Chapter 17
DEVON
Kairo is a wounded man.
Underneath those fancy suits, that sexy, suave smile, and his quiet wit, he’s as wounded as I am. I never expected such pain to pour out of him quite like it did on that bridge, nor did I expect him to be carrying something so heavy given how unaffected he seems to the world.
It’s a credit to how he presents himself to everyone and reminds me a little of the act I put on to appear normal.
The light around him seems different now, and something has definitely changed between us.
I can’t put my finger on exactly what, and I don’t have the time to think about it because as soon as we stumble inside, my mother and father are there to greet us.
“Devon!” Mom rushes forward with worry flooding her eyes. “Thank goodness! When the blizzard hit and we hadn’t heard from you, I was so scared!”
“It’s my fault.” Kairo speaks up from behind us. “I kept her too late in the city and should have called.”
Tension bleeds through the air as we stamp snow from our boots and shake off any lingering snow not immediately melted from the heat in my home.
The last time Kairo saw my parents, it did not go well.
I hadn’t considered that this might actually be a terrible idea. But I know they won’t turn them back out into that storm.
Suddenly, my dad strides forward and holds his hand out to Kairo.
“It’s good of you to cover Devon’s medical bills,” he says gruffly. “An expense like that is heavy no matter your riches, and I appreciate it.”
Kairo stares at my father with as much surprise as I do, then he quickly removes his leather glove and firmly clasps his hand in return.
“It’s no problem at all. I feel responsible but regardless, I’m glad I could help.”
“Yes,” Mom pipes up. “That’s very generous of you.”
“I invited them to stay,” I say while shrugging off my jacket. “Driving back to the city in that storm is far too dangerous.”
My dad clears his throat as his hand drops away from Kairo’s. “That’s fine. We can set you up in the spare room. And this is…?”
All eyes turn to Martin who’s gently stamping his feet and blowing on his cold, pink fingers. “Martin.”
“My driver,” Kairo adds.
“Nice to meet you, Martin.” Mom smiles and then leaps into action. “I’ll set up the spare room. Hank, can you get the thicker blankets down from the top of the closet for me? Devon, put the kettle on and let’s get you all warmed up.”
There’s a flurry of activity and before long, the spare bedroom is set up to sleep and the three of us are no longer shivering in time to our heartbeats.
“I know it’s not a five-star hotel,” I say as I lean against the doorframe while Kairo eases his fine leather shoes off, “but it’ll keep you warm and dry.”
“Better than a five-star,” Martin groans from face down on the bed, splayed out like a starfish. “Smells like home.”
“Is there a chance of another pillow? I’m taking the floor,” Kairo says as he stands.
“Really?” Martin lifts his head, and while he looks surprised that he’s getting the bed, he makes absolutely no move to shift himself.
“Really. I’m not the one who has to drive us back in the morning.”
Martin groans and thrusts his face back into the pillow.
“Not bad for your first night at your fiancée’s, right?” I tease with a little smile as Kairo removes his tie.
“Fiancée?” Mom’s screech from behind me makes me jump right out of my skin and I whirl around.
She stands in the hallway, brandishing another blanket and a pillow tucked under one arm.
“Mom!”
“Fiancée?” She screeches again, and as the blankets slip from her arms, Kairo darts forward to catch them.
“Not common knowledge?” he murmurs on his way past.
“No,” I gasp and then hurry after Mom as she turns and storms down the hallway to Dad in their bedroom.
“Hank! She’s engaged to that man! Hank!”
“Mom—”
Stumbling into their room, Dad stares at me with wide eyes and his face covered in shaving foam while Mom storms up and down the small space between their bed and her closet.
“What?” Dad’s eyes narrow. “What is she talking about?”
“Okay, look, I was going to tell you but—”
“You got engaged and you’re talking as if it’s an afterthought!” Mom throws her hands in the air. “Devon, what on earth are you thinking? He’s almost twice your age!”
“Okay, first, he’s only thirty-nine, which is not twice my age.”
“Still older,” Mom snaps.
“Yes, okay, he’s a lot older than me, but it’s not what you think.”
“Devon…” Dad steps forward and a glob of foam dangles perilously from his chin. “Is this like what happened with Ax—”
“No.” I cut in abruptly and raise my hands. “Please, listen. Kairo is doing this to help me. It’s not real. It’s just a business arrangement, okay?”
Mom stops her pacing to stare at me. “What?”
