Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
LILY
Someone once said the best way to deal with grief is to lose yourself in work. Maybe I’ve taken that advice too literally, but staying busy keeps me from thinking about Mom’s confused face or the growing stack of bills on my desk.
The week blurs together like someone smeared watercolors across my calendar.
I finish the living room disaster at Addison’s, only to run into a mountain of things in the bedrooms on Monday.
Between that house and my part-time gig, I swear I’ve cleaned so much that my skin permanently smells like bleach.
Wednesday, my suffering finally pays off.
I find a lead through the ad I’m running, and I spend every spare second between cleaning jobs trying to set things up for that couple.
By Thursday afternoon, I can’t remember if I ate lunch or stared at a protein bar for five minutes between jobs.
I chug my third triple shot latte and wince at my stomach’s angry growling as I hop out of my car.
It’s an hour past my normal lunch time. My granola bar, the poor excuse of a snack, will have to wait since Mr. Wilson pulls into the driveway right at that moment.
We’re touring another multi-million dollar property today.
The caffeine buzzes through my veins like live electricity, making my hands shake as I grab my folio.
People live on coffee all the time. Why can’t I?
“Ms. Emerson.” Tom approaches with that practiced smile, immaculate as always in designer jeans and a button-down. “Thank you again for accommodating my schedule.”
I plaster on my brightest professional smile, hoping I don’t smell like bleach. “Of course, Mr. Wilson. I think you’re going to love this property.”
As I launch into the tour, my mind keeps wandering. Did I lock the guys’ front door this morning? I need to pick up groceries for dinner tonight, assuming I can stay awake long enough to cook.
“The primary suite features a private balcony with panoramic mountain views,” I hear myself saying, but the words feel disconnected from my body. Like I’m watching someone else give this presentation.
“Lily?”
I blink, realizing Tom is staring at me with raised eyebrows. Heat flashes across my face. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if you were okay. You seem distracted.” His expression shifts to something that might be genuine concern, which catches me off guard. Usually he’s too busy undressing me with his eyes to notice anything else.
Shit. I’m messing up this sale with a million-dollar client because I can’t focus for five minutes straight. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wilson. My mother’s been ill, and I’m afraid it’s been weighing on my mind.”
His face softens immediately. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder, the gesture surprisingly gentle. “Take your time.”
The unexpected kindness nearly undoes me. I swallow hard, forcing myself back into professional mode. “Thank you. That’s very understanding of you.”
We finish the tour without any more lapses, and by the time we shake hands in the driveway, I’m confident I’ve salvaged the showing.
Tom finally seems interested in a property.
As his car disappears down the mountain road, exhaustion crashes over me like a tidal wave.
I need to get back to the office and check in with my new clients.
My phone shows a few missed messages, but the letters blur together when I try to read them.
With the extra work from Addison on top of this job and my other, I’m so tired I could sleep for a week.
I think I’ve officially surpassed my working capacity.
But I have to keep going. Shaking myself on the way into town, I blink hard a few times to clear the sleepiness.
A few sales and I’ll be able to clear out some of the overdue balances.
If Tom would make up his fucking mind, I could probably pay everything off, but nothing is guaranteed in real estate until the closing papers are signed.
My hands shake so hard it’s a miracle I don’t sideswipe anyone’s car as I park in the Big Ridge Realty lot.
Note to self: slow down on the caffeine.
Inside, the fluorescent lights assault me. I wince and squint, frustrated that a headache begins pulsing behind my eyes. Gah. I don’t have time for a freaking headache.
Sarah waves from where she’s chatting with Addison, but her smile falters when she gets a good look at me. I probably look like death warmed over, but I need to power through the afternoon. Only a few more hours, then I can go home and collapse.
I drop into my desk chair and immediately feel the room tilt slightly to the right. My blood sugar must be crashing hard. I should have grabbed something more substantial than that energy bar this morning, but I was already running late and—
“Hey, are you okay?” Ryan appears beside my desk. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine,” I lie, shoving client files into my purse. “But I need to work from home the rest of the day.”
The room gives another subtle spin as I stand, and I grip the edge of my desk to steady myself. My vision goes fuzzy around the edges, like someone’s adjusting the contrast on a TV screen. Oof. Okay. I definitely need a good night’s sleep.
