He grins.
God damn.
My heart just did a little flip flop.
I really need to stop letting it get so close to Hugh.
Because it’ll get hurt.
And it can’t handle much more of that.
12
I’m not going to lie.
I couldn’t even if I tried.
This beach house is out-of-this-world perfect.
Huge, I mean the kind of house you only see on movies, and sitting right there on the sand, the ocean just a hop, skip, and a jump away. The sound of crashing waves can be heard no matter where you go, and the fresh but salty scent fills your nose and brings peace to your soul with every step you take.
It’s the best damned place I’ve ever been in my life, and I want to stay here forever.
The large house has three levels, two kitchens, god knows how many bathrooms, and a whole lot of living areas. The nannies get one section with all the babies, and that section is bigger than two houses combined. Each of us has our own room, bathroom, and we share a kitchen and living area.
The rest of them are staying on the level above, with the nicer views, bigger rooms, and is definitely reserved for rich people.
I’ve done everything I can to avoid Shakira and her little gang since we got here, but eventually, I’m going to be left alone with them, and I’m ready for just about anything at this point. The second we’re all sent to settle in, I know I’m going to find myself stuck with them and their pranks.
Luckily for me, I have a few things up my sleeve, too.
Only if needed, of course.
Hugh has been weirdly attentive to Delilah; I guess he listened to what I said and is making an effort. He has been holding her hand, and pulling her close, and giving her the smiles I so desperately wish I could see from him. I know he’s trying, and it’s incredible that he is, but I can’t help but feel a little jealous.
I need to get a life.
A man, maybe.
Snap the hell out of it.
“Will you take Star for her nap?” Delilah asks, handing Star to me as we all sit on the porch overlooking the ocean. “Hugh and I are going to take a stroll and then go for lunch.”
I glance at Hugh, his eyes meet mine, and damn, the tension is there.
It. Is. There.
“Sure,” I say, taking Star. “I’ll take her for a play at the beach when she wakes up.”
“Wonderful,” Delilah says, standing. “Come on, babe. Let’s go take a walk.”
Babe.
Ugh.
That sounded as awkward as it felt.
He goes with her, and I’m left with a whole bunch of people I want nothing to do with. I take Star and get the hell out of there. I go to our room, feed and change her, and then put her down for a nap. While she sleeps, I take myself out to the living area to watch a movie because I can’t really do anything else at this point. I can’t leave her alone.
I walk out and pause when I see my dress, the one I wore to the country club and peed all over, hanging up by the door. It has not been cleaned and is all ruffled.
“Oh, Maggie,” Shakira says, walking in. “I was looking for you. I thought you might want your dress back. It looks a little stained, though. Poor thing, did you have an accident?”
Keep it together, Maggie.
Keep it together.
“I pissed myself, actually. You know how it is.” I smile sweetly. “Sometimes you just can’t hold on.”
She looks confused.
“Oh, did you expect me to be embarrassed?” I say, narrowing my eyes. “Shit, you’ll have to do better than that, honey.”
I enjoy watching the way her face changes, the way she scrunches her nose and tries to come up with something to say. I take the dress off the hanger and walk into the laundry room, throwing it in the washing machine and turning it on. While I’m in there, I take a deep, shaky breath. I’m not going to let her see just how much she affects me, but oh boy, she does.
I get myself together and walk back out.
They’re all here now.
I force a smile and sit on the sofa, only to leap back up when something wet soaks into my bottom. I look down and see a puddle beneath me. What the hell is that?
I press my fingers against it. It’s red. Some sort of red liquid. Saucy looking.
“Oh, Maggie, honey, did you get your period?” Shakira asks, while the other girls giggle. “Poor thing, I hope that wasn’t your only nice dress.”
Not only did they have no problem pouring sauce on a nice sofa, but they were quick as all hell about it.
I need to be quicker.
“That’s okay, Shakira,” I say, giving her a bitter smile. “Delilah will lend me some clothes. Unlike you, my boss actually likes me.”
She scowls.
I smile.
Then I get the hell out of there.
I’m not playing this game.
Not yet, anyway.
TO SAY THINGS GO FROM bad to worse would be an understatement. Shakira makes certain that I spend the rest of the afternoon tripping on things, she pulls my chair out from behind me when I try to sit down at the table, causing me to fall, she points and snickers at me every time I walk past. It’s safe to say, I’ve had enough. Her and her little posse are going down. Tonight, when the time is right, I’ll exact my revenge.
For now, though.
I play it cool.
I take Star for a walk along the beach, breathing in the ocean air as we stroll, enjoying every second of this freedom that is rarely awarded to me. I put her chubby little legs in the waves, where she kicks and splashes, her eyes full of delight. Oh, to be a child again, to have the chance to see the world through innocent eyes. That’s something we all grow out of eventually and, yet, we long for it.
We remember how good it felt.
“How’s it goin’ with the bitch brigade in there?”
I glance beside me to see Hugh sitting down, beer in hand, shirtless, looking so god damned edible I’m jealous that it’s Delilah who gets to lie next to him tonight and not me.
I know I shouldn’t think like that, but when he’s beside me, and we’re talking so freely, it’s hard not to feel like we’re forming a connection. The problem is, we can’t afford to form one because he’s taken and I am supposed to be fixing myself.
“Oh, wonderful. I’ve been tripped, pranked, and basically treated like I walked in there with a rare disease and they’re doing their best to get rid of me before I spread.”
He chuckles. “Got to love how you explain shit.”
I grin. “Well, it’s how I feel. I like to paint a picture when I tell a story.”
“That you do.”
“How did your romantic lunch go?”
He doesn’t answer for a while, and finally he says, “Good.”
“Just good?”
“Mmmm. Just good. I heard what you said, you were right, wasn’t givin’ her a fair go and that makes me a fuckin’ dick. I don’t to have to be here, but I chose to be and because of that, I at least owe it to her to put a bit of effort in.”
“I’m glad my words sunk in.”
No, I’m not.
I’m not.
He must hear it in my voice because he studies me for a minute, his eyes scanning over my face. Well, now’s my chance to get up and get the hell out of here before he sees what I’m feeling.