Chapter 37 Kieran
Kieran
KIERAN
what time are you heading over today?
MY FUTURE WIFE
8:30
like I do every Monday
why…?
should I be scared? I feel like I should be scared
KIERAN
just checking in on the best nanny in the world
you know, just doing my duty as your boss
MY FUTURE WIFE
you despise that you’re my boss
KIERAN
do not
MY FUTURE WIFE
you said that verbatim
KIERAN
that was when you were opposed to flirting with your boss ;)
now that I can eat you out and still be your boss I love the title
it’s kinky, like one of your books
MY FUTURE WIFE
I’m burning this chat history
KIERAN
come on sunshine
you and I both know you like it when I talk dirty
I’m nervous.
Beyond fucking nervous.
No, it isn’t an eloquent enough word to describe the way my heart’s pounding against my rib cage, screaming at me that I’m an idiot and went too far.
Wiping my sweaty palms on the back of my jeans, I look out the second-floor window—for the millionth time—to check if Layla’s car is in the driveway yet.
“Lil?” Emmy asks beside me.
Her sweet little voice and the nickname she picked up from Bella makes the erratic pounding of my heart cease, just for a beat, and then it resumes its pathetic attempt to eradicate itself from my body.
Nodding, I chew on my thumbnail before ripping it from my mouth. “Yep! Lil is on her way over, munchkin.”
She nods up at me like I just gave the most important order of her life.
Running to her bedroom, which has the best view of the driveway, she grabs her retriever and climbs up into the recliner I slept in during her first three weeks here.
Her eyes never leave the window, even though I’m pretty sure she’s only tall enough to see the sky.
My lips twitch. “You’re my best friend, you know that, right?” Bending, I place a kiss on her forehead, soaking up the smile she gives me. “Don’t tell Uncle Grayson that though. He’ll have a heart attack.”
She giggles as if I’m the funniest man in the world, even though I don’t think she has a clue what a heart attack is.
Sitting beside her, I wait, not realizing I was holding my breath until it rushes from me as Layla pulls into the driveway. And sure enough, Emmy doesn’t notice because all she can see at best are the tops of the trees.
Snorting to myself, I lift her onto my lap and point. “There’s Layla.”
She gasps. “Lil!”
She wiggles to be let down and the second those little feet hit the carpet she’s off, running down the hall to greet the nanny she’s fallen head over heels in love with.
The nickname she started saying for Layla only happened this weekend. Surprised the shit out of me, and is probably about to make her cry.
I can hear small squeals and laughter as I make my way down the hall, and as my eyes lock on the room that made me the nervous wreck I am, panic flares in my chest fast and swift, almost toppling me to the floor.
Jesus fucking Christ I’m screwed.
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I round the top of the landing, finding Emmy in Layla’s arms, and sure enough, there are tears rolling down her cheeks.
She lifts those icy blue eyes to me, the ones that haunt my dreams, and whispers, “Have you heard?”
I smile down at them, my two favorite girls. “She’s been saying it all weekend.”
Layla gasps. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Why ruin the moment?” I shrug. “It’s more precious in person.”
“You’re right, this was the best surprise.” Layla squeezes Emmy a little tighter, not letting up until she grunts.
“Don’t squish her,” I drawl.
“She’s just so damn cute.”
Emmy points upstairs and something flares in Layla’s gaze. Turning back to me, she cocks her hip. “Right, care to tell me what you two got up to this weekend and why you won’t walk down the stairs?”
My lip twitches. “Very sassy of you to speak to your boss that way.”
Her eye roll is so dramatic I’m fearful they’ll get stuck. “Says the man who texts me filthy things.”
I shrug. “Just putting the book you sent me to good use.” Her cheeks flame crimson, a near match to her hair. I can’t help but smile. “Please…don’t freak out, okay?”
Her spine straightens. “Well of course I’m going to freak out now.” She makes her way up the stairs as she assesses me. “What did you do?”
Rocking back on my heels I take off my hat, my lucky charm I felt I needed to wear today, and run my fingers through my hair before sliding it on backwards. Layla comes to a stop in front of me, sighing.
I grin. “Disappointed already?”
“No.” She flaps her hand in my direction. “You and that damn hat,” she mutters.
“My hat?”
She sighs again, this one long and deep before she takes a step back.
Flicking my gaze back and forth, searching her eyes, that’s when I clock it, the small hint of heat sizzling in her glacial eyes.
If I wasn’t so goddamn nervous that she’s about to chew my head off for what I’ve done, I would be jumping on that.
And Emmy, ever the watchful girl, is looking between us both, growing impatient.
Waving my hand, I say with a flourish, “After you.”
Her scent envelopes me as she walks past, and like the creep I am, I inhale deeply, savoring the scent that is distinctly her. It’s happiness in a bottle, radiant joy sizzling through my veins.
Everything about this woman is pure sunshine.
She’s a beacon, the very thing that lights up my life.
“Where am I going?”
“Stop there.”
Fuck, did my voice just quiver?
By the way Layla snaps her head in my direction, I’m going to take that as a yes.
Get yourself together.
