Chapter 7

LAYLA

I stared out the window, watching the rain slap against the glass while the wind howled across the terrace. Darkness crept over the city as day turned to evening.

My belly rumbled. Briggs had been out most of the day. I decided to go down and fix myself some dinner. It was getting late. He was probably eating out somewhere.

Maybe he was on a date.

It was our last night alone together. The babies were to be released the following day. We would be driving to the house in the Muskokas.

Mary Poppins was meeting us at the hospital. I’d not seen much of Briggs in the past couple of days, anyway. But why was I disappointed about that?

Briggs was my boss. Not my boyfriend. I would do well to remember that.

I headed downstairs and flipped on the kitchen light. Maybe I’d just make a sandwich. I was taking the ingredients out of the fridge when I heard the elevator coming up.

Briggs stepped out with his arms full of takeout bags.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey. I brought some dinner.”

“I was just gonna make a sandwich.”

“I see that,” he said as he set the bags on the counter. “I picked us up some sushi.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’ll just stick with a sandwich.”

“You don’t like sushi?”

“I prefer my fish cooked,” I mumbled, grabbing the loaf of bread.

He took the bread from my hands and placed it back in the breadbox. “Have you ever eaten sushi?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know you don’t like it?”

“It’s raw fish, Briggs!” I cried.

“It’s not all raw fish,” he chuckled. “I’ll tell you what. You try one piece, and if you don’t like it I’ll order you in whatever you want.”

“I don’t know,” I said nervously.

He opened the bag and pulled out a plastic tray.

“That looks revolting,” I whined.

He lifted the lid and grabbed some chopsticks from the drawer.

“I don’t know how to use chopsticks,” I declared. “I guess I can’t eat sushi.”

He picked up one of the weird-looking rolls, bringing it to my mouth.

“Is that seaweed?” I gasped, backing up against the counter.

“It’s Nori,” he chuckled.

I clamped my lips shut, shaking my head.

“C’mon, Layla,” he sang, “open up.”

When those dark eyes burned into mine, I forgot all about the roll of disgusting crap hovering outside my mouth. My insides turned to mush, my lips parting as my nipples hardened. And then he shoved the entire thing inside!

It was too much for my tiny mouth! I tried to turn around so I could spit it out into the sink. But he had me boxed in, his hands resting against the counter on either side of me.

“Chew it up,” he whispered, his mouth so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath on my lips. Was he trying to seduce me or make me vomit? I wasn’t quite sure.

I did the only thing I could do. I chewed. There were a lot of different flavors and textures inside that roll.

Rice of course. And something mushy and slimy that I suspected might be avocado. Cucumber. Something spicy. And another slimy ingredient that I tried to pretend wasn’t raw fish.

Briggs didn’t budge until I finished swallowing. How dare he force me to eat something!

“You liked it,” he said, grinning triumphantly.

I glared at him before ducking under his arm and grabbing my water bottle from the island. He turned around, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

“It was okay,” I admitted.

“See! I knew you’d like it.”

“Can I try a different one?” I asked, my stomach growling as I eyed the sushi platter.

“Of course,” he said, grabbing two plates from the cupboard.

***

“I’m stuffed,” I moaned.

“For someone who turned her nose up at sushi, you sure ate lots,” Briggs chuckled.

“I thought sushi was just chunks of raw fish.”

He threw his head back, his raucous laughter echoing off the high ceilings of the penthouse.

“I’m glad you find the poor girl from the trailer park so amusing,” I snapped.

“I’m sorry, Layla,” he said. “I’m not laughing at you, I’m—.”

“Laughing with me,” I said drily, finishing his sentence.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s fine,” I said as I started clearing the table.

He got up to help, reaching around me while I rinsed our plates in the sink. I shivered when his fingers trailed lightly across my hip, his breathing heavy as his chest pressed against my back.

If I were the heroine of one of my favorite romance novels, this might be the point in the story when the sexy man would spin me around and kiss me senselessly.

But this wasn’t a fantasy, and Briggs wasn’t my romantic lead. He was my boss, the man my sister had become so obsessed with that she drugged him and had sex with him.

He stepped away, busying himself with storing the leftovers in the fridge. I loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counter while an awkward silence filled the small kitchen.

“I guess I’ll head upstairs,” I said. “Good night.”

I was on the third step when he finally spoke. “We could watch a movie or something.”

I froze in mid-step. Briggs wanted to hang out?! Did ~something~ mean make out? I had no experience with boys.

Watching my mom and sister fuck their way through the male population of Dorset Meadows had squashed any incipient desire in me for companionship with the opposite sex.

I turned around, surprised to find him standing at the foot of the stairs.

My stomach muscles tightened, heat and moisture forming between my thighs as his eyes traveled slowly up my body, his lips curling into a suggestive grin.

The heroines in the dime romances always talked about panty-melting smiles. And they were actually real!

“Okay,” I squeaked.

~Okay? No!~ ~Take it back, Layla! Turn around and march up those stairs this instant.~

“Great!” he said. “I’ll make some popcorn while you find something for us to watch.”

I walked down the stairs and in the direction of the den. Briggs didn’t have a TV in the living room.