“Lily, maybe you should sit down for a minute—”
“I’m fine,” I repeat firmly, but my legs suddenly feel like they’re made of water. I take one step toward the door and the world spins.
The last thing I register is the sound of Ryan calling my name and the cold kiss of the floor against my cheek.
The sound of arguing voices cuts through my drowsy haze. My eyes flutter open to fluorescent lights and beige walls that definitely don’t belong in my beautiful guest room at the guys’ house. Where the hell am I?
“—don’t know who the hell you think you are!”
That’s Ryan’s voice, pitched higher than usual with indignation. My head throbs as I try to piece together what happened. The last thing I remember clearly was driving to meet Tom for another property showing. Then . . . nothing. A blank space lives where my memory should.
“You better stop yelling if you know what’s good for you.” Hudson’s voice is low and dangerous, the kind of tone that makes smart people back down.
I try to sit up. It’s hard to do when my muscles are heavy and disconnected. A groan escapes my lips, and the arguing stops.
“Lily?” That’s Cole’s voice, closer than the others. “Hey, you’re awake.”
I blink several times, trying to bring the room into focus. A table and chairs, a fancy coffee maker. I’m lying on the couch in the break room. Gage appears in my peripheral vision, his expression tight with concern.
“What happened?” My voice comes out scratchy and weak.
“You passed out,” Sarah says, stepping into view. “I called Callie, but she couldn’t get here quick enough so she said she’d call these guys.” She frowns at them.
I can’t blame her for being suspicious considering the fact that I’ve never talked about them. They’re not strangers, everyone knows everyone in Big Ridge, but no one knows that I’ve been staying with them.
Guess that cat is out of the bag. The only good thing about all of this is Laura isn’t here. She’d probably have plenty to say about the situation.
“How did I get in here?” I ask.
Sarah glances at me again. “Ryan brought you in here to rest.”
Ryan nods, jaw tight. “You scared the hell out of me,” Ryan continues. There’s something accusatory in his tone. “But apparently I don’t get to be concerned about my coworker because you’re . . .” He looks between Hudson, Cole, and Gage like he’s trying to figure out what exactly they are to me.
“Her roommates,” Cole interjects.
Yup, there goes the cat.
“You’re staying with these guys?” The question comes out sharp, almost accusatory.
Cole steps forward. “And what about it?” The question dances on the edge of a blade.
Hudson’s jaw is clenched so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack.
Gage has gone completely still in that way that means he’s two seconds from doing something everyone will regret.
Ryan, oblivious to the warning signs, keeps pushing.
“I only think someone should know if you’re living with three guys. It’s not exactly appropriate.”
The masculine tension in the room makes me dizzy all over again, like I’m caught in the middle of a pissing contest I never wanted to be part of.
But then my stomach growls so loudly that everyone stops glaring at each other and looks at me instead.
The sound echoes through the break room like a dying animal, and I realize the dizziness probably has more to do with the fact that I haven’t eaten anything substantial since yesterday than it does with whatever testosterone-fueled drama is happening around me.
“I want to go home,” I say, trying to push myself up from the chair.
Ryan immediately steps forward. “I think you should stay. Get checked out properly. Maybe call an ambulance—”
“No.” The word comes out sharp, and I take a breath to calm down. He’s only worried. I can’t fault him for caring. There’s no need for melodrama, though. “I want to go home.”
Ryan’s face falls, but then he rallies. “Lily, I really think—”
“She said no.” Gage’s voice cuts off Ryan’s protest. “She doesn’t need your permission.”
Ryan’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “I wasn’t trying to give her permission. I was just—”
“Being a condescending asshole,” Cole finishes with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
Sarah looks absolutely enthralled by this whole interaction, like she’s watching her favorite soap opera unfold in real time. Great. By tomorrow, everyone in Big Ridge will know I’m staying with the guys and exactly how they reacted to someone questioning that arrangement.
The thought should probably worry me more than it does.
I push myself to my feet, still shaky but determined to get out of this room before someone throws a punch. “Guys, it’s okay. Ryan’s only worried.”