Clearing my throat, I shake my head a little and stand in front of the spare bedroom that has been sitting empty—until now. Not entirely sure what to say or do, I mutter, “Fuck it.”
I turn the doorknob, holding my breath as I push it open and step aside.
This weekend, I truly went and lost my fucking mind and built my nanny, the woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for close to two years, a library. In my house.
The second I saw her eyes light up at the bookshelf I built for Emmy, I knew I had to do the same for her, just to see the spark come to life again.
Layla’s gasp echoes throughout the room.
Emmy slides down her body and Layla lets her, not even paying attention to her as she runs into the room, launching herself onto the large round white reading chair I bought.
One Google search was all it took to find the most popular one between readers, and one quick thumb tap was all it took to hit purchase.
Layla’s hands come up slowly to cover her gaping mouth. She doesn’t say a word, and nerves take root in my chest. Before I know it, I’m doing what I never do—pretty sure I’ve never done it in my life—but Layla is also making me experience a lot of firsts.
I nervous ramble.
“Now, before you start yelling and cursing at me that it’s too much, I don’t think it is.
Emmy adores you and wants to be like you so much.
So even if you turn around and say you hate me and never want to work with Emmy and me again, the room will be put to use.
But she had so much fun helping me build it this weekend it was absolutely worth it for that reason alone.
If you look on the bottom left corner of the far shelf you’ll actually find some of her drawings she snuck in while I was distracted. ”
Layla turns to me, and I’m suddenly very concerned her eyes will remain permanently wide with shock.
Taking off my hat, I feel like pulling my hair out as all she does is continue to gape at me. I step into the room with a shuddering breath.
“It’s okay if you don’t like it,” I whisper, my nerves on full display.
“I won’t be offended.” Hurt beyond measure?
Absolutely. “But it was fun. I like building things that aren’t just Legos and now you and Emmy will have a room to read together.
I saw that you’ve completely run out of space to put your books at home and thought you could—”
“You’ve seen my room?” she squeaks out.
My body stiffens, my back to her so she can’t see the way I curse myself for being so stupid.
Spinning, I shrug sheepishly. “Yeah…sorry. I dropped by…” I try to lie, but as she stares at me with a mixture of awe and shock, I find I can’t. I can’t lie on a good day, but I especially can’t lie to her.
Never to Layla.
Rubbing the nape of my neck, I avert my gaze, not wanting to see the look on her face as I whisper, “I asked your mom to show me your favorite books.”
“Why?”
One word.
One word exhaled on a breath of surprise.
Swallowing thickly, I walk over to one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves I built and pick up the copy I bought of her most beloved book. With my heart in my throat—on display for her to see, for her to take and crush in her palm—I hold out the copy to her. It’s just now I note I’m trembling slightly.
“What’s this, Kieran?”
She takes it from me, thumbing through it only to stop at the small writing along the pages.
“D-did you annotate it?”
Nodding, I keep my eyes fixed on the floor as my cheeks heat. “I wanted to know why you love it so much. Your mom explained how you annotate books and I thought you might find it interesting to see my annotations…compare our reactions.”
“You read my favorite book and annotated it?”
Lifting my head, I steel myself for what I’m about to find. Tears are not what I expected.
“Fuck,” I curse. “I overstepped. I know I did, I’m sorry, but—”
My words are cut off as Layla launches herself at me. She sucks in a heaving breath and chokes out, “This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Without missing a beat, I wrap my arms around her, lifting her off the floor so she doesn’t have to stand on her tiptoes.
Burying my face in the crook of her neck I let her warmth soak through to my bones.
Nothing has ever felt as right as when she’s in my arms. It’s similar to how I feel when I hold Emmy, but entirely different.
For Emmy, I pour out love, a paternal bond I’ll never be able to fully describe.
Holding Layla is terrifying because I know she isn’t mine. This bond between us is so fragile that I’m petrified one wrong move will send her running. But it’s worth it, the panicked feeling, in exchange for even a drop of the love I have for Layla.
“You don’t think I’m a creep?” I ask, my voice muffled by her hair.
A burst of shocked laughter escapes her. “I’m most definitely wondering why you would go to such lengths for me but no, I love it, Kieran. Truly, it’s beautiful.”
Pulling back, I set her down on her feet, though keeping my arms locked around her. “Why wouldn’t I go to lengths for you?” I ask simply.
“Because I’m…me,” she breathes.
“Exactly.”
Layla swallows thickly, her eyes locked on mine.
Before I lose my nerve, I whisper, “We’re canceling any and all plans we had today.”
“We are?”
“We are.” Forcing myself to step away from Layla is the most painful thing I’ve ever had to do. But I want to see the expression on both of my girls’ faces as I announce, “We’re going to the bookstore.”
I’m not sure what is it—the excitement that both of them are bursting with; the way Layla is so soft-spoken and kind to Emmy, making sure to stop and look at the books she points at; or the fact that Layla is entirely in her element.
But it hits me like a fucking truck.
In between the stacks of romance books.
Some full of tragedy, some full of darkness, and others, like my heart, full of hope. It’s there I realize I’ve fallen in love with Layla Carson.
I don’t just love her. I am madly, deeply, and undeniably in love with Layla.