Chapter 9
9
NICKY
M y mother tucks her phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she neatly re-folds one of my sweaters and slips it into my suitcase. “There’s nothing wrong with a little choking, darling. As long as it’s done with the right intentions.”
My shriek of horror flies across the bedroom. “Mom!” I scold her.
Her eyes momentarily flit to me. “Just one second, Nicky. I’ve got your dad on the line.” She returns to her call. “You don’t have to squeeze too hard, Luther. Just a little light pressure is all I need.”
Eeeek! “Make it stop!” I cry out and mom dismisses me with a wave of her hand. She steps out of the room to finish her phone call.
“Get it, sexy mama!” Emma calls after her mother-in-law.
Me? I just cry and cry.
Fighting against her laughter, Nadia rubs my upper back. “Oh, come on, Nicks. Your parents are spicing things up. Good for them.”
“Yeah. Good for them.” I’m as single as a Pringle. Meanwhile, every person around me is getting banged within inches of their life. Even my parents.
I scoop another handful of sweaters out of my dresser drawer—the same one I just unpacked into two days ago—in Emma and Jasper’s spare bedroom. I drop the clothes onto the messy bed, where my four sisters-in-law are all gathered, refolding and stuffing my belongings back into my suitcases.
I sigh out loud. Again.
At the end of this morning’s meeting, Florence wasted no time hammering out her expectations and tossing me into my first assignment. So here I am, getting ready to move into Ronan’s mysterious guesthouse. I effectively start work tonight.
“You okay, Nicks?” Alana gives my knee a squeeze.
My shoulder lifts and falls in a defeated shrug. “Living out of your bags is annoying. But packing, unpacking and packing again is even worse.”
When I landed in this bedroom a few days ago, I thought the next time I’d be boxing up all my possessions, I’d be moving into a cute little Honey Hill house. Some place with a fenced yard and a front porch. Some place I could call my own. Some place I could never dream of being able to afford when I lived back in Chicago.
But now, I’ve committed to this new job, and as long as the Saints hockey season is going strong, my mortgage dreams are temporarily on hold.
I’m not happy about it.
Right now, I’m holding nothing back, complaining to the girls about Ronan. From our encounter on the train, to the conversation we had on Grammy’s side porch, to the way he wouldn’t stop staring at me during the meeting today.
“I’m sooo not thrilled about this situation. I have a feeling it’s going to be awful having to live with this guy.”
“Well, it can’t be worse than living with Emma and Jasper, can it?” Meghan pokes my ribs.
Emma’s head shoots up from where she’s sitting at the foot of the mattress, quietly jotting something in a small notebook. “Hey! That’s not nice!” She tosses a pillow at Meghan’s shoulder.
I laugh for the first time since I left that meeting. “I’ll take Emma and Jasper’s sex sounds over babysitting Ronan any day. And that’s saying a lot.”
Emma tries to look offended but I can tell that she’s fighting back a laugh. “Wow. I offer you room and board, and this is the thanks I get!”
“Sorry, hun.” I shrug. “I love you and my brother but your sex noises will be haunting my sleep for years to come. Can you hand me that shoe?” I point to the heel peeking out from under the bed.
She sets the shoe in my hand and goes back to scribbling.
“Look, Nicky—I get that you’re stressed about this and I don’t want to invalidate your feelings or anything, but— damn —he’s really pretty to look at.” Alana sticks out her phone and the girls ooh ! and aah ! over Ronan’s official team photo.
The larger-than-life man stands there in his Saints uniform, with his dark hair and his mischievous grin, charm and sex appeal practically oozing off the screen.
Then she scrolls down to a video of him on the ice. The power and control he exudes with his movements as he handles the puck is raw and animalistic.
The sharp clench between my thighs is involuntary.
Quickly averting my eyes, I drop an armful of jeans on the bed. “Fine. He’s good-looking. Whatever. But he has to be the most arrogant person I’ve ever met. And I say that as a woman who grew up in a house full of Westbrook boys.”
“Is he really that bad, though?” Nadia asks. “From what you said, it sounds like he was really sweet to you when you met on Christmas Eve. Especially when he saw you crying on the porch.”
I vigorously shake my head. “He was just playing nice so he could get into my pants. I can assure you of that.”
My attention moves over to Emma. She’s been scribbling in that notebook the whole time while I spill my woes.
I frown at her. “What are you writing?”
She jolts, clutching the notebook to her chest. “Just some, uh, plot ideas.”
