Chapter Ten

Callie

When Gray tells me he wants to take Emery out for dinner alone, I try not to read too much into it. Ever since he came home and saw me on the trampoline, it’s like he’s trying his hardest to keep his distance from me. When he walked into the yard, he froze, his body tensing, his forearms looking like they might explode with the strain. His jaw was clenched.

Then he got pissed , withdrawn, surly. I don’t know what happened. It’s like he resents me for some reason.

I eat alone in the guesthouse and call my best friend, Katerina. Heck, she’s probably my only friend since anybody I ever had ties to still exists inside Josh’s upside-down, topsy-turvy world. I met Katerina through the nanny agency.

“What’s up?” she asks, her accent tinged beautifully with her native Greek.

“Nothing,” I murmur. “Just bored.”

I’m lying on the most comfortable couch in the guesthouse’s living room, staring up at the exposed rafters, my feet crossed. I should be taking this time to catch up on sleep and relax. It’s so much quieter without Emery stomping around the place with all her inquisitive questions and unstoppable energy. There’s this hollow feeling in my chest. And I can’t stop thinking about the way Gray stared at me.

“Do not lie to me, Callie-kin,” she says, using the nickname she invented the day she learned that the word kin meant family. She hasn’t stopped using it since. “If you’re bored, you text. There’s something else.”

I swallow, then almost deny it, but she’s right. I wouldn’t have called her if boredom was the only reason. I wanted her to guess something was up.

“I’ve got a crush on my boss,” I murmur.

She sighs, then tuts. “This is not good.”

“I know.”

“How bad is this crush?”

“Well, seeing as I’ve never really crushed on anybody, I’d say it’s pretty bad. And the thing is, I think he sort of likes me too. At least, I did, until earlier.”

Another sigh. “Explain.”

I tell Katerina everything, from the looks Gray and I have shared, to the tension, then finally the gym. “But you see how this is all on the edge , right? I mean, the gym—that’s obvious. To me, at least. It was sexual. But we had a reasonable excuse. And now, it’s as if he’s angry at me for making him lose his head. It’s like he blames me.”

“Do you want to sleep with this man?” she asks bluntly.

“Kat…”

“It’s a fair question, no?” she says.

“You know I’m not exactly experienced when it comes to that.”

“I’m not talking about experience,” she counters. “I’m talking about want .”

“I don’t know,” I murmur, biting my thumbnail. “I guess, on some level, yeah, I do. But I also know it’d be the biggest mistake I could make. And I don’t like feeling this way. It’s like he’s in my head. Like I’m not in control .”

“And you need to be in control,” she says, needing no further explanation.

“After everything, yeah, I do,” I tell her. “I can’t let him get into my head. I can’t let myself care too much especially after he went all cold today. What if he makes me care, then suddenly turns cold, and I turn into Mom, hanging off Josh’s every word, letting him treat her like crap? I can’t risk this job, either. It pays well. I can support Dad. I don’t have to pay rent. Emery is a dream. It’s the perfect job.”

“Then you have your answer, Callie,” she says. “Tell your feelings to go bye-bye and be a big girl. If you want company, buy a vibrator.”

A laugh explodes from me, releasing so many good-happy chemicals I have a warm glow. “Kat, that’s too much!”

“They’re simpler than men, easier to maintain. You don’t have to worry about falling in love with it. It’s a win-win.”

“Life was easier before I felt anything ,” I murmur. “I honestly thought the place had broken me. And then that stuff with Jorge… I thought I was put off men for life. But with Gray, it’s weird. We share these moments where neither of us acknowledges it, but I’m sure they’re special to him, too.”

“These are the kinds of ideas you need to get out of your head,” she says.

I sigh. “Yeah, you’re right… But that’s easier said than done.”

“It won’t be easy,” she agrees. “Still, you have to do it. Or you lose this job because you make things messy. You can’t pay your dad’s rent. He goes back to that place. Maybe you have to beg that pig Jorge to take you back or refer you to one of his rich friends. There are far more negatives than positives.”

I sit up, clench my jaw, nod, and then nod again. It’s like I’m trying to convince my mind by making all the correct movements with my body, like how, if you smile, apparently, it forces your brain to be happy. “You’re right. Thanks, Kat. From now on, I’m going to be professional. No more weird gym stuff.”

