Perfect Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  Millie scoops it up, holds it out, and hugs it close to her chest with a warm smile. “I love you.”

  “It’s hers,” Nick says, standing next to me with a proud look.

  “What?” I meet his gaze.

  “It’s for Millie, Reese. All of it.”

  “What?”

  What the actual hell? When I knocked on Bea’s door, I thought maybe she was back. I never expected to find Nick flipping Brandt managing a playroom. Why?

  “Come on, have a seat.”

  Right. I’m still halfway in the doorway. I step inside, shutting the door behind me. It even smells like a candy store in here, as bright as the makeshift toys and kids’ furniture that looks like it belongs here.

  He crosses the room so we’re now toe to toe. “No need to thank me. I’m guessing if you found a babysitter, you wouldn’t be here with Millie.”

  “Well, you’re right. I came to work out what to do about tomorrow because...my hands are pretty full. I’m sorry. I’m a little shocked you took over her entire office.”

  “Grandma’s been out for a while. Touring conservatories she’s raising money for, that’s her latest thing. She hasn’t been back for more than a quick hello to boost morale for months,” he says.

  I can’t believe how calm he is.

  I can’t believe he did this.

  I cannot freaking believe he thinks this is okay.

  “I went to your office first. I was going to leave when you weren’t there, but I saw a shadow in here and thought maybe Beatrice was around,” I say, unsure how to even start freaking out about this...day care? Is that what this is?

  “You came to me? We’re making progress,” he says with his usual devil’s smirk.

  I actually crack a smile.

  “Bossman, who else would I go to about this?”

  He shrugs. “Most people go to Ward and then HR. Employees only come to me when no one else is around.”

  “Ward scares me and Susan is so—” What’s the word? “Nice, but by the book.”

  He grins. Not his usual master of the universe expression, it’s fast and almost vulnerable. Blink, and you’d miss it.

  “Thanks. Nice knowing someone trusts me around here,” he says.

  I don’t know how to respond to that.

  I trust him more today than I did last week, certainly, but he’s also made some epic mistakes.

  He’s still easier to talk to than Ward or HR right now. He knows my situation, and he hasn’t been subtle about coming to my rescue.

  “Well, back to the reason I’m here. I won’t be in tomorrow and I thought you should know,” I tell him, rubbing my folded arms.

  “If you had childcare, would you keep driving?” He cocks his head, staring me down.

  “Oh, of course. I never took an unplanned day off before at this job.” I don’t remind him how much driving relaxes me or how much it helps when I’m stressed to overload.

  He nods, surveying the room, his eyes stopping at Millie, who’s still on the floor with her unicorn.

  “I set all this up for you. It’ll be ready for the nanny tomorrow, bright and early. She’ll be available on an as-needed basis,” he tells me.

  “The what—”

  “Nanny. As delightful as the kiddo is, I can’t watch her myself with Brandt Dreams kicking off.” He gives me that stern look, as if he’s schooling me on something obvious.

  “I heard you. But this is kinda ridiculous...even if you’re trying to be nice. It’s way too much and I can’t possibly—”

  “Reese. This isn’t my guilt trip talking. This is karma.” He rolls his shoulders like he needs to limber up for his next sentence. “Remember what happened to Grandma last year? You drove us all over hell and back while she was in the hospital. You even helped take the weight off Paige’s shoulders a few times. Consider it payback. I mentioned it to Ward, and even he doesn’t have a problem with it.”

  My cheeks are about to combust.

  “That...that was my job, Nick,” I stammer. “None of this is yours, so I’m grateful, but—”

  “Whatever. Maybe it is the guilt again,” he offers. “Consider it one last apology for all the fu—”

  I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head at Millie, tossing her unicorn in the air and catching it.

  “For the fudge I melted all over your life when you first started,” he says so smoothly I laugh. “More importantly, you’re part of the team. Grandma considers you part of the family, and so do Ward and Paige. So do I. We’re all a thousand percent behind you. If this makes your life easier, just smile for me and let it.”