“Oh no, you don’t!” I playfully smack her hand. “You do not get to use my misery as inspiration for your next novel.”
My bestie is an up-and-coming romance author, and I swear, no conversation is off-limits to her. She’s always sneakily jotting things down in that notebook of hers.
“Come on,” she begs. “It has all the tropes. Grumpy and sunshine. Hockey hottie. Workplace subplot. I promise I’ll dedicate the book to you when it becomes a bestseller.”
Meghan scoffs. “Pretty sure Jasper would take offense to that. He loves to go around bragging that he’s your biggest inspiration.”
I shut my eyes. “Ew. Ew. Ew. Please. New rule—if you girls want us all to remain besties, there will be zero discussion of my brothers and their gross man parts.”
“Then should we talk about this hockey stud and his man parts instead?” Alana suggests, waggling her brows.
“Ugh. Nooo. Let’s not.” I deadpan, dropping down on the edge of the bed with a pout. I lay my head on Alana’s baby bump and fake-sob. “I don’t wanna go live with a giant hockey-playing manwhor-r-r-r-r-e…” I whine.
Ronan is so full of himself, it’s unbearable. I’m sure his nighttime beauty routine has more steps than mine. Plus, I expect that he’ll be hosting raging house parties and entertaining a daily rotation of beautiful women. How the hell am I supposed to keep him out of all that ?
“Maybe there’s a silver lining,” Alana argues, tenderly stroking my hair. “Think about it. This could be an opportunity to totally immerse yourself in a new experience, and distract yourself from the Simon drama.”
I consider her words. “Yeah. Okay. You’re right.”
Taking a minute, I focus on what’s important. This job opportunity allows me to be closer to my family. No more seven-hour train rides back and forth to Chicago. No more dragging around my briefcase and my overnight bag. Plus, I’ll earn a big fat salary to boot.
I know I’m a hard worker, and I don’t half-ass things. Throwing myself into my new job should prove to be a good distraction.
I can do this. I can do this.
Taking a job out in the bushes of Starlight Falls isn’t exactly the reason I left Chicago. I’d been hoping to settle here in Honey Hill with my family. But if I view my babysitter assignment as a quick pit stop on the way to my ultimate dream—putting down roots near my loved ones and homeownership here in Honey Hill—that makes it a little bit easier to digest.
Mom rejoins us a moment later and we finish getting me all packed up. On the way out, I tiptoe into Sparkle’s room where she’s napping to give her a tiny kiss on the forehead. After the girls and I shove the last of my bags into the company car I’m now driving, Emma slaps a paperback book into my hand.
“Is this what I think it is?” I shriek, my eyes widening as I stare down at the glistening, tattooed man chest on the book cover. His Blazing Bedsheets by Emma Stanley-Westbrook.
She grins proudly. “Yup. Advance copy of my next book.”
“Squee!” I bounce on my toes. I still get so freaking excited every time I see my bestie’s name on the cover of a book.
“I figure you might have some free time on your hands while you’re sitting around at Ronan’s practices and during plane rides and everything.”
“I can’t wait to get into this. It’s gonna be so good.”
She rubs her hands together. “Okay. Let me know what you think.”
“Um, duh!”
I hug everybody goodbye. As I hop behind the wheel, I see Nadia smack Emma’s butt. “Excuse me! Where’s my advance copy?”
“Calm the hell down. I’ve got an entire box sitting on the kitchen table. Come on!”
The girls squeal with excitement as they disappear inside the house. With a smile on my face, I embark upon the short drive to Starlight Falls.
But before long, a jittery feeling takes root in my tummy. I need Hockey Guy to take this seriously. I need him to take me seriously.
I’ve decided I’m going to be successful in my new role, and if this man-child stands in my way or tries to undermine me as the career-minded woman I am, he’s gonna have another thing coming to him.
This whole deal has me feeling totally defensive and strangely ready for a fight. I need to get myself mentally prepared for the task ahead. That’s why I’m wearing another business suit.
When it’s time to let Fun Nicky out the gates, I let Fun Nicky out the gates. But right now, I’m on the clock, I want to be taken seriously. It’s something I had to learn to do while interning at my Dad’s company. I always had to work just a little bit harder to prove that I deserved to be there, that I wasn’t just coasting along because I share a last name with the boss. I intend to tackle this new position with the same approach.
As I drive, I’m practicing my speech to Ronan in my head. “First things first. No funny business. If this is going to work, you’re going to have to be on your best behavior, and we’re going to have to keep this one-hundred percent professional.”
