Chapter 2 #3
I ignore her ignoring me and cut her off, standing between her and the doorknob.
Every last kitten inside that room decides to find their vocal cords at once, which is impressive considering how small they are.
“Theo,” she says.
Just my name.
Like she’s a goddamn teacher and I’m in trouble for bringing a wounded baby chipmunk into the classroom.
Not so I could wait for it to perish and present it to my dad for stuffing like my teacher assumed that day too.
“The only reason I’m not tossing you off my balcony right now is that it would ruin Emma’s day,” I force out through gritted teeth.
“Plus we’re basically at sea level in here, so I’d have a pretty soft landing,” she says.
“That would ruin your day to go to all that effort for a small impact, I’m sure.
And I’m no cowering weakling, as you might’ve noticed when I saved you from a fire a few minutes ago.
Wouldn’t want me to turn my muscles on you twice in one day, would you? ”
Who is this woman?
It’s certainly not the Laney from middle school who would’ve informed me that if I didn’t stop bouncing a tennis ball against the wall when we were supposed to be having quiet indoor recess, she would tell the teacher.
“You can have the pullout bed. Because it’ll make Emma happy.
But don’t open that door. If you open that door, I will fucking ruin the rest of your life, no matter what kind of crazy muscles skills you think you have. Stay out of my bedroom too.”
Her blue eyes waver and she takes a half-step back.
“I realize this isn’t convenient for either of us,” she says softly, “but I’m confident we can both manage this for Emma’s sake.
And you can surely see that it’s unexpected at the least to hear what sounds like a herd of cats in your spare bedroom. ”
“I can only sleep if there’s a separate room with a closed door and the nature channel playing on the TV inside.”
She opens her mouth.
Closes it like she’s deciding she doesn’t want to know if that’s the truth.
Sweeps her gaze down my body like she’s just now realizing I’m standing here in nothing but my underwear.
Good news—her personality has once again destroyed any desire my dick might have to pop a boner.
I lean back against the bedroom door. “Sabrina’s two bungalows down. Go stay with her.”
Her gaze snaps up to mine. “No.”
“You don’t have a lot of negotiation room here, Princess Plainy.”
“Emma wants me to stay here.”
The kittens mew softly behind me. I need to check on them. See how they’re doing. Determine if I need to have that vet come out tomorrow and examine them again. But I don’t want to do it while she’s standing here.
Or while I’m mostly naked, which doesn’t bother me , but would bother Emma if it caused an incident here.
I could argue that Laney’s lying about Emma wanting her to keep an eye on me, but I know she’s not lying.
One, there’s no reason for her to lie. Her mother once cornered me at a high school dance and informed me that Delaney’s no-no box is off-limits to the likes of you .
Completely unnecessary, considering I’ve never been under any delusions that Delaney Kingston might ever look at me as anything other than a waste of oxygen, no matter how I might’ve felt about her once upon a time, but she still did it.
And Laney reinforced that she agreed with her mother’s opinion more times than I care to remember.
But worse—Emma’s stressed to the max and Chandler’s being a dick at every opportunity.
Usually, we both make an effort to get along for Emma’s sake.
But this trip—this trip isn’t normal. And he’s the groom, which means he’s special .
He doesn’t get a babysitter.
I do.
Em won’t ask her sorority sister. Not when she’s told me not to flirt with Claire, who doesn’t need more drama from men right now. She’ll probably think I was flirting just by offering Claire a drink, but I wasn’t. I was merely being a nice guy. Promise.
Won’t ask Sabrina either, and not just because Sabrina’s Chandler’s cousin and therefore obligated to be on his side.
Sabrina’s pissed at me for her own reasons, and while she’s fucking Fort Knox when she has a secret she doesn’t want you to know, she also doesn’t get pissed at you without the whole world becoming aware that you have crossed her.
And for the record—I didn’t cross her.
I just didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear.
Emma also won’t ask the triplets. They’d toss me off a balcony—one higher than sea level—at the first opportunity to teach me a lesson.
For fun.
And with something soft to land on underneath.
And then we’d all have beers together and crack up at how funny it was, because we hang out and do stupid stuff like that all the time.
Basically, they’d be useless as babysitters and that would piss off Chandler more.
Laney’s the best choice.
Can’t really blame Emma here for making a smart decision. It’s what she’s done her whole life.
“He fucking started it,” I mutter like a toddler.
Laney’s whole body seems to deflate. “I’m sorry. It must be difficult to not get along with your sister’s fiancé.”
Wary doesn’t even touch how I’m feeling as I study her.
I’m used to the Delaney that looks at me with as much disdain as her mother does. So her giving me any credit and considering my feelings?
This is cause for suspicion.
She hitches a shoulder. “He wasn’t exactly innocent in you getting set on fire. And I’m sure it’s unpleasant to know you’re stuck with me now.”
“Is this a trick?”
“This is me wanting to take a shower and climb into pajamas and bed. It’s been a long day.
But I need to trust that you’ll stay here while I do, because while I know you love your sister and won’t intentionally do anything else to stress her out, she believes things happen when you’re around no matter your intentions, so she asked me to be a buffer, and that’s what I intend to do. For all of your sakes.”
Mama cat meows loudly in my second bedroom.
Delaney doesn’t flinch.
It’s like she’s trying to telegraph you can trust me—I’m not asking why you have cats in your second bedroom anymore .
That means one thing.
The minute I turn my back, she’ll be getting into this room and letting the cats out.
End of the world?
Fucking might be. Those kittens aren’t old enough to be wandering around the island unsupervised. And I’m not one to worry about anyone being unsupervised .
And don’t tell me feral cats have been surviving on this island for decades.
I don’t. Want. To fucking. Hear it.
For one, I’m certain their mama is domesticated. And for two, these are my kittens now—along with their mama—and I will protect them to the end.
And also not let Emma know that I’m keeping them here for fear she’ll freak out about me getting tossed from the resort.
Laney’s right.
Things happen when I’m involved. I’m not having anything happen to my kittens.
I point to the bathroom just outside of the room I’m sleeping in. “Shower’s there.”
Delaney doesn’t turn to look.
Instead, she keeps staring up at me. “How do I know you won’t leave while I’m showering?”
“You don’t.”
I stare at her.
She stares back.
And then she does the last thing I expect her to do. Again .
She turns and heads toward the bathroom, pulling her luggage behind her, like she trusts me.
The Delaney Kingston I remember from school would’ve stood there and stared at me all night to make sure I behaved myself .
But this Delaney?
She’s on babysitting duty, and she’s leaving me unsupervised.
Like she trusts me.
I trust me. But I don’t trust that she trusts me.
“I’m going to hang with the triplets,” I call to her through the closed door.
“Awesome. Emma will love that,” she calls back.
Fuck.
She got me.
I’m grounded.
And not because I sneezed wrong and got myself set on fire at the pool.
After Thanksgiving, and the plane, and then fishing this afternoon, not to mention that favor Chandler asked, and hated that he had to ask, this was inevitable.