Page 18

T he window to Lily’s room goes dark, and I start counting in my head. Thirty minutes.

I’m giving Maggie thirty minutes before I charge through the trees to the back door of the house. Anticipation and dread swirl through my veins. I had to tamp the emotions down and take care of Lily for the evening, but now my mind whirls with the worst-case scenario.

Which is me marching down to the bank and buying this place.

My gut tells me Maggie would hate me if I did that. I don’t need a white knight, Viktor.

Maggie is strong and independent. The last thing she needs is me playing the hero .

But there has to be a way to help her without crushing her pride.

I peer through the trees outside my window, squinting until my eyes lock on their kitchen window. It’s hard to see from this distance, but that’s one of the perks of vampire night vision.

A breath later, a soft glow filters through the sheer curtains.

I’ve given her space and time to process, so now it’s time for her to tell me what the fuck is going on. Snatching my thermos off the kitchen table, I leave the guest house and zip through the trees toward the main house.

One unexpected addition to our routine over the past few weeks is regular chats with Maggie after Lily is in bed. I savor every moment I get to be in her presence, and every bit of information she shares with me only feeds the hunger I have for her.

Like how she studied graphic design in college. Or that her favorite flowers are purple freesias.

Every drop she gives me, I lap up like a thirsty puppy. Starved for attention.

The wooden steps of the deck creak under my feet as I ascend. “Fancy meeting you here, country girl.”

Swaying gently, my eyes are drawn to the porch swing. Maggie’s favorite spot.

“V-Viktor.” Her voice cracks around my name. “I don’t know that I’ll be very good company tonight.”

“I thought you might want to talk about what happened earlier, but I can go…” I hook a thumb over my shoulder.

Maggie shakes her head. “Stay. I thought I wanted to be alone, b-but I changed my mind.” Shifting her weight, she makes room for me next to her. “What concoction do you have tonight?” She tips her head to my thermos as I settle onto the swing beside her.

After that first night, and explaining how I don’t consume real blood, I’ve opted for various beverages featuring one common ingredient: synthetic blood powder.

“This, country girl, is my specialty—blood hot cocoa.” I turn to face her, chest swelling at the flush that my pet name sends spreading from her cheeks down to the neck of her pajama top.

As much as I’ve fought the urge to kiss Maggie during every one of these nightly chats, I’ve resisted, keeping things platonic. Although, with what she’s wearing tonight, I doubt my restraint will last much longer.

It’s one of the last warm, muggy nights of summer, so she’s opted for a wide-strapped, figure-hugging tank top and baggy sweatshorts. And my mouth is watering at the subtle peaks of her nipples through the thin cotton of her top.

But once again, Maggie seems more than oblivious to the effect she has on me.

Do not get hard, Viktor. I’m still in my dress slacks, so any movement in my pants would be more than noticeable.

Changing into a t-shirt was a must after the paint dried into my silk dress shirt.

I doubt I’ll be able to get the stain out, but it was worth it to see the pure joy on Lily’s face while we added our handprints to the sign.

“I see you got rid of the paint stains.” Her laughter calms the beast inside me. The one clawing at my skin, screaming for me to sink my fangs into her beautiful skin and feast. “What was it from anyway? ”

“Let me show you.” Placing my thermos on the deck boards, I fetch the wooden sign from where it’s been drying since this afternoon. “Lily and I worked on this today. What do you think?”

Maggie’s hand flies to her mouth, covering a gasp. “Viktor. It’s perfect.” Her voice is soft, wobbling with emotion.

Lit by streaming beams of moonlight, moisture wells in her green eyes.

“Actually—” Setting the sign down, I jet around to the garage. Thankfully, the side door is unlocked. I grab what I need and sprint back to the deck.

Maggie traces over the letters with a single finger, then lays her hand over Lily’s rainbow handprint. A smile plays on her lips, making my heart sing.

