Chapter 7
Seven
Aria
Maybe it was the wine, but I felt warm all over, hyperaware of Liam sitting across from me at his kitchen island.
He'd changed out of his work suit into jeans and a fitted henley that showed off his lean, athletic build.
I'd thought he was handsome in his tailored suits, but there was something disarming about seeing him like this—relaxed, at home, the careful lawyer facade lowered just slightly.
My head had been spinning all week. Working with six attractive, successful, kind men who all seemed to genuinely care about their children and each other—it was almost surreal.
And I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something I was missing, some piece of the puzzle I hadn't been given yet.
I'd caught them watching me sometimes. Nothing inappropriate, but there was an awareness there that went beyond employer and employee. Julian had tucked my hair behind my ear in his office last weekend, and the gesture had felt intimate in a way that made my breath catch.
The way Noah's eyes lingered on me when he thought I wasn't looking. How Gabriel's hand had steadied me at the small of my back when I'd stumbled on the stairs, staying there just a moment longer than necessary.
And then there was the curious absence of any women in their lives.
For men this attractive, this successful, this put-together—I would have expected to see evidence of dating.
A girlfriend stopping by, mentions of plans, something.
But in all my time with them, I'd heard nothing.
No women mentioned in their letters about the kids, no casual references to dates or relationships.
It didn't add up.
"Can I ask you something?" I said, setting down my wine glass.
Liam's dark eyes met mine, and I saw something flicker there—wariness, maybe, or anticipation. "Anything."
"I feel like I know so much about the kids already, but I don't know much about you guys. About your lives outside of work and parenting." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "Are any of you dating?"
Liam's expression shifted, something guarded sliding into place. "No. After our separations and divorces, we decided to focus on our jobs and our children."
I tilted my head, studying him. He was a lawyer, trained to present information in the best possible light, and right now he was definitely presenting rather than revealing. "I don't believe you."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "What's not to believe? You know our schedules. You have keys to our homes. You spend hours with our kids every day. Have any of them mentioned a woman?"
"No," I admitted. "But it still doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't?" His smile widened slightly, and I realised he was enjoying this—the verbal sparring, the way I was pushing.
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"
Liam picked up his spoon, taking a slow bite of ice cream, his eyes never leaving mine. "I don't know what you mean."
I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. "Come on. You're all clearly attractive men. Successful, intelligent, good fathers. I just can't believe that none of you are seeing anyone. It seems... unlikely."
Something shifted in his expression—the playfulness fading into something more serious. "I mean..." He shook his head. "Nothing."
I scooted my stool closer, intrigued by his hesitation. "Tell me."
"No, I don't think so," Liam said, but his voice was uncertain.
"Come on." I leaned forward. "Tell me."
His eyes dropped to where my hand rested near his on the counter, then slowly travelled back up to meet my gaze. The intensity there made my breath catch. "I really do think I should keep this to myself. I don't want to scare you off."
That took me completely by surprise. Scare me off? What could he possibly have to say that he thought would scare me? "Tell me," I said, my voice coming out softer than I intended.
"I really shouldn't," Liam said, but I could see the conflict in his expression—wanting to tell me, afraid of the consequences.
"Maybe not." I held his gaze. "Tell me anyway."
Liam took a deep breath, and I watched him make the decision. "Okay, but you can't quit."
My heart was beating faster now. "I won't quit. Tell me."
"Being such busy men, between our kids and our jobs, we've found that traditional dating doesn't really work for us," Liam began carefully. "We don't have the time or energy to maintain separate relationships, to give individual women the attention they deserve."
I nodded slowly, not sure where this was going but completely focused on every word.
"But if there's one woman," he continued, his voice quiet, "and we work together to make sure she's happy, supported, cared for—that works much better. For everyone."
The words hung in the air between us. One woman. Shared among all six of them.
"So you all... share someone?" I said slowly, trying to wrap my mind around it.
"That's right." His voice lifted slightly at the end, like there was more he wasn't saying.
"What?" I asked. "There's more, isn't there?"
Liam nodded, and I could see him gathering courage. "When we're looking for a nanny, we're also... we're also hoping to find someone who might be open to more. Someone who could be part of our family in every sense."
My heart stopped. "Wait. You mean—"
"Traditionally, the woman we've been involved with has been our nanny," Liam said, his eyes searching mine. "Because she's already part of our lives, already connected to our children. She understands what our lives are like. And because you're our nanny..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.
