding. “I think you’re right.”
Chapter Eleven
Skye
My sisters and I spend the rest of the evening munching on salty tortilla chips, spicy salsa, and cheesy enchiladas. Despite the crappy hostess, the food is incredible, and I have every intention of going back.
As I pull into the driveway of the Davis residence, I notice the red BMW is missing and want to scream. Heart racing, I pull out my phone to call Liam when I see his message from earlier.
Liam: I told Brody I pissed you off. He said if I bought him ice cream, then he’d take care of it. So, now we’re going out for ice cream. Because that makes perfect sense.
Checking when the message was sent, and what time it is right now, I do the math and furrow my brows. Three hours for ice cream?
I read another message sent an hour later.
Liam: Oh. And make sure you get a few weeks off from watching Brody for our honeymoon. We’ll have to lay low for a little while after the wedding so we might as well do it in a foreign country. You have your passport, right?
Still frustrated at Liam, though I won’t admit his message has somehow managed to soften my annoyance, I pull up Brody’s number and hit the call button. It rings for a few seconds before a little voice answers, “Hello?”
“Hey, buddy! Where are you?”
“We’re––” Something cuts him off on the other end of the line. “We’re on our way home right now. See you in a minute.”
The call disconnects, and my suspicion spikes.
Staying in my car, I scroll through Facebook for ten minutes when the rumble of an engine grabs my attention. I glance out my rearview mirror, expecting to see a red BMW but am gifted with a view of Mr. Davis’ sleek, black convertible instead.
When he sees me staring at him, I raise my hand and awkwardly wave it back and forth. Giving me a reserved smile, he pulls into the garage, and I go back to playing with my phone when the thump of knuckles on the driver’s window makes me jump.
I roll down the window.
“Hi, Mr. Davis.” I smile, though it feels mechanical. And fake. Oh, so fake.
“Hello, Skye. Where’s my son?”
I almost ask which one but stop myself at the last second.
Clearing my throat, I reply, “He’s uh…he went out for ice cream with Liam, actually.”
The surprise written across Mr. Davis’ face is almost comical. But he’s not wrong for being a little shocked. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had the same face a few minutes ago.
“Really? Do they do that often? I mean, that’s great. I just always assumed Liam couldn’t waste his precious time by spending it with his only sibling.” The accusation is clear in his tone.
“There’re a lot of assumptions being tossed around by the Davis boys,” I mutter under my breath before saying a little louder, “But I think it’s great that Liam and Brody are hanging out, and I hope they do it more often. Don’t you?”
“Well, yes,” Mr. Davis concedes. “I think it would be a very good thing for them to spend more time together. Although, I don’t know if I should be offended by your remark about assumptions.” Giving me a pointed look, he waits for me to break the awkward silence that just filled the driveway.
“I just mean—”
“Tell me something, Skye. Why are you marrying my son?”
My mouth falls open.
Did he seriously just ask me that?
Scrambling, I try to recover with a bit of truth. “H-he’s a good man, Mr. Davis.”
“Is he? Because all I’ve seen is a spoiled brat with a chip on his shoulder.”
Wow.
I try to cover my surprise with a look of indifference, but I have no idea if I pull it off or not. After a few seconds, I admit, “That’s all I saw too for a long time. But then I learned a few things about him.”
“Like what?”
“Like what he really does when he’s on his little adventures, and how wrong our assumptions have been.”
Cocking his head, his gaze bounces around my face, trying to detect if I’m telling the truth. Unsure of what to think, he murmurs, “Get to the point, Ms. Swenson. You’ve piqued my curiosity, and I’d like to see where it goes.”
I smile at his brash comment, seeing more similarities between Liam and Mr. Davis than either of them would like to claim. “Liam hasn’t been wasting your money or his time. He’s been traveling the world and building schools, teaching kids English, purifying water, that kind of thing.”
His hand flaps through the air, clearly dismissing my comment. “Don’t be ridiculous, Skye––”
“I’m not being ridiculous, Mr. Davis. You know me. Do you really think I’d marry someone if they spent all their time spending their dad’s money and wasting their li
ves away? Not contributing to society?” I quirk my brow and purse my lips in a silent challenge. Mr. Davis and I might not always see eye to eye, but he knows I’m not a gold digger. And he knows I have my principles.