All three of them look at me like I’ve suggested we all hold hands and sing Kumbaya, but they defer to my judgment. Hudson’s the first to move, crossing the room in two quick strides to slip an arm around my waist.
“Easy,” he murmurs when I sway slightly. “I’ve got you.”
Cole moves to my other side, creating a protective barrier between me and everyone else in the room. “Can you walk?”
I nod, though honestly I’m not entirely sure. My legs feel like jelly, but I’m determined to get out of here under my own power. Or at least with minimal assistance. I take a step and my knees aren’t happy. Before I can take another, Hudson scoops me up, lifting me like I weigh nothing at all.
“I can walk,” I protest.
“Not on my watch,” Hudson counters.
Struggling, I push halfheartedly at his chest. “Put me down.”
“Lily,” he warns, giving me a look so stern I instantly feel like I’m in trouble.
My lips press together, and I relent. I really don’t want to fall again. I should probably be embarrassed about being carried out of my workplace like some kind of damsel in distress, but his arms feel so solid and warm around me that I can’t bring myself to care.
“Lily,” Mr. Sampson, the managing broker and my boss, quickly crosses the parking lot as Hudson settles me into the passenger seat. “Addison told me what happened. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I promise I’ll be back tomorrow and—”
“No.” He shakes his head. “You passed out. You need to take some time off.”
My heart sinks. “I can’t take time off. I have showings lined up. Mr. Wilson is expecting—”
“Sarah offered to cover your showings,” Mr. Sampson interrupts, and I notice Sarah standing behind him.
Thanks a lot, Sarah. I mean, I guess I can’t be too mad at her for caring but everyone is acting like I’m two steps away from death. I fainted. No big deal. My cheek chooses that very moment to remind me that I fell flat on my face, pain pulsing from what’s probably a nasty bruise.
Ugh. Fine. Maybe it is a big deal.
“I really need the sale,” I murmur.
“I won’t take the commission,” Sarah promises with a kind smile.
Shock ripples through me. Most realtors would gleefully steal a client like Tom if given the opportunity. Ryan and Laura definitely would.
“You’d do the same for me,” Sarah says, reading my thoughts. “Rest up and feel better.”
My boss turns to the guys, who are all standing around the truck like a protective detail. “You’ll make sure she takes care of herself?”
“We swear it,” Gage says solemnly. Something in his tone makes me believe him completely.
“Good.” Mr. Sampson steps back, still looking concerned. “Lily, I mean it. Take a few days.” He and Sarah head toward the door. When they reach it, Sarah glances back, eyebrows pinched together in concern.
Great. More pity. That’s exactly what I need.
The guys pile into the truck, closing their doors and all of them turn to look at me, watching me like I’ve done something naughty. Why do I have the distinct feeling I’m about to be lectured?
“I can take care of myself,” I say defensively.
“Apparently not,” Hudson grumbles.
Cole starts the truck and pulls out of the parking lot, but I can feel all three of them glancing at me like they’re waiting for something. The silence stretches until Hudson finally breaks it.
“You’re going to let us take care of you,” he says, and it’s not really a question.
“I don’t need—”
“Yes, you do.” Cole’s voice is firm but gentle. “And we want to.”
Gage reaches into a bag I hadn’t noticed and pulls out a turkey and avocado sandwich, holding it out to me. “Eat.”
The command in his voice makes something warm unfurl in my chest. When I don’t immediately take the sandwich, he gives me a look that’s part concerned, part stern, and entirely too attractive.
“Lily.”
I take the sandwich, and he watches until I actually take a bite before nodding in approval. A feeling I have no business feeling tugs in my chest. These guys treat me like I’m worth protecting, like they’d fight anyone who tried to hurt me and I like it far too much.
As my heart trembles with the possibility of being truly cherished, that familiar voice in the back of my mind whispers its poison: What if it doesn’t last? What if they get tired of taking care of you? What if you’re just another project to them, something broken that needs fixing?
“You’re no trophy, Lily.”
Shoving Matt’s insult to the farthest corner of my mind, I take another bite of the sandwich and try to silence the doubt, but it clings to me like smoke. Nothing this good has ever lasted in my life. Why should this be any different?