If you speak to me before Iâve had coffee, and Iâm mean, thatâs your fault. Not mine.
âAddieâs Secret Thoughts
My dry eyes feel like gritty sandpaper rubbing together when I finally force them open and immediately slam them shut as my pulse pounds violently in my skull.
Ouch.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Once Iâm curled up in the fetal position and the warm covers are over my head, I let the quiet house lull me back to sleep.
Wait . . . My house is never quiet.
Freaked-out, I sit up way too fucking fast and stop as the room spins around me.
Oh. My. God.
The night crashes over me like a violent wave refusing to let me get my bearings before knocking me back down. Oh no, I think Iâm going to be sick.
Once Iâm somewhat stable, I manage to stumble to the en suite bath and drop to my knees in front of the toilet while I try to breathe through it. I hate to throw up. Like hate it with a visceral passion, so much so it always makes me cry. On my knees in front of the toilet, I basically practice Lamaze breathing to get me through it.
It didnât help me at all when I went into labor, but it helps me now, thank goodness.
Never again . . . Iâm not sure what I was thinking last night, but wine and I are far from besties, and this morning is all the reminder I needed. I slump against the wall and look longingly at the big clawfoot bathtub I havenât managed to use since before Lennoxâs birth. My lip quivers, and my boobs are two painful, rock-solid bowling balls full of milk. This is by far the longest Iâve gone without nursing Lennox, and my body is revolting.
What I wouldnât give to have an hour to soak in that tub.
A dark room, some quiet music, and maybe some of those rose-gold eye de-puffers Coraline gave me for last Christmas that are still sitting in an unopened box on a shelf.
My eyes drift closed, and I focus on the quiet. Maybe I should have checked the time, but there was no way I could have stopped once the nausea hit. I allow myself one last loving look at the tub before I stand and breathe in and out again. Guess the shower it is.
One lukewarm shower later, and Iâm reminded I need to deal with the crappy hot water heater that was kind enough to decide it only wanted to work sporadically. Chilled, I throw on a pair of black leggings with white fuzzy socks pulled up and my favorite oversized light-blue Boston Bay Hawks hoodie. I may have had my issues with my father while he was alive and possibly even more so now that heâs gone, but this stupid sweatshirt still reminds me of home. The good and the bad.
Itâs also perfectly broken in and nearly threadbare in some spots, making it the most comfortable thing in my closet.
As I make my way down the hall, I thank whatever higher power there might be for sending Coraline home for the holidays. Quick glances in the girlsâ empty rooms show just how late it must be. Izzy and Lennox are both out of their beds, and Iâm assuming downstairs with Aunt Cori. Guess I really owe her one.
Slowly, I move down the long, curved staircase of the old Victorian, listening for my girls, but instead of Izzy negotiating or Lennox crying, Iâm met with silence.
Sweet, calming silence that immediately sets me on edge.
I move further into the house and nearly stumble as my breath catches in my lungs.
My memories from last night end with me crying myself to sleep on my couch.
I donât seem to recall anything after that.
I certainly donât have any explanation for the sight before me now.
Leo Sinclair is lying on my couch with Lennox sleeping peacefully on his big, broad chest. His hypnotic baby-blue eyes watch me as I take my last step into the room and freeze. âWhat are you doing with Lennox?â I ask, angry that this man is in my house and holding my baby.
This is my space.
Where Iâm safe.
How dare he just be here, uninvited?
Before Leo can answer, Coraline pops her head in from the kitchen. âHey.â She glances down at Lennox sleeping and winces. âSorry.â She lowers her voice and cocks her head as she regards me. âNice of you to wake up, sleepyhead. Pancakes are ready.â
My mouth opens and closes as she scoops Lennox off Leoâs chest, like itâs the most normal thing in the world for the giant to be here. âIâve got her. Go eat before youâve got to get out of here.â
Lennox pulls her chubby little legs up tight and stretches her arms above her head as her tiny red lips purse.
I hold my breath again, waiting for her to cry, but she doesnât.
She snuggles in against Coraline, looking slightly offended that sheâs been taken from Leo, but then goes right back to sleeping like the angel she rarely is.
When I force my eyes back to the man who just sat up in front of me, I wonder if I should just hook myself up to a tank of oxygen because the look heâs giving me . . . the hunger in his crystalline eyes doesnât just steal my breath, I think itâs going to haunt my soul.
âBoston Bay Hawks . . .â He reaches out and tugs the front of my crew neck, pulling me toward him. âYouâre in Kroydon Hills now, Adelaide.â
His big hands play with the hem of the soft cotton. âDo you have something on underneath this?â
My words die in my throat, and I manage to nod before he pulls the sweatshirt over my head and tosses it to the couch, then takes off his own gray Revolution hoodie and pulls it down over my head. I should probably be pissed that heâs being so assertive, but itâs warm and soft and smells like him, and for some seriously fucked up reason, I feel the tiniest bit less alone than I did a minute ago.
A sexy grin tugs at his full lips, and I swear to God, that look melts me.