I sat down on the leather sectional and grabbed the remote, my hand shaking so much I could barely hang onto it.

~Get a grip, Layla.~

I shook my head at my own stupidity. He hadn’t invited me in here to have sex with him. We were going to watch a movie.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, he wasn’t looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off. That was all in my head. I’d been reading too much smut these past couple of days because I had nothing else to do.

I had quit my job at the diner. When I told my boss I’d been offered a position as a nanny for Briggs Westinghouse, she screamed.

And when I told her I was staying at his penthouse until the triplets were released from the hospital, she sent me packing with hugs and best wishes, making me promise to invite her to the wedding.

~As if.~

Billie read more romance novels than I did. She gave me a Kindle with hundreds of books in it. My boss had been a good friend to me, and she was a hopeless romantic.

She would never give up hope that her prince was out there somewhere; despite having dated a long line of jerks.

But that was just a fantasy. There were no princes, and even if there were, Briggs wasn’t mine. Someday, I might meet my hero. But for now, I was content to get the romance from my books.

It was safer this way. Fictional heroes don’t call you names or hit you. They don’t take drugs or steal from you. And they never take off after knocking you up.

Those were precisely the kind of men my mother and sister dated. I’d rather be alone than have a guy like that.

I logged into Netflix to search for a movie. Briggs didn’t seem like the romantic comedy kind of guy. He’d probably prefer an action flick.

“No way,” I whispered. “Briggs would never watch a show like that.”

“A show like what?”

I jumped and almost toppled right off the edge of the sofa.

Briggs set a large bowl of popcorn and two sodas on the coffee table. “Were you snooping through my history?”

“No!” I cried. “I swear. It just came up. Netflix does that. It’s like they think you might forget what programs you’re watching and need to be reminded.”

“Relax, Layla,” he chuckled. “I’m just teasing you.”

“Oh.”

“You blush a lot,” he said, his sexy grin making his dimples pronounced.

~Annnd~ my panties were wet again. Actually, they were probably still wet from earlier, but now they were even wetter. Dripping. Oh God! What if I left a wet spot on the sofa?

“Did you really watch ~Virgin River?~” I asked.

“You can’t tell anybody,” he warned.

“I signed a nondisclosure agreement.”

“True. You did.”

“I can’t believe the big, tough hockey player watches a chick show.”

“It’s not a chick show.”

“Well, I happen to love it,” I said.

“You’re a chick. You’re allowed.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a guy watching a love story.”

“It’s more than just a love story,” he said. “And it’s filmed near where I grew up. I think that’s what draws me to it.”

“You’re from Vancouver?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How come you play for Toronto?”

“This is just where I ended up,” he shrugged. “Was drafted by New Orleans, but they traded me to Toronto after a couple of seasons. I helped them win their first cup in my second year. They thanked me by sending my ass up here to Canada.”

“Who do you think shot Jack?”

“Definitely Charmaine,” he declared. “That chick is bat shit crazy.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think it’s going to be someone we’d never suspect.”

“Maybe.”

“What movie would you like to watch?” I asked.

“You pick.”

“You wouldn’t like anything I picked,” I said.

“I might surprise you.”

“Okay then. Would you like some popcorn, Layla?”

“Um, sure.”

He patted the cushion next to him. “I don’t bite.”

I slid my ass across the leather, settling beside him. Reaching for the bowl of popcorn, he placed it between us while I searched for my favorite movie.

“You got a thing for Ryan Reynolds?” he teased when I clicked on ~The Proposal.~

“He’s not bad to look at. But that’s not why I like this movie.”

“Why do you like it?” he mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn.

“I love Alaska.”

“Have you been there?”

“No. But I’d love to go someday.”

“It’s cold there.”

“I wasn’t planning to go in the middle of winter.”

“I think it’s even cold in the summer.”

“I don’t care,” I said with a dreamy sigh. “I want to see all the wildlife. The bears and the moose. Whales. And I’d really love to see polar bears.”

“What about the glaciers?”

“Those too. And don’t forget about the bald eagles.”

“You can see a lot of those things in British Columbia.”

“Not polar bears.”

“True,” he chuckled. “We definitely don’t have polar bears in the Vancouver area.”

We reached for the popcorn simultaneously, and our slippery fingers rubbed together. Even before I looked up I knew he was staring at me. Our eyes locked momentarily, the heat between us enough to pop the stray kernels in the bowl.

The whole thing was so cliché. In my books, the situation would’ve led to a frenetic make out session. In real life, not so much. He withdrew his hand and turned back to the TV while he wiped his fingers on a napkin.

We watched the remainder of the movie in silence, before going upstairs. We parted with a formal ~good night.~

I should’ve been relieved that nothing happened. Right? It would’ve made things very awkward. Briggs might decide to let me go. He’d probably think I was a slut just like my sister and fire me.

At least we wouldn’t be alone together at the Muskoka house. The other nanny would be there, along with the housekeeper and Vlad. Not to mention the triplets.

There would be no time for any hanky-panky with my boss. I knew that was for the best, but a small part of me was disappointed that Briggs hadn’t made a move on me.