Chapter Eighteen

Callie

I stare down at the forum posts. All I had to do was search my name with the word nanny , and they came right up. He lies about me being late for work, about me demanding more money in the middle of family trips. She said if we didn’t pay her, she’d leave me then and there, knowing full well it was too late for me to make alternative arrangements .

Gray returns to the back porch. His eyes have that same intensity as earlier, that same readiness to protect me. Even though I told him not to, warmth rose in me when he picked up Jorge. That big bad wolf, who took so much joy in bullying me, was suddenly reduced to the pathetic nobody I always knew he was.

I refresh the forum page. Whoa. Gray really put the fear of God into him. The post is gone, replaced with a message. This post has been deleted .

“What’s that?” Gray asks, walking up behind me and placing his hand on my shoulder.

So much for being good, but after what has just happened, I feel a physical ache for comfort. And not just any comfort. His comfort. I squeeze his hand and press down to feel his warmth against my shoulder. “It’s the forum post. He’s already deleted it. You must’ve freaked him out.”

“Good,” Gray snaps, pulls up a chair, and sits next to me, our legs touching. “I can’t believe she did that. And yet, no, I can. It’s her all over. She’s sick in the head.” After a pause, he says, “I know.”

“You know what?”

“The way you’re looking at me, you’re wondering how I was ever with a woman like that.”

“It does seem strange,” I murmur. “But I get it. Maybe she wasn’t already like that. Or your feelings for her blinded you to her bad parts.”

“No, it was nothing like that.” He chews the inside of his cheek, suddenly looking almost boyish.

I take one of his hands in both of mine, eager to offer him comfort. He sighs and shakes his head slowly.

“It was a one-night stand,” he tells me. “It was a serious mistake. I was drunker than I’d been up until then… or I’ve been since. She was stone-cold sober. She bragged about it after. She managed to get me to bed and somehow managed to make me, well, you know. I was sick with myself the next day. Wes’s sister ? I’ve known Wes since we were kids. We’ve been friends forever. I hated myself. But I figured, one night. We can call it a mistake and move on. But then she came to me and told me she was pregnant.” He shudders.

“Oh, Gray,” I whisper. “You can’t beat yourself up. Everybody makes mistakes.”

I don’t tell Gray this, but part of his story actually makes me feel relieved. There was no love . There was no affection. There was nothing real between them, ever. That means—what, exactly? What am I thinking? It means that one day if he ever feels something for me, it’ll be as much his first time as it is mine. It means that this connection isn’t just new for me. It means that, on some warped level, he’s a virgin, too—an emotional one.

“And,” I go on, “you were extremely drunk and she was sober? That doesn’t sound right.”

“Tell me about it.” He groans. “I don’t know why she did it—we did it. I say she just because it doesn’t even feel like something I did. Anyway, when she told me she was pregnant, I was forced to tell Wes what had happened. Honestly, it felt good lifting that weight. He was livid. He didn’t talk to either of us for months. But then Emery arrived. Sloane freaked, but I did it anyway—I got a paternity test.”

I can practically feel his pain. I squeeze his hand even harder, telling myself I’m just the nanny offering her employer some support. But that’s crap. We both know it. No nanny would ever behave this way with her boss if something weren’t growing between them.

“It was hard to do that,” he goes on. “I already loved Emery, but I had to know she was mine. She was—she is. So I told Sloane I was willing to try and make a family out of the three of us. For a few months, she did her best. But then she got bored, and she left. It sounds wrong, Callie, but I was relieved when she went. I was much happier with it just being me and Emery. Sure, Sloane would visit from time to time, but never with any serious intent. I was happy it being just the two of us until…”

He looks down at me. He’s smoldering with emotion and desire. I’m getting a little too good at reading him to be able to tell myself any different. He slides his hand up my arm, to my shoulder, then finally to my face. He cradles my cheek, his warmth sinking into me.

Stop , I almost say, as he leans down. We can’t keep doing this.

But I don’t have the courage to produce the words. Instead, I meet him halfway, pressing my lips against his. This is our most emotional kiss yet. I don’t know how I can tell the difference. It feels more intense, but not in a steamy way, not like he’s hungrily claiming me so that he can move on to the next step.

I know what it is. We’re kissing for kissing’s sake. He groans as our tongues meet each other, cradling my face in both hands now, his passionate noises sounding like pure possession. And, even if I’ve run from it my entire life, I want to be possessed. By him. If only for a moment.