“That’s more like it!”

***

Later that night, there’s a knock on the door to the guesthouse. My heart melts when I see Gray holding a half-awake Emery in his arms. She’s got her arms wrapped around him, but she’s turned toward me. Her eyes are closing, but she’s struggling like heck not to collapse.

“ This one seems to think she has a story in her,” Gray says, smiling lovingly down at his daughter.

“I—have…” Emery yawns. “C-A-L-L…”

I laugh. “Maybe a few pages, huh, to help you sleep? Not that you look like you need help.”

“A few pages,” she murmurs.

“Shall I?” I offer my arms to Gray, indicating I’ll hold her.

Gray looks down at me with his piercing eyes, but he seems less annoyed than earlier—less like he wants to take my head off. His moods are giving me whiplash. At least, they would be if I cared about them anymore. After the conversation with Kat, I’m determined to be cold. Professional.

I almost stumble at the first hurdle when he hands me Emery, and our hands touch. That’s it. It's just a simple brush of our skin, but the contact is electric. At least I can use his daughter as a shield this time.

“Has she brushed her teeth?” I ask.

“Yes,” Emery mutters.

Gray smirks. “Nope.”

“I’ll handle her bedtime routine, too, if you like?”

“Thank you, Callie.”

“It’s my job.”

He flinches and then tilts his head. But then his smirk vanishes, replaced with — not a sneer. Not a grimace, but no longer a smile, either. I carry Emery into the house, into her en-suite, where she dutifully brushes her teeth before throwing her arms up at me. My heart throbs with a million maternal instincts as I carry her to bed.

“Is this the book you’re reading?” I ask, picking up a paperback with a dragon on the cover.

“Hmm,” she mutters, nodding.

“Should I carry on?”

“Hmm,” she says again.

I read for a few minutes. It doesn’t take long for her to drop off. But I almost wake her when I turn to find Gray leaning against the door. I put my hand to my chest, just about stopping the surprised yelp from escaping me.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay,” I tell him.

“It’s just nice, you know, seeing somebody read her a story.”

Don’t start wishing me into the mother she never had , please . “She’s an imaginative little girl,” I say.

“It’s more than that. You bring the story to life for her. She couldn’t stop talking about you at dinner. She kept asking why you weren’t there with us.”

We walk down the hallway together, side by side. I try to tell myself it’s imposing, creepy, annoying, but it’s none of those things. He’s nothing like Jorge or Josh. It feels almost protective, the way he stands so close I can feel his heat, smell his manly scent.

“What did you tell her?” I ask.

“That you deserved a break.”

“I haven’t really done much this evening,” I murmur as we walk down the stairs. “If you ever want me to tag along, that’s fine wi—”

I don’t think I’ll ever understand how I tripped. It’s like one second, I’m fine, then the next, I’ve got the balance of a drunken klutz. I yelp, reaching for the banister. Then Gray pressed his firm, hard body against mine, hugging me close to him and spinning us so that if we were to keep falling, he’d be the one to take the impact. He holds us steadily.

“You need to be more careful,” he says, voice gravelly, his warm breath whispering over me. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. What are you doing?” He turns me toward him, his hands on my shoulders, holding me tight as if he wants to make a point. But what point? “Seriously, what are you doing? ”

“I didn’t slip on purpose,” I whisper, noting on some level that I should be scared right now. My very tall, muscular, older employer is suddenly acting possessive and weird. He’s got an accusing tone, as if he thinks I threw myself down the stairs to… to what, to make him save me, to be his damsel?

I turn away, both relieved and disappointed when he lets me go. My shoulders tingle from where he touched me, remnants of the closeness. I walk down the stairs quickly, sure I can feel his eyes on me. That’s nothing new. Ever since I walked into this house, I’ve felt his eyes watching me. It became achingly real after the gym incident.

“Wait.” He jogs after me, putting his hand on the door before I can yank it open. “I didn’t mean to freak out like that. I just don’t like the idea of you faceplanting and seriously hurting yourself.”

“It’s fine,” I tell mutter.