It also jostles a faint memory free. Strong arms and a deliciously sexy scent . . .
âDid you carry me to bed?â I ask, wondering if that was a dream.
Leoâs rough hand cups my cheek, and I know immediately it wasnât a dream.
It was him.
Without thinking too hard, I run my thumb over the scruff covering his jaw, needing to feel something, and whisper the only words I have, âThank you.â
His lips brush over my forehead, and I breathe in deeply before lifting my face to his. âWhat are you doing here, Leo?â My voice comes out sharper than I intend at first, so I force myself to soften my tone. âI donât remember inviting you over, even if you did look pretty good with Lennox sleeping on your chest.â
âSo thatâs what itâs gonna take, huh? Iâm sexy holding your babies?â he teases, lightening the sudden heavy mood, and holy hell . . . hearing him talk about holding my babies, mixed with that smile, is some kind of magic.
God, yes, is what I want to say. But thatâs not the answer I give.
âDonât go putting words in my mouth, Sinclair. Nobody said sexy.â I take a step back teasingly, and he drops his hold. âWhen did you get here?â
âYou had me worried last night, Addie. Something was wrong, but you wouldnât tell me what.â He studies me in a way that makes me feel so damn vulnerable. âHow am I supposed to help you if I donât know what youâre up against?â
âWhy would you want to help me? You barely know me,â I ask him, stunned by his admission. âIâm a mess. This old house is falling apart around me, and thereâs no money to fix it. My girls are my world, which leaves very little time for anything else. What time I can find has to go to my job. My parents are dead, and Coraline is the only family I have. Like I said . . . Iâm a mess.â
Relief washes over me as I finally say everything Iâve been thinking, but itâs momentary and followed by a heavy dose of shame for laying that all at his feet. Him, of all people. What was I thinking?
This giant of a man takes one step closer, getting right into my space and removing any distance Iâd tried to put between us to help me think straight. âI donât see a mess. I see a woman whoâs holding her family together. Fighting to give her girls the world. Thereâs more to your story, Adelaide James, and one day, youâre going to trust me enough to tell it to me.â
âTell him, Addie,â Coraline lectures as she moves back into the room.
âCoralineââ I bite out, hating the vulnerability thatâs bubbling to the surface.
âNo,â she cuts me off and crosses the room until sheâs in front of me. âYou donât want to admit thereâs another option. But there is, and Iâm pretty sure heâs standing right here, offering,â she argues. âYou canât keep going on like this, Adelaide. Iâm worried about you and the girls. You donât even have a car. And the repairman said the heater is on its last leg.â
âIf you need moneyââ Leo starts, but Cori cuts him off, much to my chagrin.
âShe doesnât actually need money. She has money. She just needs access to it.â
âCoraline,â I practically yell. âShut up.â
âWhat she needs is a husband, so she can access her billion-dollar trust fund.â
âBitch,â I hiss, shaking with anger. âThat wasnât your secret to tell.â
Tears cloud my vision as I suck in a breath.
âI have the same secret, Addie. And if I could access mine to save you, I would. But I canât. Not until I finish law school and find my own husband.â She casts a glance toward Leo and softens. âHe wants to help you, sissy. Let him. You canât keep living like this.â
I turn toward Leo, absolutely mortified. âIâm so sorry she dumped this all on you. She shouldnâtâ ââ
âIâll do it,â he interrupts and my entire world tilts. âIâll marry you.â
Leo
Adelaideâs mouth opens and closes nearly as wide as her eyes as both she and Coraline stare at me in shock.
âAre you insane?â Coraline asks, and Addieâs head spins her way so fast, Iâd swear it was going to snap off her delicate neck.
âHim?â Addie screeches. âWhat about you? You just laid it all bare for him. My business, Coraline. That wasnât yours to share, and now you think heâs insane? What does that make you?â
When Coraline doesnât answer fast enough for the furious beauty in front of me, she plants her hands on her hips and turns her ire my way. âAnd you . . . are you actually insane?â
Fuck. This is definitely a trick question, and Iâm not sure thereâs any good answer.
âNot so quick to speak now, are you? So how about I do the talking for a minute, since the two of you have this all figured out. You canât marry me, Leo. You donât even know me, and even if you did, itâs not your job to save me.â
âI donât want to save you, Addie. I want to help you. Thereâs a difference. You need access to your inheritance, and I can help you get it. Whatâs wrong with that?â In no universe is any of this going to be as simple as that, and I know it. Yet somehow, the thought of marrying this woman excites me.
What the fuck does that say about me?
Iâm willing to marry her to get her to date me?
Fuck me.
Yup. Thatâs it.
Itâs backward, but itâs going to work because thereâs been something about Adelaide James since the first time I saw her at Hockey Tots.
âItâs not that simple, Leo . . .â Her voice softens.
âIt really is, Adelaide,â I try to convince her, desperate to get her to take the help Iâm offering.