I sat back, my mind racing. This explained so much—the way they'd all been watching me, the careful attention, the sense that I was being evaluated for something beyond my childcare skills. They weren't just looking for a nanny. They were looking for a partner. For all of them.
"So how does it work?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt. I needed to understand this, needed to know what I was actually being offered. "Is it... do you take turns? Or is it more fluid than that?"
Liam seemed to relax slightly at my question—I wasn't running, wasn't rejecting the idea outright.
”It's fluid. Sometimes it's one-on-one time. Sometimes it's a few of us together. It depends on schedules, on what feels right in the moment. But it's not just about sex, Aria. It's about partnership, support, building something together."
"And the kids?"
"They know we're close, that we're family. As they get older, they'll understand more. But right now, they just know that the adults in their lives love each other and take care of each other. That seems like a good model to us."
I picked up my wine glass, needing something to do with my hands. My mind was spinning, trying to process this. Part of me was shocked—this wasn't exactly a conventional arrangement. But another part of me, a part I was almost afraid to acknowledge, was intrigued.
I'd felt the pull toward all of them this week. The way my heart raced when Noah smiled at me. How safe I felt when Gabriel was near. The intellectual connection I'd felt talking with Liam.
Julian's warmth, Ethan's quiet strength, Ronan's intensity. I'd been trying to ignore it, to push it down, because they were my employers and it was inappropriate.
But if they were offering something more...
"This is a lot to take in," I said finally.
"I know." Liam's voice was gentle.
"And I want you to know—there's no pressure. You can say no, and nothing changes with your job. We need a nanny regardless. But I wanted to be honest with you about what we're hoping for. What we're open to."
I looked at him, really looked at him. He was nervous, I realised. This powerful, confident lawyer was nervous about my answer.
"I'm not saying no," I said slowly.
"But I'm not saying yes either. I need time to think about this."
"Of course." Relief flooded his expression.
"Take all the time you need."
We sat in silence for a moment, the air between us charged with possibility. Then, almost without thinking, I reached out and touched his hand.
The contact was electric. His fingers turned, threading through mine, and suddenly we were both standing, moving toward each other.
"Aria," he breathed, and then his lips were on mine.
The kiss was everything I'd been trying not to imagine all week—intense, searching, full of barely restrained want. His hands came up to frame my face, gentle despite the hunger I could feel in the way his body pressed against mine.
I kissed him back, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling his heart racing under my palms. This was crazy. This was complicated. This was—
"Wait," Liam said, pulling back slightly. His breathing was ragged, his eyes dark. "Wait."
"What's wrong?" My own voice was breathless.
"Nothing's wrong. Everything about this feels right." He rested his forehead against mine. "But you said you need time to think. And you should have that. I don't want you to make this decision because we got caught up in the moment."
I could feel the tension in his body, the effort it was taking him to pull back. "What if I don't want to wait?"
"Aria." His hands slid down to my shoulders, steadying both of us. "This isn't just about tonight. This is about something bigger. You should be sure. You should think about what this means, what you want."
He was right. I knew he was right. But my body was still humming with want, my lips still tingling from his kiss.
"Besides," he said, a small smile playing at his lips, "if we do this, I want you to be all in. Not uncertain. Not questioning. I want you to choose this—choose us—with your whole heart."
The words sent a shiver through me. Choose us. Not just him. All of them.
"Okay," I said softly. "Okay, you're right."
He kissed me again, softer this time, almost reverent. "Think about it. Talk to Khloe if you need to. Ask me questions if you have them. But don't feel rushed."
I nodded, stepping back, trying to clear my head. "I should probably go."
"Probably," he agreed, but neither of us moved.
Finally, I forced myself to grab my purse, to head toward the door. Liam walked me out, and at the threshold, I turned back.
"Liam?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For being honest with me."
His smile was warm, genuine. "Always, Aria. With you, always."
I drove home in a daze, my mind replaying the conversation, the kiss, the weight of what I'd learned. Six men. One woman. A family built on unconventional foundations but held together by genuine care and commitment.
It should have seemed crazy. Maybe it was crazy.
But as I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, all I could think was that it also felt like possibility. Like something I'd been searching for without knowing it.
Like maybe, just maybe, it could be exactly what I needed too.