  There it is.

  That slow, winding fissure snaking through my heart. I swear I can feel it splitting in two.

  Tears I’ve been holding in all day finally come in this hot, silent, shaking rush.

  I turn, burying my face, fighting to stay quiet so I don’t worry Millie.

  I’m just crying because I’m overwhelmed and he’s too good to me. They all are, but there’s no mistaking who spearheaded this pop-up playground.

  I’m proud, but I’m also overwhelmed.

  I know nothing about taking care of a four-year-old. I have to do it because I can’t let Will take Millie or—God forbid—let her end up in foster care just like I did.

  You know what else is overwhelming? Finding out a man who shook me to the core with one brutal kiss, who made me a ploy to piss off his ex, just swooped in to save me. Multiple freaking times.

  If he’s a hero, he’s The Incredible Unexpected.

  But that wild card built like a wild animal is also my boss, and taking all of this help shouldn’t be so easy. It’s still extremely wrong, personal, and I don’t know how to just let down my walls and let him...

  ...let him take care of me.

  I might be sobbing a little because when he said this room with the slide and the stuffies were for Millie, I might have—just for a split second—hoped it had more to do with one nightmare date than work.

  But then he said the ultimate F-word—family—and any doubt was demolished.

  I’ve never had anything bigger than my sister and Millie.

  Until now.

  “Thank you, Nick...for everything.” Without thinking, I throw myself at him, burying my sobby face in his chest. The words barely come out.

  His warm arms fold around me, naturally protective. It’s been so long since that night I forgot how good he can feel.

  Danger. Danger. Danger.

  I’m in it.

  I keep my face against his chest a second longer, breathing him in, muffling my ugly cry sniffles before I pull back and look up.

  “S-sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  He wears a sly smile as he shrugs, his eyes twinkling like stars.

  “No biggie, Reese. How many times have I got to tell you to relax?” There’s a joke in his rough tone.

  I lean closer to him so Millie won’t hear me whispering.

  “Sorry about the whole Nick the Prick thing, too. I never should’ve started that.” I don’t know why I say it or what I’m expecting.

  Maybe for him to say we’re starting over. Again.

  Or for him to get defensive and rub his generosity in my face.

  This is Nick we’re dealing with, after all.

  But when we were close, I smelled his breath. It was clean, minty, nothing at all like the faint hint of last night’s booze I’d gotten too used to the first couple months I drove him.

  Come to think of it, he smells like that a lot, lately.

  Is he manning up? No longer getting drunk? Did that scare with Beatrice’s health straighten him up?

  Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

  Especially when he says, “I had it coming, Reese. You can quit making excuses for the times I let my inner idiot off its leash.”

  “I—I should get Millie home,” I say quickly, stepping away from him like I’m being blown by the wind.

  Actually, I need to get out of this tight spa
ce with his steel abs, ripped chest, and rogue beard, stat.

  “Can I bring the unicorn, Auntie Reese?” Millie whispers, tugging at my leg.

  “No, ma’am,” I say.

  But Nick says, “Sure,” at the same time.

  He looks at me, leveling those razor eyes that have officially seen too much of me.

  “Let her take it. She’s having a tough time, too.”

  Nope. Whatever he’s becoming, he definitely isn’t a total prick anymore.

  I’ll admit I hate him a teensy bit less after today.

  This whole time I’ve been stressing about how to handle everything on my plate ever since Abby got arrested. I’ve been too focused on pretending everything’s okay for Millie to recognize the fact that she’s just as terrified. Her life has been turned upside down like mine.

  Plus, the boss filled a whole room with toys for a reason, didn’t he?

  “Come on, Millie. We have to find some dinner and get you cleaned up. Grab the unicorn and let’s go,” I say, reaching for her tiny hand.

  “I wanna play! Your place don’t have toys, Auntie Reese...” she whines.

  “Take whatever you want home,” Nick urges, waving a hand at the bounty of toys.