âIf youâre serious, Sinclair, it really isnât that simple,â Coraline adds, looking between us. âLet me get breakfast cleaned up and Izzy occupied, so we can all discuss the details because I promise you, there is nothing about our parentsâ estate that isnât complicated.â
Adelaide doesnât move.
She doesnât offer to help with the kids.
She doesnât argue with her sister.
She stands, frozen in place, and I canât get a good read on her.
âAddie . . . tell me what youâre thinking,â I push but resist the urge to go to her. She needs space to process this, and something tells me she canât do that with me in it.
My hoodie dwarfs her, hitting her mid-thigh, and a vision of her bent over the couch with nothing on but that . . . her hips gripped in my hands . . . Fuck . . .
Thatâs a good image.
She shifts her weight and crosses her arms over her chest, plumping whatâs gotta be the most perfect breasts Iâm ever going to see . . . one day. âIâm thinking . . . what do you get out of this, Leo? Why on earth would you agree to this?â
âWhy wouldnât I? I can help you, so let me.â Not going to her right now, when all I want to do is touch herâto hold her and ask if she really doesnât feel this between us . . . if she really doesnât understand why Iâd do this . . . holding my groundâis one of the hardest things Iâve ever done.
âI just donât understand how it can be so easy for you. Thatâs not real, Leo. Nobody is that much of a nice guy.â She shakes her head, frustrated. âNot without wanting something in return.â
Fuck this.
I cross the distance in two steps and have her face in my hands before her next fucking breath. âIâm a lot of things, Adelaide. Iâm a good man, a great fucking hockey player, and a pretty good friend. Iâm not sure what Iâm going to have to do to convince you I am a nice guy. But only to the people I give a shit about, and sweetheart, you are on that list. You have been since the minute you stormed into the arena, pissed at the world, and didnât even look at me.â Addie rolls her lips together and bites down, and I fucking groan and run my thumb along her lower lip. âAnd I never said there wasnât something in this for me too.â
âCan today be a pajama day, Mom?â Izzy darts out of the kitchen, and I drop my hands and take a step back.
Adelaideâs attention jumps from me to her daughter, and she runs a gentle hand over her wild hair. âI donât know what weâve got planned for today, Izz.â
âAunt Cori said I could watch Frozen.â She spins around in her pajamas as if to say, look, Mom. âIâm already in my Elsa pjâs. Please, Mom.â
Addie sighs and looks over Izzyâs shoulder at Coraline, who just walked back in the room with Lennox. She hesitates but gives in, and this kid knows it before her mom ever opens her mouth. âFine.â
Izzy practically tackles Addie as she throws her arms around her neck. âPJ days are the best days. Thanks, Mom.â
âLove you, Izz. Now, how about you go grab a blanket and find a spot on the couch? Do you need help putting it on?â
âNope. I got this,â the tiny tornado answers before taking off toward another room.
âWhereâs she going?â I ask, having assumed sheâd be plopping down on the couch I slept on.
With her eyes still locked on where Izz just ran off, Addie shakes her head. âShe has a playroom in the back of the house. It used to be Granâs solarium. Itâs her favorite room.â
âEven better. She doesnât need to be part of this conversation.â Coraline passes Lennox to me. âHave you ever changed a diaper, number ten?â
âCoriââ Addie throws her hands in the air when I laugh.
âIâve changed a few. My sisters have a ton of kids.â
Coraline giggles. âIâm kidding. I just changed her. I just wanted my hands free, so I could grab my computer. Weâve got some things to discuss.â
âNo, we donât,â Addie argues with a little less force behind it this time.
Coraline clicks her tongue as she picks up a cherry-red laptop from an end table. She slides down to the floor and rests her laptop on her knees with her back to the couch. âYeah, ya do. Look at it this way, sissy. Heâs perfect. Your kids like him. Heâs not after your money because heâs got his own, and truth be told, you could even offer him a settlement at the end of the marriage. And letâs not forget heâs pretty to look at too.â
âHeâs also right here,â I remind her, and she laughs at me.
âDonât like being objectified?â Coraline laughs.
âNope. That partâs fine. I just wanted to remind you,â I tease, trying to thaw the ice thatâs formed in the room. Part of me knows this plan is insane, but the rest of me isnât so sure it is. That part, the bigger part doesnât give a shit that it all sounds nuts. It just wants to take care of Addie. âAnd I donât need any of your money. Iâve got plenty of my own.â
âLeo,â Addie pleads, her soft expression giving me everything her words wonât. âI canât ask you to do this.â
âYou didnât ask,â I remind her. âI offered.â
Lennox whimpers, and I sway from side to side, the way my niece Molly used to like.
Addie chews her thumbnail for a minute, then peeks over the back of Coralineâs laptop. âWas there a stipulation for how long I have to be married?â
âWho the hell were your parents that they made that kind of a stipulation in the first place?â I ask the one thing thatâs been eating at me since Coraline spilled her guts earlier.
The sisters look at each other in a way that screams Iâm not going to like what Iâm about to hear. âDonât leave me hanging now, guys.â
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