“I can’t explain all the details until I know them, but he’s helping me. With this engagement, he’ll be able to help me save the bakery, and I know that sounds ridiculous because technically, I’m only marrying him for his money, but I promise you this is the best chance we have.”
My parents exchange a glance and Dad steps closer. “And what does he get out of this little arrangement?”
The implication is heavy in his tone. but after a calming breath, I smile.
“Peace, Dad. He’s just looking for a little peace because it’s like you read in the magazines.
Everyone is obsessed with everyone else’s dating life.
This way, he gets a little peace for a while.
And once we’ve done everything we can for the bakery, we’ll divorce. It’ll all be in writing.”
The air in the bedroom changes like the stroke of a brush.
“Oh.” Mom presses one hand to her chest. “That’s… in writing, you said?”
“Yes, Mom. I promise this is just business. That’s all.”
She seems convinced and straightens her posture while Dad finally notices the glob of foam seconds away from divebombing onto the carpet. “Well, I suppose that’s alright, then. If it’ll be in writing.”
“It will be.” Kairo’s gentle voice rises up from behind me. “Your lawyer can look over everything before anything is signed to make sure you’re all happy.”
Dad’s eyes remain narrowed but he nods. “That’s good of you, Son. Good of you.”
“Well… I don’t understand why you would help us when it’s your company that is harming us,” Mom says stiffly, but she’s gradually relaxing. “But it is kind of you.”
“It’s complicated,” I say with a small smile. “But it will make sense.”
“Well, then.” Suddenly, she claps her hands together. “I expect to see you at Thanksgiving next week.”
Kairo’s gaze immediately locks onto mine, and I see the request for permission brimming in his eyes.
He could use the deal or his presence to accept without a single thought of me, but he doesn’t.
My heart flutters and I smile warmly. “I think that would be awesome.”
Kairo’s smile widens and he turns back to Mom. “It would be my pleasure.”
Twenty minutes after everyone retires to bed, I stand in the kitchen lazily swirling a teabag around in a cup of hot water.
A strange silence settles over the house while the blizzard rages outside, covering the world in such a thick blanket of white, it’s as if a white globe has been placed over the entire house.
As familiar as this moment is to every other winter I’ve spent here, something feels different.
I’m giddy at the thought of Kairo sleeping a few rooms away and I keep replaying his confession on the bridge.
He showed me his open wound with such quiet sincerity, trusting that I would listen and I wouldn’t hurt him.
Out of all our interactions together, that was the biggest gamble and yet the one that means the most.
It’s not the kind of pain you reveal to just anyone.
And he chose me.
The floor creaks behind me and I flinch, spinning around with my spoon held aloft.
Kairo stands in the doorway, topless, holding his balled-up shirt, and he winces with an apologetic smile.
“I’m so sorry. I was debating how best to announce my presence without scaring you and I did it anyway.”
“You’re fine,” I assure him, sheepishly lowering my spoon. “I’m not used to people being awake this late. You good?”
“Spilled my soda.” He holds his shirt up. “I was hoping I could wash it so I don’t have to drive back to the city in just a suit jacket and tie tomorrow.”
Isn’t that just a tasty image? Walking toward him, I hold out my hand. “I can take care of that.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’ll be much faster than explaining how to get our old machine to work.” Accepting his shirt, I walk to the other side of the kitchen and quickly set up a cycle. “If you have any special requirements for a shirt as fine as this, then I gotta tell you, our washer is as basic as they come.”
“As long as it’s washed on cold, everything else will be fine.”
“Cold. Got it.” Another few button presses, and I slip the shirt inside the washer and close the door. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”
Kairo crosses his thick arms over his bare chest and my heart leaps when I turn around.
He’s standing a foot away from my tea while leaning against the counter. “Sort of.”
“Anything I can do?”
Approaching my tea, it’s difficult to keep my eyes off him.
When we fucked all the way back in the bar, all clothes were kept on, and now he stands before me with this mouthwateringly sculpted body that looks like it was hand-drawn by Michelangelo himself.
His tawny skin almost glows under the single light I have attached to one of the cabinets.
Above his crossed arms, his dusky nipples nestle against stunning muscles that give rise to an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch them.
Are his pecs as soft as they look?
Or is it all rock-hard muscle from years of intensive activity?
I tear my gaze away before my ogling becomes rude and stand next to him, focusing on my tea.
He leans away from me, which sends a pang of disappointment through my chest.
He’s only doing that because he’s a gentleman who has taken my aversion to touch seriously ever since I first told him.
He didn’t question me.
He didn’t try to tell me I was wrong.
He just accepted it.