“You’re serious?” he prods.
I nod.
“Why wouldn’t he tell me this?”
“Maybe because you’ve already made your assumptions, and he’s tired of fighting them,” I offer gently. “I wouldn’t bother bringing it up with him; he’ll probably just deny it. But I do think you should cut him a little slack and get to know him better.”
Part of me wants to add that I think Mr. Davis wrote off Liam as soon as Brody was born, but I bite my tongue. No need to add fuel to the fire––or guilt to a chastised man. Who knows? Maybe it was even before Brody was delivered. I don’t know their history, but I do know the strain in their relationship is backbreaking.
“I’ll think on that. Have a good night, Skye.”
“You too.”
He takes a step back and heads inside while I roll up my window and wait for my fiancé and favorite six-year-old to finally make an appearance.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, there’s the red BMW that pulls into the driveway. Sitting in the front seat is a happy as hell six-year-old peering out the windshield. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a bigger grin plastered on his dimpled cheeks. It’s almost enough to grant Liam a free pass for letting Brody sit in the front seat without a booster chair. Almost.
Shoving open the passenger door, Brody skips around the front of the car, and I follow suit before calling his name.
“Brody!”
Recognizing my voice, he turns and runs to me, wrapping his arms around my waist in a tight squeeze.
“Hey, Skye!”
Squatting until we’re eye to eye, I ask, “Hey! Did you have fun today? How was ice cream?”
“So good! We got you a few presents. I told him you’ll like mine better, but he thinks you’ll like his.” Leaning forward, he whispers loudly, “He doesn’t know you as good as me.”
Laughing, I pull him into another hug. “You guys didn’t need to get me anything!”
A deep voice that definitely doesn’t belong to Brody grabs my attention. “I pissed you off. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that a good gift doesn’t hurt in getting a guy out of the doghouse.”
After a quick glance over at Liam, I grab Brody’s hand and tug him inside before tossing out, “Yeah, but it’s not a cure-all either. Let’s get you into bed, buddy. It’s been a long day, and I’m sure you’re beat.”
Brody’s head bobs up and down. “Okay.”
“Go brush your teeth, get into your jammies, and go potty. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Following my instructions, Brody climbs up the stairs and disappears from my view. Satisfied I’ll have a few minutes of privacy, I turn around and address my fake fiancé.
“You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“I know but––”
“No. I’m being serious. I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I’m not like the girls you’re used to dealing with. I don’t care about money, Liam. I care about honesty, being genuine, and looking at things from other perspectives. You assume I’m exactly like every other girl you’ve ever come into contact with, and I’m not.”
“Let me just show you what I got,” he argues, stepping into my personal space. The smell of spice follows him, and I have to restrain myself from leaning forward and taking a big whiff. His voice distracts me from doing exactly that when he continues, “I’ve been meaning to do it anyway, and I’m dying to see which gift you prefer since Brody was bragging that he was right when there’s no way that he could be.”
His last comment piques my curiosity enough to keep my feet glued to the floor when all I want to do is follow Brody upstairs, get him into bed, and spend my night with my nose in a good book.
I cross my arms and mutter, “Fine. Let’s see what you got. But only because I’d bet ten bucks that Brody’s right, and I think he deserves the bragging rights.”
Rolling his eyes, Liam’s hand disappears into the front pocket of his jeans to reveal a little blue box. I’m not an idiot. I know what it is. My face sours as I look around to confirm Mr. Davis isn’t anywhere in sight. Satisfied we’re alone, I put my hand on top of his to stop him from opening it.
“Don’t.”
“But you haven’t seen––”
“I already told you I don’t want anything like that.”
“But, we need to look engaged for real.”
Discouraged, I drop my hand to my side and sigh. “Speaking of which. I ran into your other fiancée. She’s still sporting her engagement ring. Might wanna break the news that you won’t be going through with it before it gets out that you have two women vying for your hand in marriage.” My tone is sarcastic as I turn to head up the stairs, but he stops me with a warm hand encompassing my forearm.
“Wait.”
Looking over my shoulder, I see his warm green eyes soften.
“I’m not going to back out if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Let me at least give you the other gift Brody insisted you’d prefer.”
