Chapter 20
Lyra
T
he next day, there are no dates.
The only thing on my schedule is a photo shoot at the hotel, which Camille loves. The show hasn’t been televised yet, but the traffic on the websites has already picked up, both for the hotel and the tourist site for Saint Pierre.
I want to help Camille promote her island, so I’m game to go along with everything the producers want to show off the beauty of Saint Pierre. And I’ll promote my season of The Suitorette, because other than Spencer’s surprise arrival, it’s been a lot of fun.
It was a great date with Basher yesterday, maybe one of the top ten best I’ve ever had.
He ticks a lot of my boxes: interesting and exciting, we have lots in common, and he would understand my world and bring a new slant to it.
He was all in for the parasailing and he’s the one who suggested we change up the date with the jam session.
I got to play the drums with Denzel Duke. The entire day was amazing.
Kissing him should have been just as amazing.
And it’s not that Basher can’t kiss—the man has moves—but he can’t kiss me.
Or rather, I didn’t want him to kiss me. And that’s a problem when you’re the Suitorette.
I blame Spencer.
Having him here is like being picked up in a bar while your ex watches. It’s awkward. Uncomfortable. And you really want the pickup to happen because that ex broke your heart, and he should be forced to watch while other men find you fascinating.
Not that Spencer is my ex. He’s not. Nothing has ever happened between us. There have been a few pecks over the years—one which was embarrassing because it happened in front of my brothers and his sisters during a game of Spin the Bottle when we were very young.
There had been a few almost-kisses over the years, but an almost isn’t a kiss. It just leaves you frustrated and with a heightened sense of anticipation about when will be the next time it almost happens.
It’s those almost-kisses that have haunted me over the years.
What Spencer and I have done is share. We’ve confided in each other about everything and anything. In a lot of ways, he’s just as much my best friend as Kate, and now Sophie.
But having a best friend like Spencer has led to years of confusion. I know he cares about me. I know he loves me in his own way, but why can’t he love me?
I’ve wondered and wanted and hoped because Spencer Laz has always been my Prince Charming.
Only, I’ve never told him because brother’s best friend.
And because I honestly never thought he felt the same.
Or could ever feel the same. He’s as thick as thieves with my brothers and there’s no room for me in that huddle.
And there’s always been a part of me who thinks Spencer just mirrors the relationships I have with my brothers. Does he think of me as another one of his sisters? Am I simply an aspect of his friendship with them?
Could he ever see me as anything else?
I have never lacked self-confidence, but thoughts of Spencer have always left me
flustered and uncertain.
I don’t like it.
So when he went full steam ahead with Abigail a few months ago, I told myself enough was enough. I was not waiting one more day for him to realize we could be the power couple of our generation.
If not that, then at least we’d be good together. I thought I could make him happy—but I stopped thinking that because I had to leave happiness up to Abigail. I tucked all my Spencer thoughts into a neat little box and shoved them deep. And then Grayson came to me.
And now we’re here and I don’t know what to think. I wish I could say, You’re too late. I’m over you.
But unfortunately, that wouldn’t be true.
And there’s a little voice that hasn’t shut up since he arrived.
What if you’re meant to be with him?
I think that’s my mother’s voice. Or maybe it’s mine.
Whoever is talking to me, it makes me want to see Spencer today.
“Can I hang out with the guys today after the photo shoot?” I ask Grayson over breakfast. The guest list staying at the house has expanded with Bo, Hettie, and Tema still here, as well as Gunnar and Sophie, who arrived yesterday.
Camille seems flustered by the extra people, but Odin is his usual organized self.
And of course, it’s Madame Carol who does the lion’s share of the work.
Grayson fits in nicely. Ria spends most of her time with Rue at the hotel, but Grayson likes to hang around here. I’ve suggested he bring his wife here to stay with us as well.
“Tomorrow is the next group date,” Grayson reminds me, smiling his thanks as Madame Carol refills his coffee cup. He’s much better looking without the cake of makeup they slather on him when he’s in front of the camera, a fact that Madame Carol seems to appreciate.
There were no roses given out this morning, which is good because I didn’t know whom I would have sent home. I’m keeping Basher, even after the kissing thing, and no one is on my radar to get rid of.
I think that’s more because I haven’t spent enough time to get to know them.