  “No, we can’t spoil her that much. Then if she’s here with a nanny, she’ll just think it’s boring.”

  Nick gives me a slow look. “We’ll get new toys. Simple solution.”

  Millie’s eyes go wide and she drops the unicorn, pressing her little hands to her cheeks.

  “Oh my Gosh! A...a slide?”

  “Sure is, little lady.” Nick smiles and nods at her. “And if you’re good for your aunt tonight, you’ll get to come back real soon and use it as many times as you want.”

  So, nice guy or not, he’s still part Lucifer.

  The giddy smile Millie throws him reminds me he’s a natural charmer.

  “We’re lucky she just noticed it now,” I whisper before turning to her. “Okay, Millie. One time, and then we go.”

  She takes off, shooting up the steps, crawls across the bed, and goes tearing down the slide with her arms in the air. “Wheeee!”

  “See? She’ll be fine with the nanny,” he says, searing me one last time for today with that irresistible look.

  10

  Dollhouses (Nick)

  I sit down at the bar and lift a finger. “Give me a beer. Whatever’s on tap.”

  “Haven’t seen you here in a while,” Jeff says, flashing me his usual affable smile.

  “Has it been that long?” I try to sound friendly.

  I love this place, but I haven’t missed it much.

  “A couple months, at least. You used to stop by nightly. I’ll grab you that beer.” He scurries off.

  I should be proud. Mostly, I’m hoping I’ve finally reached the point where I can nurse a lonely beer without risking a descent back into a black hole.

  I glance at my phone to see if I have any messages from Reese.

  The silence shouldn’t bother me. Then again, the poor girl has so much beating her over the head it’s hard not to check in and see how she’s doing.

  I’m not about to crowd her, so I’m here for a drink and a distraction. To be among people and see the glinting city nightscape from another angle, rather than brooding at home.

  Jeff slides my drink over, and I nod in thanks.

  Before I’ve finished my third sip, he comes back, grinning like he’s got a winning pull tab. “The blonde in the corner wants to know if you’d like anything fancier than beer?”

  “Like what?” I snort, not even cracking a smile.

  Jeff chuckles. “Like her, I’m sure. She comes bearing gifts. That beats the hell out of dating apps.”

  Leaning forward, I poke one eye at the corner of the bar. A platinum blond with half her hair in a fancy bun on top of her head smiles and gives me a syrupy wave.

  When she raises her arm, her low-cut shirt sinks into cleavage, leaving nothing to the imagination.

  She’d have been the perfect distraction for Old Nick.

  Now? Now, her presence announces she’s the same dumbass mistake I’ve made too many times.

  “Tell her I’m good.” I look at Jeff.

  His eyes trail from me to her and then back again in disbelief.

  “Really? You sure?”

  I drain my beer halfway and nod. “If she keeps at it, get her a drink on my tab not to talk to me. The top-shelf stuff.”

  Jeff rocks back and whistles, scratching his stubble loudly. “Whoa. No wonder you haven’t been coming around. You’re busy with a lady friend, huh?”

  “She’s just not my type,” I say firmly.

  “A few months ago, she’d already be in your lap,” he says with a laugh.

  “Things change, but I will have root beer on my own tab.” I want to make sure this chick isn’t confused.

  He grins. “No worries. I’ll tell Blondie her next drink’s on me.”

  “Good luck.”

  Jeff holds out his fist, and I bump it.

  I scan through my phone, and I’m happy to see there’s finally an email from Sutton, my attorney, saying he’s connected with Reese.

  My root beer’s waiting in a frosted mug when I set my phone down, draining the last of the beer.

  In the corner, my would-be hookup is all smiles when Jeff hands her a hurricane. I chuckle to myself. Way to go, Jeff.

  A few minutes later, he’s in front of me again. “You’re Mr. Popularity tonight.”

  “Huh?”

  He veers his head to the other side of the bar. “The wallflower with the long dark hair holding the wine glass. She asked what you were drinking and if you’d like another. If you’re going to look at her, be subtle. It was a dare from her friends. She turned red and stuttered, trying to get through it.”