My eyes drop down to his hand as it swallows my arm. His tatted fingers contrast with my unmarked skin, bringing an unsettling feeling of butterflies in my stomach at his touch. I shrug out of his grasp and shove aside said feelings because they have no place inside of me right now.
“What is it?” I ask quietly.
Using his other hand, he reaches into his back pocket. When I see the gift, a light laugh bubbles out of me, and I find myself grinning so hard that my cheeks hurt.
His deep chuckle joins mine as I grab the pack of bubblegum from him and tear open the pink wrapping. Popping a piece into my mouth, I hold his gaze with my own.
“Brody wins,” I announce. “It’s the little things that make a girl’s heart want to burst, Liam. The gifts with thoughts behind them and not dollar bills. Goodnight.”
I skip up the stairs while chewing my gum, prepping it for some epic bubble blowing. I can’t believe that something so simple completely turned around my evening, especially when I remember that stupid blue box. I shrug it off. By the time I reach Brody’s room, I’ve got a decent-sized bubble the size of a softball protruding from my mouth.
With a knowing smile, Brody brags, “I told ya I’d win.”
The bubble pops as I walk closer and sit on the edge of his bed. “Always, buddy. Always. Did you have fun today? For real?”
“Yeah.”
“What’d you do?”
“We swam. He showed me how to do a better cannonball. Then we watched Jurassic Park like I told you. Then we went shopping for a present for you and got ice cream. Did you like his present too? Or just mine?”
His eyes light up at the prospect of beating his older brother at something. I can barely hold in my laugh as I lean forward and whisper, “Just yours. We both know I’m not a flashy girl.”
“Nope.” He grins. “You’re not like Mom. That’s all she ever wants. She won’t even buy bubblegum for me. Says it’s too messy.”
“Life isn’t fun without the mess.”
“Does that mean you’ll buy me more slime?” he asks, hopefully.
This time, I can’t hold in my laughter. I drop my head back to look up at the ceiling. “You and your slime. Go to bed.”
“Is that a yes?”
Planting a quick kiss to his forehead, I shake my head. “That’s a, ‘you’re crazy for even asking.’ Your mom hates slime, remember?”
“But, Skye!” His puppy dog eyes are on full display as he sticks out his lower lip and begs like it’s an Olympic sport.
Scrunching up my nose, convinced I’m going to lose my job one of these days, I whisper, “Don’t tell your mom.”
“Yes!”
“Shh!” I cover hi
s mouth with the palm of my hand, chuckling under my breath. “Now go to bed. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Goodnight, bud.”
“’Night, Skye. Love you!”
“Love you too.”
Chapter Twelve
Liam
I can almost hear Skye’s ring taunting me as it sits on my dresser in the corner of my room. I glare at it before laying on my mattress with my phone in my hand. The guilt from my lie eats at my lower stomach, but I shove it aside. I have one goal, and I need to focus on it. Get my inheritance. Get out from under my dad’s thumb. And live my life. I don’t care who I have to climb over or use to get it. Even if she’s an enigma.
My eyes find the damn Tiffany box again.
Groaning, I reach for my phone and dial Stacy’s number.
It rings once before a breathy voice answers, “I was wondering when you’d call.”
“We need to talk.”
“Obviously.”
“I’m going to need you to take off that ring. You can keep it for your time, but when you walked away, you forfeited the right to call me your fiancé. The deal’s off.”
A quick gasp echoes through the speaker. “Excuse me?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I mutter, “I don’t see how you can misunderstand what I just said. The deal’s off, Stacy. You’re going to have to find another sugar daddy to spread your legs for.”
“Oh, I heard you loud and clear. Look, I’m sorry I was a little bitchy last time we spoke. I’ve given it some thought and––”
“No,” I cut her off. “It was a mistake. I’ve found a different solution. Like I said, keep the ring. Pawn it off or something. But I don’t want to hear a single word about you telling people we’re getting married. It’s not happening. Understand?”
“And what if I do? What are you going to do about it, Liam?”
My anger spikes at the threat. Breathing deep, I count to ten before replying. “I’ll tell everyone about the cocaine you keep in your purse that you like to slip to high-paying customers at La Cocina.” Another soft gasp echoes before I add, “Keep your over-injected lips shut, or there will be consequences. You’re not the only one who knows how to find dirt on people. Goodnight, Stacy.”