“It is missing one thing.” Holding up the paintbrush, I tip my chin toward the sign.

When I extend my free hand to her, she places her small hand in mine, palm up. Zero hesitation in her actions.

A few moments later, her giggles fill the night sky when I drag the paintbrush across her palm. “You’re just like your daughter.” I chuckle, remembering how Lily had the same reaction when I coated her skin with the cold paint.

“What did you expect? It tickles!” Maggie’s top teeth sink into her bottom lip, stifling my favorite sound.

Second favorite . Although, I haven’t heard what she sounds like when she orgasms… yet.

“ Now it’s perfect,” I proclaim, pressing her hand against the wood. Together, we pull our hands away to reveal a perfect rainbow handprint on the other side of mine. Lily’s tiny hand nestled between ours .

There’s a reason Maggie is my last nanny assignment. This is where I’m meant to be forever. Father be damned, I’m never leaving this woman, especially not if she lets me into her heart.

She already holds half of mine. The other half belongs to her daughter.

I’m so fucked.

Clearing her throat, Maggie pulls her hand away. She wipes it on the cloth I brought from the garage, then takes a seat on the swing again.

I place the sign on the table to dry before joining her. “Now no one will miss the orchard when they drive by.”

Her hand lands on my thigh, squeezing gently before pulling away. “Thank you, Viktor. You created something I’ll cherish forever.”

And me? Hopefully, you’ll cherish me forever. I hold the words inside until my fangs sink into my tongue, and the warm, coppery tang of blood fills my mouth.

Maggie flashes me a tight smile before her eyes fall to her lap. She twists her hands together, gripping until her knuckles are white. Silence stretches between us, unbearable and awkward.

Finally, I can’t take it any longer. The need to speak vibrates through my body, and I blurt out the question. “Are we going to address the elephant in the room, sweetheart?”

A whooshed sigh gusts from Maggie’s lips, her eyes still locked on where her hands fidget in her lap. “You mean what happened earlier? With Fletcher.”

I nod. “That slimy asshole said you owe the bank money. Are you in trouble, sweetheart? Did Roman leave you in debt? ”

The instant the question is out of my mouth, regret swarms me like a nest of angry hornets.

Tears shimmer in Maggie’s breathtaking eyes when she finally tilts her head up to meet my gaze.

“I-It’s my fault,” she croaks, voice breaking right along with my heart.

“I find that hard to believe, Maggie. You spend every second working when you’re not taking care of Lily.”

She shakes her head, and a few strands of frizzy golden hair slip from her messy bun.

“After Roman died, I-I could barely function. This dark pit of grief and depression swallowed me whole. I was so lost. I wished I’d died right along with him.

” A hiccupped sob racks her chest. “What kind of horrible mother does that make me? I couldn’t even take care of myself, let alone Lily and the orchard. I let everything fall apart around me.”

My arm shoots out, wrapping around her shoulder and bringing her warm body to mine. “Sweetheart, none of this is your fault. You went through something no one should have to experience, and you made it out the other side.”

Sniffling, her nose brushes against my neck and sends a wave of tingles down my spine.

Maggie’s lips graze the sensitive skin when she speaks, her breath heating my flesh. “My mom and Cyrus stepped up to help with Lily. Jean-Luc kept the trees alive, but I didn’t have the heart to open the orchard for harvest. It felt wrong without Roman. And after the drought last year—”

I hold her tighter to me, hoping my presence takes away some of her pain. Right now, her grief and anguish are tangible, and it’s tearing me up inside .

“I’m broke, Viktor,” she whispers. “This harvest has to be the best we’ve ever had, or I’m fucked. A-And I can’t lose this place. It’s the last memories I have of him.”

For some reason, I feel responsible for Maggie and Lily. I can’t let her lose this place either. Selfishly, I’ve grown to love the clean air and the clear, starry nights as much as I’ve grown to love her and her daughter. “Let me help.”