I mutter the words over and over to myself. I want to perfectly nail down my sermon before I’m standing face-to-face with the arrogant sex god. Because like it or not, my thoughts sometimes get a little jumbled when I’m looking into those twinkly blue eyes.
In no time, I’m flicking on my indicator and merging onto the highway off-ramp into Starlight Falls. It doesn’t take me long to get ridiculously lost.
Jeez-sus! Who the hell designed the layout of this town?
I accidentally take a left turn on Sky Road and end up on a narrow, loopy roadway called Awakening Field. Then I’m making an illegal U-turn on Morning Star Way and I somehow end up on a street called Chakra Lane.
With each passing mile, my anxiety climbs. My stomach growls and I try to remember the last thing I ate. I glance at the time. Shoot. It’s starting to get late. I’m sweating so bad I have to pull over to the side and shrug out of my jacket.
This new job isn’t off to the best start.
Eventually, I end up in the heart of town. Thank heavens. I make a mental note of all the landmarks I drive past so I’ll remember them for next time. The hardware store. The movie theater. The little church on the hill. The court house and the police department.
I see colorful banners announcing an upcoming beer festival. Metaphysical stores and second hand furniture shops catch my eye as I drive. I hope I’ll get to come back and explore some other day.
Starlight Falls, Iowa, has a population of 5000 just like Honey Hill. But this place seems far weirder and quirkier than my hometown by far.
I drive along a mountain road and triple check the address when I finally come up to the right turn. Then I tentatively pull onto a long paved driveway.Through the copse of trees, I get my first glimpse of the house.
Holy mini mansion!
My car creeps up slowly and I’m unable to take my eyes off the large, lit-up contemporary house hiding here in the middle of the woods.
It’s like a modern fortress peeking out from behind the trees, with unusual angles and towering glass walls and spotlights beaming down on the concrete facade. But the forest provides a lush backdrop, giving the house the vibe of a secret hideaway from the world.
This is not at all what I was expecting out here.
There are several vehicles parked in the circular driveway. Hockey Guy must have company over.
Ugh. Is he having a party right now? Am I going to have to go in there and play the bad guy on day one? In any case, I’m up to the challenge, I guess.
I cut my engine behind a beat-up car with a duct-taped fender. On the back windshield, there’s a bright yellow sticker that says, ‘Princess on-board. Back the heck off!’ Nice.
I drape my coat over the crook of my arm. Grabbing only my briefcase and overnight bag for now, I march purposefully up the pathway to the house, practicing my speech again. “First things first. No funny business. If this is going to work, you’re going to have to be on your best behavior, and we’re going to have to keep this one-hundred percent professional.” I’m prattling away as I ring the bell.
Ronan answers the door. Immediately. And at the sight of him, my mutterings die in my suddenly-dry throat. “Okay. No funny business…er, um…uh…”
Silence.
Confusion slams me so hard that I instantly forget the speech I spent the whole drive up here practicing.
Ronan’s eyebrows dip low as he stares at me. He looks downright confused, too. It’s like he’s trying to decipher what on earth I could be rambling on about here on his front porch.
A small girl runs up and grabs onto his leg, peeking up at me in the doorway. “Daddy…” she whispers loudly. “I don’t think that’s the pizza guy.”
Biting back a smile, he shakes his head. “I don’t think so, either, princess.”
I blink. He has a…a…I had no idea he had a daughter.
I don’t know what my expression must be saying but he stands there, eyes on me, looking me up and down. And I quickly realize that he’s not checking me out the way he normally does. Instead of eye-groping me with his usual melt-your-panties-like-butter stare, his expression is more curious than seductive.
I examine him, head-to-toe as well. Something just feels…different. His silky locks seem a shade or two darker than this morning. And the facial hair that was just a light dusting of scruff on his chin at the meeting earlier is a full-blown beard right now.
He’s still oh-so-very-handsome, but for some reason, I don’t feel the overpowering electric charge I’ve become used to when I’m in his presence.
What the hell?
I catch a bit of movement just over his shoulder. And suddenly another Ronan pushes his way into the doorway. He sweeps the giggling little girl off her feet and mercilessly bumps the Ronan Impersonator to the side.
Fire crackles in the air between us, igniting a squeezing feeling in my chest.
A glittering smile takes over Ronan’s face— the real Ronan —as he stares at me.“Hey…”