The kiss keeps going, my entire body blooming with heat, my cheeks feeling like they’re on fire with his touch.

I only stop when I hear footsteps approaching. I lean back just in time for Emery to appear on the back porch. The last thing we need is her catching us together. I think she’d be happy, and that would be wrong. What if this doesn’t work out? What if I have to leave? She’s already been abandoned once.

“C-A-L-L-I-E,” she says. “Can you make me a story, please?”

I smile. “Sure, Emery. Which one would you like me to read?”

“No, not read .” She giggles, sounding so stinking cute. For a crazy, unbelievable moment, I imagine her leaning over a crib, laughing at a baby, her brother or sister—my child. I actually rub my eyes as if to dispel the image. What’s wrong with me? “ Make me one.”

“Make…”

“You’re really clever, Callie.” She walks over. “I bet you could make the best story ever. And, and…” Her speech speeds up in tandem with her excitement. “And maybe Daddy, you can act out what she’s telling. It’ll be like the TV, only way better because it’s Callie and Daddy!”

After the evening she’s had, there’s no way either of us is going to say no.

***

Emery lies in her big bed, the skylight letting in swathes of moonlight and starlight. She’s got the covers pulled up around her chin, her little face brimming with joy as she looks over at me. Gray stands just behind me, ready to act out whatever I say. This whole thing feels very family-like. Like I’m her mother. And if I were, I’d never treat her the way Sloane did. It’s a dangerous thought. It all feels far too natural.

It's just a job—I’m just a nanny.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

“Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in a big castle,” I say.

Emery giggles. “Are you a princess, Daddy?”

He chuckles. “I’m doing my best.”

“This princess—”

“What’s her name, Callie?”

“Uh, Cassandra,” I murmur, then go on. “Princess Cassandra wasn’t allowed to choose what she read, what she wore, or what she thought about, even. There was a big bad dragon called Josh… raka. Joshraka.” I’m not doing a great job at masking the fact I’m talking about my past, but it’s not like Emery will know.

Emery giggles. “That’s a funny name for a dragon.”

“He wasn’t a very funny dragon,” I tell her, turning to see Gray walking up and down and waving his hands in front of his face.

“What?” he says. “They’re supposed to be flames.”

I burst into laughter. Emery does, too.

“One day, Princess Cassandra decided she wanted to choose what she wanted, so she ran away from the castle. But life was difficult outside the castle walls. She had to learn how to live on her own and how to make money. She had to learn to be strong when she felt scared. She had to learn to be tough. And that meant closing herself off.”

“Closing…” Emery narrows her eyes, her precocious expression telling me she’s calculating what I mean. “Like, not hugging or laughing or being fun?”

“Yes,” I say, proud of her. “Like that exactly. She said to herself, Dragon Joshraka controlled me because I had feelings, so I’m not going to have feelings anymore. But then she met her prince.”

My voice falters. I didn’t mean for any of this to come out, but I suppose that’s what happens when I don’t plan the story. I start revealing truths I’ve promised myself I’ll keep hidden. “The prince was funny. He was smart. He was talented. He was handsome .” Emery giggles again. “But most of all, what got Princess Cassandra about this prince was how easy everything felt with him. She never had to try to be happy with him. She didn’t have to try to laugh, to hug, to be fun. It just happened.”

Emery yawns, her eyes beginning to close. “And they lived happily ever after, right, Callie?”

She’s clearly ready for sleep. I won’t tell her the truth—that, in real life, it’s never as easy as that. “Yes, Emery, the prince and princess lived happily ever after.”

“Yippee,” she whispers, already drifting off.

In the hallway, I say, “I’m seriously jealous of her, being able to fall asleep like that. It’s like a superpower.”

Gray smirks, nodding. “I don’t know how she does it. But everything she does impresses me, anyway. How about you? Are you tired?”

“Gray…”

He takes a step forward. “Hey, Callie. I’m not some animal. You make me feel like one sometimes, but I’m not a complete beast. We could watch a movie or something.”

I look up at him; his handsome features and body so close to mine make me ache. Maybe we could just watch a movie, and that’d be the end of it. But I can’t shake the notion that we’d both lose control at some point. I’d end up stroking my hand over his body. He’d slide his touch over my core again, rubbing my wetness, making thinking impossible.

“I’m going to bed,” I tell him. “Maybe another time.”

As I turn away, he says, “It’s a mistake every time we kiss, every time we touch. We both know that. But it never feels like one.”

“No,” I whisper. “It doesn’t.”