“No, it’s not,” he snaps. “I shouldn’t have freaked. It’s just—if I hadn’t been there…” he trails off with a shudder.

I don’t know what I’m thinking. Maybe I’m not. Maybe that’s how it happens. I put my hand on his chest, feel his heart pounding against my hand, powerful thump-thump-thumps that reverberate through me. He stares at me, his expression difficult to read.

“I’ll be more careful, okay?” I whisper.

“Good,” he replies. “You’d better be… Let me get the door…”

As he leans past me and reaches for the door, his cheek brushes against my face. We’re so close to each other that I can almost taste him. Time seems to slow down as he turns and looks directly into my eyes. We’re barely inches from each other. He looks at me as if searching for something. But for what? Maybe he thinks this is all a setup, too, just like me falling down the stairs as if I’d hurt myself just to make him care.

“What are you thinking?” he whispers, moving even closer. Our lips are a hairsbreadth apart from each other. Each breath he takes has his lips nearly brushing against mine.

“Nothing.”

“You look pissed at me.”

“I just didn’t throw myself down the stairs on purpose. That’s all.”

His lip twitches into a captivating smirk. I almost reach up and touch his face, trail my fingers across his jaw, and feel the prickles of his slowly returning beard. “Okay, you’ve made your point.”

“I’ve never wanted anybody to save me,” I tell him earnestly. “I saved myself. Okay? Do you get that?”

“Yeah, I get that. But can you save me?”

“From what?”

“From you,” he groans, and it should be cheesy. It should make me cringe. If I read about this in one of my books, I might roll my eyes. It’s so different when I’m in the moment when I can feel his hand on my hip, his warm breath on my face, the heat in my chest, the desire emanating from him.

He finally takes that last step forward and crashes his lips against mine. It doesn’t last long, but I know that in my memory, it will expand, become three, four, five times the length. His lips are just the perfect texture: rough, manly, but not off-putting. He tastes freaking delicious. He kisses me confidently, but not aggressively, not as if he owns me. But when I moan, his desire begins to take over. He tightens his grip on my hip. I slide my hand up his chest and…

Then it’s over . It’s like we’ve both woken from a dream. I’m not sure who comes to their senses first, but he finally steps away.

A long time passes with us both just standing there. Then his expression changes, and it infuriates me. He narrows his eyes, looking at me as if to ask, Why did you make me do that? I almost scream at him. He’s the one who kissed me . But is that true? It feels like a blur. My lips are still warm from the contact. Other parts of my body are warm, too, as if tempting me to explore where else we could take this.

His look doesn’t change. If he wants to play the gaslighting game, I can also do that. I spent years having it done to me, after all. “Okay, well, thanks for the save,” I say with a slightly tight chuckle. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know if there’s anything specific I need to know about Emery’s schedule. If not, I’ll keep her entertained.”

A polite, fake smile replaces his searching expression. He nods. “Will do. Thanks for everything, Callie. Sleep well.”

Walking across the yard, I breathe in the cool summer air, but it does nothing to dampen the heat coursing through my body. I sit on the couch in the guesthouse, but then I stand and pace. I can’t sit still. I can’t think clearly, reasonably, or anything even close.

He kissed me. I want to scream the words. I can still taste his lips, still feel their heat. But it was so quick, and he went along with my acting after. It should be easy to pretend it never happened. Maybe if I were thinking straight, I’d find a way out of this job.

However, could I find something better than this, and would I really want to? I check my cell to distract myself, only to find a text from my dad. Hope all is well in the ’burbs. I’ve just bought a houseplant! Love, Dad x

No, I can’t even think about ditching this job. Dad needs it too much. But that doesn’t mean this is going to be easy. Already, I’m thinking about kissing him again, feeling my fingernails bend against his hard muscles. Holding him tight, refusing to let go.

The look in Gray’s eyes flashes into my mind. It was pure accusation, like he blamed me for the kiss, almost like he resented me for it. The smart thing to do is forget it and pretend it never happened. I’ll wake up tomorrow and go to breakfast with a smile on my face. I’m just regular old Callie, not the nanny who’s fairly certain she’s going to touch herself tonight thinking about her boss.