Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I shrug. “I’m having issues with everything.”
“I can tell.”
We stand in silence for a few minutes and I feel my heartbeat slow, my breathing return to normal. “I want to go see my sister,” I say finally.
“I can drive you tomorrow.”
“I won’t let you. It’s a five-hour drive and Guinevere needs to be at home.”
He pulls me closer and presses a kiss to the top of my head. It feels so good, like this thing between us could be reality.
But it’s not. At least, not for long.
TWENTY-NINE
Dax
I swear Guinevere just smiled at me. She kicked her leg and made her bouncer jig by herself for the first time ever, then looked up at me as if to say, “Hey Dad, see what I just did?”.
“Are you so clever?” I ask her. “Of course you are. You’re a Cove.” I step out of the kitchen, the scene of the inaugural bounce, and call out, “Do you want me to get your bags?” I head through the open door into Eira’s bedroom to see if she’s in there. Her suitcase is standing at the end of the bed, her handbag balanced on top. “I can take it if you want.” I go to grab it then wonder how I’m going to take it to the taxi with Guinevere at the same time. It’s not like I can leave her in the bouncer.
My foot catches the wheels on the case, toppling the suitcase and upending the bag on top. I bend to scoop it up. Most of the contents have stayed in place because the bag was zipped up, but there’s a folded piece of paper that I retrieve from the ground just as Eira comes into the bedroom.
“Oh,” she says, taking the paper from me. “I can get the case. It’s on wheels anyway.” She glances at the piece of paper. “I was going to talk to you about this. I haven’t made any decisions but…I have to consider it, given the circumstances.”
I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out if I’m supposed to know what she’s talking about.
“The circumstances?”
She rubs at her throat like something is lodged there. “You know. This. It’s…I need to be looking out for other jobs.”
My muscles tense and I glance back at the paper. “That’s details of another job? You’re leaving?”
She shakes her head. “No!”
Relief floods through me and I start to smile. She’s not making any sense.
“Maybe,” she amends, and my smile fades. “I don’t know. This is complicated.”
Is it? She’s sweet and sexy and I feel different when I’m around her. More relaxed. More like a better version of myself. There doesn’t seem to be anything complicated about that.
“But it doesn’t have to be,” I say.
“You’re my boss,” she says. “We live together. I know you just want us to deal with the here and now, but that’s difficult for me. I support my family through my job, and if I get fired—”
“I’m not going to fire you.”
“There are a thousand different scenarios that could result in this…arrangement not working for one of us. Even if we weren’t sleeping together.” She pauses, clearing her throat quietly.
I haven’t screwed this up. I want her to stay. As Guinevere’s nanny, but for me too. I can’t imagine my life without Eira in it. It’s only been a few weeks, but she fits. With me. With us.
“But even if we weren’t, this job,” she says, holding up the folded paper, “is a really good opportunity. It’s for a Russian oligarch. I have responsibilities. Eddie is…”
“Almost finished university,” I add.
“Right. And what if she meets someone in the next couple of years and wants to get married? She doesn’t have parents to pay for a wedding.”
“What if you want to get married?” I fire back before I think about what I’m saying.
She chokes out a laugh. “What? To who exactly?”
“Someone you spend time with and love and who loves you? Do you even have room for that in your life?” I ask. “Is there space for someone to care about you when you’re so filled up with caring for everyone else?”
She goes to speak then closes her mouth.
“There are a thousand what ifs, Eira. There’s always a reason to want more money. But if your sister wants to get married, that costs about a hundred pounds.”
“You know what I mean.” She sounds defeated. “It would be good to have more of a nest egg.”
“For you?” I ask. “Or so you can look after everyone else?”
She blinks up at me.
“You’re so good at caring for others. Me and Guinevere. Your brother and sister. But what about you? It would be different if you were going to take this new job because it was something you really wanted. Or you needed the money to set up your own business, go traveling, pursue a passion—or do anything for yourself.”