Chapter 13

LAYLA

“Did you even taste that?” Briggs teased, eyeing my empty plate.

“Your moms are really good cooks.”

I’d been invited to dine with Briggs and his family for the third night in a row. They didn’t treat me like an employee. I wasn’t sure how comfortable I was with that, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Mary didn’t seem to mind. She was a bit of a control freak, who liked order and boundaries between the employer and employees.

When Briggs invited her to join us the first night, she declined, opting to eat with Sonya in the kitchen. I had a feeling Mary wanted to be the only nanny. She didn’t really need me, and we both knew it.

Iona and Sophia took over the kitchen as soon as they arrived. Both women were trained chefs. They had their own popular cooking show and several published cookbooks.

“Briggs is a great cook too,” Bonnie said.

“Of course he is,” Iona huffed. “He learned from the best.”

“Have you cooked for Layla yet, Briggs?” Blaire asked.

“No. But she made me breakfast at my condo.”

“Interesting,” Bonnie drawled, wiggling her eyebrows. “I thought you came directly here from the hospital.”

“We did. She was staying with me before the babies were discharged.”

“What did you make, Layla?”

“A quiche,” I said quietly.

“It was delicious,” Briggs said, reaching over to rub my shoulder. We never talked about what happened in his bedroom the night of the pool party.

But he hadn’t exactly kept his hands to himself. He touched me whenever the opportunity presented itself. I was starting to relax around him. And I enjoyed our flirtatious banter.

“Blaire and I are planning an overnight trip to Toronto,” Bonnie said. “Can we borrow a car?”

“Sure,” Briggs agreed. “Are you going to stay at the condo?”

“No. We want to stay in the hotel where the spa is.”

“Okay. When are you going?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Where is the spa?”

“Vaughan.”

“That’s good. Driving downtown is challenging if you’re not used to the traffic.”

“We drive in Vancouver, Briggs.”

“Not the same,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“We were thinking of taking Layla with us,” Blaire announced.

“I can’t go away for two days,” I said. “But I appreciate the offer. It was very thoughtful of you.”

“Mom and Iona are here to help with the babies.”

“I can’t,” I said. “But thank you.”

“Why not?” Bonnie persisted.

“I should help Sonya with the dishes,” I said, pushing my chair back.

The kitchen was empty. I got to work rinsing dishes. The mothers may have been talented chefs, but they made one hell of a mess.

Sonya was probably upstairs helping Mary with the babies. This was where I was supposed to be because I was the hired help.

I wasn’t Briggs’s girlfriend. But that was how his family had been treating me since they arrived.

There was no way I could afford to go to a fancy spa. And Bonnie and Blaire were rich. They would probably eat at expensive restaurants. Why did they want me to tag along anyway?

We had nothing in common. They were thirty-eight-year-old women. Why did they want to hang out with a twenty-year-old?

I froze when a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist.

“Why did you run away?” Briggs whispered, his lips grazing my earlobe.

“I didn’t.”

He grasped my hips, gently turning me so I was facing him. I stared straight ahead, focusing on the buttons on his shirt.

“Why don’t you want to go to the spa?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug.

He tilted my chin up with his thumb, his eyes boring into mine as the heat ignited between us. “I will pay for everything.”

“No way,” I said. “I’m not a charity case.”

“It’s not charity.”

“I’m not a whore either.”

He laughed, one of those deep rumbles from low in his chest. “I hope not.”

“I’m being serious, Briggs.”

He brought his hand up to my face, caressing my jaw while he studied me thoughtfully.

“I would never take advantage of you like that, Layla. You deserve to have nice things, and I ~want~ to give them to you. I don’t expect anything in return.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t ~expect~ anything. But I’m interested in exploring this attraction between us.”

“I-I-I’m—“ I stuttered, my mind racing to process what was happening. Briggs Westinghouse wanted to have sex with me. Wasn’t that what he meant?

Surely, he didn’t want a relationship with me. I was eighteen years younger than him. And I was Shelly’s sister. What would she do if she found out?

Briggs pulled away when footsteps sounded on the stairs. I turned back to the sink.

“What are you doing, Layla?” Sonya asked. “I can take care of this.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

“Can I tell Bonnie and Blaire you’ll join them on the trip?” Briggs asked.

“Okay,” I agreed, glancing over my shoulder. “But I want you to take it out of my pay.”

“Sure thing,” he chortled.

“Briggs!”

He ignored me, disappearing into the dining room.

***

“Layla, there you are!” Bonnie exclaimed, charging into the nursery. “Blaire and I are going out to the hot tub. Why don’t you join us?”

“I can’t. I have to bathe the babies and get them ready for bed.”

“I can handle it,” Mary said. “Go ahead.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“No worries. I brought a few new suits. We’re about the same size in all the important places.” Blaire laughed as she grabbed my wrist and dragged me from the room.

“I can’t wear that,” I said when Bonnie handed me a skimpy pink bikini with tiny white polka dots.

“Why not?”

“I’d feel really self-conscious.”

“It’s just us girls,” Blaire said. “And you have a dishy body, sweetheart. When you have a rack like yours, you should flaunt it.”

***

I cringed at my reflection in the full-length mirror in my bedroom. The bikini didn’t leave much to the imagination. The tiny top barely kept my tits contained. And my ass was hanging out.

I pulled a long T-shirt over my head, praying I wouldn’t run into Briggs.

Bonnie and Blaire met up with me at the top of the back staircase. I followed them downstairs and outside, silently willing them to be quiet.

I didn’t know where Briggs had disappeared after dinner, and I didn’t want to draw his attention. I wasn’t ready for him to see me half-naked.

I’d never seen the hot tub without the cover on. And I’d never been in one before. We didn’t have a bathtub in our mobile home, just a moldy shower.