  I smile. “Tell her I’m flattered, I have a girlfriend, and she’s beautiful but I can’t accept the offer.”

  Fuck. I wonder who’s saying these words.

  “You sure you don’t want a quick look? She is beautiful. Women like her don’t just grow on—”

  “You heard me the first time.” I shake my head. “Let her down easy, Jeff.”

  He stares me down for a minute. “Okay, buddy. What’s going on?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’ve been here for over an hour, only had one beer, and you’ve been turning down drinks from smokeshow ladies all night. You got a girlfriend and you’re too chickenshit to say it?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You trying to con some chick into dating you? Playing hard to get?” His eyes are so huge it’s almost comical.

  “No,” I say.

  Jeff snaps his fingers. “Ah-ha! You took too long to answer. Who is she?”

  “No one. Look, I’m just trying to get my train back on its tracks after years of misdeeds.” I flash him a wink. “They were entertaining years, but they’re over now.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Mack.” He turns to fetch someone another drink.

  Not even five minutes later, he’s back.

  “Okay, bud. Last chance. This third girl looks like a fallen angel, and she has you pegged for a beer drinker.” He holds up a dark Trappist Belgian beer. My favorite. “It’s not what you’re drinking tonight, but she pinned you down, so I had to humor her.”

  Damn. I never realized women could be just as relentless as men.

  Even though I say nothing, he scans the bar so he can point her out. “Hmm. She was right over there, but I don’t see her now.”

  Before I can blink, an all-too familiar set of curves and medusa eyes slides onto the barstool beside me.

  “Oh, Nicholas. It’s so nice to see you again.”

  “You know her, I see. I’ll leave you two kids alone.” Jeff walks away whistling, leaving the Belgian beer in his wake.

  I face Carmen with my harshest dagger eyes.

  “What the fuck do you want? Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be in Hollywood?”

>   “You forget, I still own a condo here. This is home, Nick. I grew up here with you.” She surveys the room. “Nice hangout. I had no idea you were still being stupid, hanging around bars, drinking too much, doing stupid shit.”

  “I’m on my second drink. Root beer—and not the hard kind. Plus, some horrible woman wasted a Trappist beer on me,” I say, taking a defiant pull of my root beer.

  She purses her lips. “Hmm. Is she horribly pretty?”

  “If you’re into the Hollywood type,” I snap, making my preferences clear.

  It doesn’t stop her from asking, “Are you?”

  I glare at her. My tastes have changed. Apparently, my appetite craves short Midwestern girls with mahogany-brown hair and soft blue eyes begging to be claimed.

  Just remembering the last time I bedded Carmen—what little I can remember through the drunken haze then—triggers my gag reflex.

  “Not interested. Let’s cut to the chase. What do you want? It’s been over for a long time, and I think you know it. I also hope you know I’m not playing games—especially if you dripped anything to Roland Birdshit and his merry band of liars.”

  “I didn’t mean to say anything,” she says with a sigh. “After our last meeting I...I was upset. You know how slimy Mr. Osprey can be, how good he is at his good cop-bad cop thing. He’s not hard on the eyes, either. I just started talking.”

  Of fucking course you did.

  She winces sheepishly. My eyes drill through her.

  “I slipped up, Nick. I just—I hoped it would bring you to your senses. Or at least make you talk things out with me, which seems to have worked. You’re talking to me for the first time in ages—”

  “You slung champagne at me and slapped me across the face. You almost sent the fucking tabloid hounds after an innocent woman,” I snarl, slamming my glass down hard enough to get a few looks from bystanders.

  “Because you were with another woman! Duh. Who was the slut, anyway?” Carmen hisses.

  I form a fist so tight my knuckles go white.

  “Watch your forked tongue. She’s not what you think—she’s no one to you—and we broke up a long damn time ago. There was no reason she shouldn’t have been there, and even less for you to flip your shit and cause me a public spectacle that lasted for months.”