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Chapter Eighteen

Adeline

One last check in the mirror, though I wasn’t sure what good it would do. I looked tired, but that was the lot of the nanny.

A text came in from Rosie.

You ready for some action?

Me

No action. This is just a getting to know you kind of thing.

Rosie

You kidding? Rowan MacFarlane has the hots for you! When’s the last time you got any?

Two days ago. Did not end well. Of course I couldn’t tell Rosie. She’d let me have it for being a total fool.

Rosie

Because I know when. It was that British guy at the hostel in Bangkok. And MacFarlane is hotter than him!

My recollection was that the Brit and his friend had practically duked it out over Rosie and I was left with the loser.

He’d fallen asleep before anything memorable happened, leaving me relieved and with plenty of time to concoct a story for my friend.

All good, great orgasms! Her concern for my sexual health was a tad intense.

Me

Just a date. Don’t pressure me. And I’m wearing my granny panties, so nothing can happen.

Rosie

Okay. Okay. I just want you to be happy. And the sooner you get out there, the quicker that’ll happen.

This morning, we’d interviewed two more candidates for the nanny position.

Neither came up to Lars’s lofty standards—one was too nervous, the other too confident—which meant I was on the hook for this temp gig for even longer.

If I was to continue working for Lars, I needed to start looking elsewhere for company of the male variety, hence my reaching out to Rowan.

I was going into this date with high expectations of success.

After all, I wasn’t completely hideous. Lars Nyquist had used me as spank bank material once.

Armed with the confidence that knowledge gave me and ignoring the awkward aftermath, I headed downstairs. Outside the living room, I listened to Lars chatting with Mabel. As usual he was having deep conversations with her about hockey, which made me smile.

“See that guy? That’s Dan Fogerty, a semi-decent center but he’s not getting by me next Tuesday.”

Pause, while he weighed Mabel’s response.

“You think he’s better than me? Not sure where you’re getting your information. Because I could totally take that guy.”

Another pause.

“My stats are way better than his, sweetheart. Adeline told me so. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Super. Cute.

But then I remembered I was supposed to be mad at him, or at the very least neutral, because he had the common sense to stop that kiss but still thought it was a good idea to tell me how frustrated I made him. We weren’t that friendly.

I called out, “See you later!” When I pulled the front door open, it shut again without my input. A large hand spread flat against the oak.

I could scent him in my nostrils and that smell—cedar, citrus, what-the-fuck-Lars—made me weak at the knees. Annoyed with his effect on me, I turned.

Another smoldering gaze from him, this time dragging erotically against my skin, my breasts, my belly, which responded predictably and flipped like a dying fish.

“You’re all dressed up.” He took a step back and got a better look. “Going out with Rosie?”

“No. A date.”

The words should have meant nothing to him. After all, he’d made his position clear.

This. Can’t. Happen.

I knew where I stood, but right now my standing felt shaky, both metaphorically and literally.

“Who?” The word was a graveled utterance, more beast than man.

“It’s just casual.”

“Not what I asked.”

This was none of his business. “I need to go.”

I tried the door again, but didn’t get far. Lars’s many-muscled arm stretched over my head, keeping it shut and my body trapped.

“Who are you going on a date with?” His mouth was a slash. If I’d had my wits about me, I’d have said he was angry.

“You made it clear this wasn’t your concern.”

His eyes flashed. “That’s different.”

“Is it? You’re not interested so I’m not going to wait around for you to become interested, Lars.”

His voice was low, dangerous. “So your first response is to call up some guy and go on a date?”

“He already asked, and I figured why not? I haven’t done anything fun since I got back from my travels.” Listening to you jerk off doesn’t count. “And I want to stop being such a … coward.”

He took a step back, hands on trim hips. “Because of what happened in Greece? Hell, you don’t need to go on a date to prove your bravery, Adeline. You’re here, living your life, saying fuck you to that Greek asshole. You were never a coward.”

The words stopped me cold. Maybe he was right, but I still needed to test myself in the fires of real life. Mostly, I wanted out of here, away from that soulful stare and macho swagger. I almost asked, “Am I free to leave?” when the doorbell rang.

