Page 68 of Merry Fake Bride

Kairo is a wounded man.

Underneath those fancy suits, that sexy, suave smile, and his quiet wit, he’s as wounded as I am. I never expected such pain to pour out of him quite like it did on that bridge, nor did I expect him to be carrying something so heavy given how unaffected he seems to the world.

It’s a credit to how he presents himself to everyone and reminds me a little of the act I put on to appear normal.

The light around him seems different now, and something has definitely changed between us.

I can’t put my finger on exactly what, and I don’t have the time to think about it because as soon as we stumble inside, my mother and father are there to greet us.

“Devon!” Mom rushes forward with worry flooding her eyes. “Thank goodness! When the blizzard hit and we hadn’t heard from you, I was so scared!”

“It’s my fault.” Kairo speaks up from behind us. “I kept her too late in the city and should have called.”

Tension bleeds through the air as we stamp snow from our boots and shake off any lingering snow not immediately melted from the heat in my home.

The last time Kairo saw my parents, it did not go well.

I hadn’t considered that this might actually be a terrible idea. But I know they won’t turn them back out into that storm.

Suddenly, my dad strides forward and holds his hand out to Kairo.

“It’s good of you to cover Devon’s medical bills,” he says gruffly. “An expense like that is heavy no matter your riches, and I appreciate it.”

Kairo stares at my father with as much surprise as I do, then he quickly removes his leather glove and firmly clasps his hand in return.

“It’s no problem at all. I feel responsible but regardless, I’m glad I could help.”

“Yes,” Mom pipes up. “That’s very generous of you.”

“I invited them to stay,” I say while shrugging off my jacket. “Driving back to the city in that storm is far too dangerous.”

My dad clears his throat as his hand drops away from Kairo’s. “That’s fine. We can set you up in the spare room. And this is…?”

All eyes turn to Martin who’s gently stamping his feet and blowing on his cold, pink fingers. “Martin.”

“My driver,” Kairo adds.

“Nice to meet you, Martin.” Mom smiles and then leaps into action. “I’ll set up the spare room. Hank, can you get the thicker blankets down from the top of the closet for me? Devon, put the kettle on and let’s get you all warmed up.”

There’s a flurry of activity and before long, the spare bedroom is set up to sleep and the three of us are no longer shivering in time to our heartbeats.

“I know it’s not a five-star hotel,” I say as I lean against the doorframe while Kairo eases his fine leather shoes off, “but it’ll keep you warm and dry.”

“Better than a five-star,” Martin groans from face down on the bed, splayed out like a starfish. “Smells like home.”

“Is there a chance of another pillow? I’m taking the floor,” Kairo says as he stands.

“Really?” Martin lifts his head, and while he looks surprised that he’s getting the bed, he makes absolutely no move to shift himself.

“Really. I’m not the one who has to drive us back in the morning.”

Martin groans and thrusts his face back into the pillow.

“Not bad for your first night at your fiancée’s, right?” I tease with a little smile as Kairo removes his tie.

“Fiancée?” Mom’s screech from behind me makes me jump right out of my skin and I whirl around.

She stands in the hallway, brandishing another blanket and a pillow tucked under one arm.