Maggie sits back, eyebrows furrowed. Before I can stop myself, I smooth a thumb between them and cup the side of her face. For a moment, she leans into my palm, her eyelids fluttering shut.

“I still have access to my trust fund. Let me pay the debt for you. Let me take that burden for you.” My voice is pleading, but I don’t give a fuck. All I care about is making sure Maggie and Lily are safe.

When Maggie shakes her head, my stomach twists, sinking to the darkness of a bottomless sea.

“I’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving, Viktor.” She pulls from my embrace and, begrudgingly, I let my arms fall away from the warmth of her body. Warmth I crave every waking minute of every day.

“Trust me.” I smirk. “I know that.”

Tears dried, her lips creep into a small smile. “I appreciate your offer, but I have a plan and, as long as everything goes accordingly, we’ll be okay.”

I don’t like it, but I’ve learned during my time in the Wilcox house that Maggie is prideful and stubborn.

No amount of bargaining or pleading is going to change her mind.

Maybe there’s a way I can help to make sure this harvest is as successful as she hopes.

“You’ll let me know if your plan doesn’t go accordingly? ”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She holds her pinky up between us.

Chuckling, I link my pinky with hers and shake.

The jerking motion causes her to lean forward until our mouths hover a hairsbreadth apart.

“You know.” As my voice drops to a gravelly octave, Maggie’s lips part on a gasp.

The pitiful sound shoots straight to my cock.

My eyes flick to her mouth before returning to her eyes. “Lily and I have a surprise for you.”

I expect the mention of her daughter to cause her to pull back, but Maggie is full of surprises. Her green gaze flashes with heat and falls to my mouth. “Oh?”

Screaming with the need to kiss her, I fight the bloodthirsty creature inside me. The one who only thinks about how sweet her blood would taste while I bury my cock deep inside her tight cunt.

She just bared her soul to me for the second time in the short period we’ve known each other. Her emotions are probably high from dealing with that slimebag this afternoon.

Thinking with my head, instead of my dick, I lean back and put some much-needed distance between us. It’s getting harder and harder to resist the siren’s call of her lips, yet I keep putting myself in these precarious positions.

I clear my throat, hoping to lighten the earlier growling timbre. “Yes. You’ve been under a lot of pressure lately with the upcoming harvest—and now the stress of the bank on your back. Lily and I came up with the perfect little break. ”

Disappointment flashes across her features, but she recovers into a tight smile. “Color me curious.”

“My twin sister owns a luxury spa in the city. How would you feel about spending a day there? My treat, of course.”

She fiddles with the hem of her shorts. “I don’t know. There’s still so much to do—”

My hand falls over hers, effectively stopping her fidgeting. “It’s one day. And you deserve a break, country girl. Invite Antoinette… and anyone else.”

“But Lily—”

I huff a laugh. “Will be fine here… with me. You won’t let me pay your debt—” She opens her mouth to say something, but I hold a hand up to silence her. “Which I understand. So let me do this for you. Let me give you a day to recharge before the madness of harvest.”

“You’re relentless. You know that?”

I preen under her backhanded compliment, puffing out my chest. “You’re not the only stubborn one around here.”

She laughs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. I’ll see if Annie and Pen are free this weekend.” Then she yawns, and I know it’s time for our night to end.

“Good. I’ll set everything up with Ness. Don’t worry about anything,” I say, standing from the swing. If I don’t get out of here now, the last threads of my restraint will surely snap. “Goodnight, country girl.”

“Goodnight, city boy.”

The wheels in my brain turn as I zip down the path to the guest house.

Barreling through the front door, I scramble to find my laptop before dropping into the chair closest to the fireplace.

Maggie won’t let me play the hero—rightfully so—but I have an idea of how I can ensure her harvest is the most profitable to date.

Pulling up an internet browser and a blank document, my fingers fly across the keys. Plotting and planning. I won’t stand by and let Maggie lose the orchard.