Shit.

I had told Rowan I’d meet him at the end of the driveway. Lars was already moving to the door, and I had no choice but to step aside. Nervously, I watched as his expression went from concerned to confusion.

“MacFarlane?”

“I’m here for Adeline.”

“You’re here for—” As Lars turned his head my way, I pulled the door open, so I didn’t look like a complete weirdo, hiding away.

“Hi, Rowan.”

“Hey, Adeline.” Rowan smiled, then took a quick look over me. “You look gorgeous.”

“Oh, thanks.” I could feel my cheeks getting hot. “That’s kind of you. Can you hold on a sec?”

Avoiding Lars seemed like the best option, which I managed by popping in to say goodbye to his daughter. Mabel was lying on her tummy in the octagon, doing dry laps. She had her arms outstretched, planking like a boss.

I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “Be good, Mabel. Look after your pop for me.”

I turned to find Lars staring at me—or rather my ass. My bend over the bars of the playpen had exposed the backs of my thighs. The skirt of this dress was a little shorter than I was used to, but Rosie had claimed it made my tits look great.

Lars’s lip curl indicated distinct disagreement. Apparently flesh offended him.

“I left a couple of bottles in the fridge. Just warm them to?—”

“I know,” he gutted out. “It’s the one thing I do know how to do.”

Rowan had stepped inside and was watching the dynamic between us with interest.

“Night in with the kid, Nyquist? Sounds like a blast.” He smirked, and I had to fight my urge to say, “Watch your mouth, dick!”

Not a great way to start a date.

“Have a good night,” I murmured as I walked past Lars.

“Adeline.” I turned back to face him. “Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything .”

“I won’t.” I said it with as much cheer as possible. The last thing I needed was Lars Nyquist’s ghost on my date.

I looked around, a little surprised that Rowan had taken me to Viper, a famous nightclub in downtown Chicago. It was barely eight in the evening.

“They do really good sliders,” he said.

Heading to a club for its cuisine was unexpected, but then so far it had been one awkward moment after another.

Once in Rowan’s car, he took a selfie, or an “ussie” as Rosie called it, a term I despised because it was so stupid. He hadn’t liked the first shot nor the second, but the third time was the charm. (“You don’t look like you’ve been taken hostage in that one.”)

“You’re not going to post that, are you?” Asked because he then spent a few moments fixing the contrast and adding a filter. We hadn’t even left Lars’s driveway.

“You ashamed to be hanging with me?”

“No, not at all. But we’ve only just met.” My social interactions with dates tended toward the old-fashioned. Didn’t anyone want to start slow?

He smiled. “Sure, we can hold off on the PDA.”

Not sure an ussie qualified as PDA, but I let it pass. As we headed to downtown Chicago, Rowan had plenty of questions about the setup with Lars.

“You live there?”

“It makes the most sense to keep things consistent for Mabel.”

“The old man can’t be dealing with this baby shit all that well.”

My hackles spiked. Old man? He’s only thirteen years older than me. Through gritted teeth, I said, “He’s doing great. An absolute natural.”

“The guy looked terrified when that chick dropped the kid in his lap. Wrap it before you tap it, that’s what I say.”

“Well, condoms have an 11 to 16% failure rate, so sometimes it can’t be helped.”

Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, but there are always ways to handle that after the fact. And this chick didn’t even want the baby if she’s dumping it on Nyquist.”

It’s really none of your business. I was about to open my mouth to say so, but we’d arrived at the club and Rowan was already handing his keys to the valet.

Once seated, a very attractive brunette wearing a backless halter top and a skirt that stopped just short of her vagina stopped by.

“Hi, I’m Candi. Want to hear about our slider de jour?” The smirk said double entendre, the arched eyebrow said there’s more where that came from.

Rowan grinned while giving her the thrice over. It was as if he’d forgotten he was on a date. “Sure, tell me all about it.”

She launched into a recitation of the slider de jour—lamb merguez with a slice of brie. It sounded pretty good, actually, but I was too nervous to eat.