“But I want to hang with them today,” I say with exaggerated excitement. “I need more time with them off-camera, with no tripping over each other to pull me aside. Just to get to know them better.”
“We’ve never done that before.” Grayson sounds worried at the thought.
I smirk. “You’ve never had me as the Suitorette.”
“I want to come,” Tema pipes up. “I want to see the suitors because I don’t know what a suitor is.”
Tema sits at the far end of the table. I thought she was all about gulping down her waffles rather than paying attention to us. Sometimes I forget how good her listening skills really are. “It’s like a boyfriend,” I explain.
“I thought it was like a suitcase.” Tema’s eyes widen. “They’re all your boyfriends? Everybody at the hotel?”
“Please, god no,” Bo mutters.
“I’m not sure she’s a good idea,” Grayson mouths the word. Obviously, he doesn’t have children because Tema picks up on the word right away.
“I’m the best idea,” she declares.
“Aunt Lyra has to work,” Hettie cuts in.
“But she can help me,” I argue. “I think it’s the best idea.” I grin at Tema.
“The two of you should not be alone together,” Bo mutters under his breath.
“Tema’s a great judge of character,” I tell Grayson. “Out of the mouths of babes and all that. She can help me narrow my choices. And it’ll give me insight on the guys because if they can’t figure out how to look after my niece, then I shouldn’t keep them around.”
“They’re not here to babysit,” Bo rumbles. “And I don’t want them to be. And you’re not here to do that either.”
“I’ll come to keep an eye on Tema,” Sophie offers. “Are you okay staying here for another day?” she asks Gunnar.
She stayed up for hours with me last night, wanting to know everything about the men, including my thoughts on Spencer. Sophie is definitely on Team Lyra, but there’s no question of her fierce loyalty for her brother.
I understand brotherly loyalty.
“I can handle that.” Gunnar grins. “But I’m telling Stella it’s your fault I’m not coming home to help her set up the new dog kennel.”
“It’s settled.” I give Grayson a toothy grin. “Me and my girls are coming to hang with the boys today. Tell them to prepare for my arrival.”
I can tell Grayson has no clue what to do with me.
“Hey, boys!” I cry, after the photoshoot. “How’s it going?”
My voice rings out over the pool area and I swear, every head turns in my direction. Smiles and cheers and—the men look so happy to see me that it fills my chest with a warmth that comes from being liked.
I’m liked by many but not everyone, and I’ve accepted that fact. But the mad scramble to get to me, like baby goats trying to be the first in line for food, makes me feel good.
“I told Grayson I want to hang out here today with you,” I tell them amidst the cheers, and I hold up a hand as Phillippe is the first to make it to my side.
“All of you. This isn’t a group date and we’re all friends here, so we’ll all share and there’ll be no dragging me away for a little tête à tête.
Because there will be no kissing today.”
There are several boos at that news, including Phillippe, who actually tries to nuzzle in to kiss my cheek.
I push him away.
“And along with me, I’ve brought a couple of friends.” With that, Tema gives a yell from where she’s hiding by the door, and with a running leap, cannon balls into the pool.
Phillippe is in the splash zone.
“That’s Princess Tema,” I say, amid the laughter. “And this is Sophie—” I reach behind me and pull her to my side. “And you’re going to entertain us today.”
The men quickly rise to the challenge.
Tema is constantly surrounded by men doing their best to keep up with her in the pool. Hettie—whom I didn’t invite because on a rare note of compassion, I thought it might be weird for her to see Spencer there for me—gave me a tube of sunscreen and a hat and asked to make sure she wore both.
Rand—being a redhead—takes it upon himself to keep reapplying the Coppertone every ninety minutes. He somehow manages to get her out of the pool, slather the stuff on every part of Tema not covered by her rash guard, and then they’ll head in for a snack while it absorbs.
This gives the other guys a much-needed break, because ninety minutes of Tema is a lot.
Tanner takes the lead in pool time, which means he doesn’t get a lot of time with me. I respect that. Apparently, he has amazing breath control and can stay under long enough to swim across the length of the pool after Tema.
I also respect the way he looks in a bathing suit.
Jon takes command of the kitchen and the grill, making the most delicious lobster rolls and fish tacos. He has a handful of sous chefs—whether they volunteered or were conscripted—and I make sure to spend time in the kitchen to show my appreciation.
It’s an easy, comfortable day.