The bathroom I shared with Mary didn’t have a tub, which was why I was about to experience my very first bath, at twenty years old. How sad was that!

I slid under the hot, bubbly water, moaning softly when the heat penetrated my skin. What an amazing feeling! I could stay in here all night.

The jets buzzed softly against my back, the tension draining from my body as I slid deeper into the wood and marble paradise.

I gazed up at the sky. The silent beauty of stars strewn across a black canvas took my breath away. I never wanted to live in the city again.

My asthma had all but disappeared since I came up north. I hadn’t used my puffer once. Between the pollution and the cigarette smoke of the city, my lungs didn’t stand a chance.

My mother was a heavy smoker, hence her early death from lung cancer. She always smoked in the house. And most of her boyfriends smoked.

Shelly didn’t smoke, so my asthma had been steadily improving since my mother died. But this was the longest I’d ever gone without needing my puffer.

“We’re so glad you decided to join us tomorrow,” Blaire said.

“Are you sure you want me tagging along?”

“Yes,” Bonnie replied firmly. “No changing your mind. We have two days of stuff planned.”

“What else are we doing?”

“Shopping!” Blaire squealed.

“I don’t have much money,” I said. “But I’ll have fun watching you guys.”

“You have Briggs’s credit card, honey. You’re going to be doing more than watching.”

“I can’t use his card,” I protested. “He’s my boss. It’s not right.”

“He gave it to me,” Blaire said. “Not because he doesn’t trust you. He just knew you wouldn’t use it. He gave us orders to buy you a whole new wardrobe.”

“I’m not comfortable doing that.”

“Oh, honey,” Bonnie sighed, sliding across the bench so she was sitting right next to me. “Get used to being spoiled. I’ve never seen my brother swoon over a girl before.

“He’s got it bad for you. And he’s got more money than he knows what to do with. If he wants to spend it on you, let him!”

The sound of the patio door opening, followed by heavy footsteps, sent me sinking further under the water. Briggs appeared, dressed in navy swim shorts with a towel slung over his arm.

“Layla?” He looked shocked to see me out there. I knew it was a bad idea. I should’ve stayed upstairs with Mary, where I belonged.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll leave. Mary said she could handle things, but I should probably see if she needs help.” Except that would require me to stand up.

And there was no way I was doing that. What if he ordered me out of the hot tub? I’d have to grab my towel and cover up fast.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said. “My mothers are helping out with the babies.”

“We should go in, Blaire,” Bonnie suggested.

“Yeah,” Blaire agreed, rising.

“Why did you text me and invite me out here, then?” Briggs asked, pulling his shirt over his head.

“That text was from last night,” Bonnie said.

He climbed over the side and sat down. “No, it was sent ten minutes ago.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, little brother,” Blaire chuckled.

“Uh-huh,” he muttered.

“Good night, guys,” Bonnie called out before the sisters disappeared inside the house, giggling like a couple of teenage girls.

~Well, this wasn’t awkward at all.~

“Sorry about that. My sisters are kind of immature.”

“Maybe that explains why they wanna hang out with a twenty-year-old.”

“I think you’re very mature for your age,” he said, his husky voice penetrating the steam barrier between us.

I dared a glance across the tub. He was staring at me. I swallowed noisily, sliding deeper under the water. My damn boobs were like life preservers, determined to float back up to the surface.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Layla?”

“No,” I lied.

“Then why do you look terrified?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re free to leave whenever you want to.”

“Do you want me to leave, Briggs?”

“Definitely not,” he stated. “Do you want to leave?”

“No,” I whispered, my belly twisting into a nervous ball of knots.

“Why are you afraid of me, Layla?”

“I—um—” I ran my finger through a cluster of bubbles on the surface of the water. “I don’t have much—um—much experience with boys. And you’re a grown man.

“I’m not exactly sure what you have in mind, but I don’t sleep around. Actually, I don’t sleep at all.” I laughed, the sound coming out all high-pitched and weird.

“I sleep. Like at night, with my eyes closed and all that. But I don’t sleep with boys. Or men. Or women. Ever. I’ve never done ~that~ with anyone.”

~Oh man. What a time to have a severe bout of verbal diarrhea.~

I squeezed my eyes shut, praying he would just get up and leave, and we could pretend this conversation never happened.

Between the heat from the jacuzzi and my embarrassment, I fully expected to burst into flames at any moment. Was he still there? I couldn’t be sure. I cracked one eye open. He was still there, his face inscrutable.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally cleared his throat and spoke. “I’m not looking for a fuck buddy. I’ve been there and done that. I’m not gonna lie to you, Layla.

“I’ve slept with a lot of women over the years. I’m sure you’ve heard rumors about me. But those days are behind me.”

“What ~are~ you looking for?”

“I wasn’t looking for any type of relationship. My plan was to put all my energy into being a great dad to my boys. And that hasn’t changed.”

“Sensible thought,” I said.

“I keep telling myself that you’re too young, and it would really complicate things if I got involved with you. But I feel drawn to you. I want to spend time alone with you, and get to know you better.”

“You wanna date me?”

“Sure,” he said slowly. “But I don’t think you would enjoy going out in public with me. Especially not right now. The paparazzi are dying to get in my face and harass me about the babies.”

“I didn’t mean that. Dating means hanging out with someone who you may or may not be hooking up with.”

“I see,” he chuckled. “In my day, we called it going out, or going steady.”

“If you’re going steady, you say you’re boo’d up or cuffing.”

“What?”

“Boo’d up means you’re in the initial stage of a relationship when you first start hooking up. Cuffing means you’re getting serious.”

He rose from the water, the moonlight bouncing off his eight-pack of man muscle as he crossed the hot tub in two long strides.

“I’m interested in ~booing~ and ~cuffing~ with you,” he whispered.