“You want something, babe?” Rowan asked.

Babe. Shudder. “I’ll just have a glass of Prosecco please.”

Rowan put in four orders of sliders ( they’re so small! ) and an Ardbeg single malt. Guess I was taking a taxi home.

“Your family must be thrilled to have you back.”

“I think so. They’re a busy lot so I haven’t seen as much of them as I’d like.”

“You close to Hatch?”

“Very.” Though not as much as before. Hatch seemed moodier these days, not the fun-loving guy I remembered. Playing on the same team as Theo Kershaw had to be tough. “What about you guys?”

“Kershaw Junior? Sure, we’re not rivals for the same lines, so we get along fine. Your dad’s awesome, too. Not sure partnering with Nyquist is best for the team, though.”

Alarm bells went off in my head. Yet another dig at Lars.

“But you’re on the same team, right? Isn’t it one for all and all for one?”

He looked at me like I didn’t get it. Maybe I didn’t. I wasn’t a player.

Candi came back with the drinks and Rowan asked her if she’d take our photo. As she fiddled with the phone, he slid over to my side of the booth and put his arm around me.

“Let’s make it a good one.”

Unlike the others was the implication. I raised my glass because he raised his and I tried not to recoil at the way he pressed his body close to mine. He was attractive, supposedly interested in me, and most importantly, not my dad’s closest friend. I should be enjoying myself.

We spent the next few minutes chatting about Chicago and favorite places to eat.

All of his were clubs which, again, weird.

I wasn’t very good at keeping the conversation going but Rowan didn’t seem to mind.

He was a multitasker: drinking, eating, chatting, texting.

I wasn’t even all that annoyed at his phone etiquette.

It just confirmed what I suspected: I wasn’t interesting enough to date.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom and called Rosie.

“Oh, this can’t be good.”

She knew me so well. “Just checking in.”

“Is it truly going terribly or are you trying to tank it?”

“I’m not sure we have any chemistry.” Not like I had with a certain someone. “And he’s asking tons of questions about my dad and Lars. It’s weird.” It reminded me of guys I dated in college who were only interested in me when they discovered my last name.

“He’s asking you those things because that’s what you have in common. Have you told him anything about yourself? That you like music? Art? Books? Hockey stats?”

“He hasn’t asked.”

Rosie sighed. “Take charge of the conversation. Offer things about yourself and see if he responds.” She said something to someone in her orbit, then returned to me. “Go back out there and sparkle.”

Sparkle. That was Rosie’s approach to everything. It was easy to sparkle when you were as gifted and interesting as my friend. I didn’t have the effervescence gene.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

I checked my reflection but unfortunately, I hadn’t become more desirable in the last five minutes. My phone buzzed with a call from Lars. I answered immediately, worried about Mabel.

“Is everything okay?”

“That’s what I’m calling to ask you.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s fine. We’re at some club.” I added, “Having dinner.”

“Dinner at the club. Sounds great.”

I was allowed to think that, not him. “What would you know? When’s the last time you went on a date? Oh, that’s right, you just bang them in bar bathrooms. So romantic.”

I sounded unbelievably jealous. There was a pause, then Lars spoke again. “I just wanted to be sure you were safe. That you … felt safe.”

Never mind safe, I now felt guilty. And stupid. Lars was just looking out for me, in a fatherly way.

“Yes. I’m—I’m fine. Go enjoy your night with Mabel.” I hung up before he could speak again.

When I returned the booth was empty, but Rowan’s phone was on the table and was blowing up with texts.

Boden

Kershaw is gonna kill you, man. Messin’ with his sister like that.

Jonno

She looks miserable with you, dawg. You need to treat her right.

Macker

How far you gonna take this, dude?

Take what? Alarm streaked through me. What was going on here?

I looked up and there he was, leaning against the bar, flirting with the server. He spotted me, gave a bright smile, and headed back over.

“Hey, we good?”

“Yeah, great!” It sounded fake. “How about we get another round of drinks in?”

That surprised him. “Uh, yeah. Why not?”