Skye: an enemies-to-lovers, marriage of convenience, and fake relationship stand alone romance (Signature Sweethearts) Read online

  “Aww, what a stud. I want one.”

  She grins. “He’s pretty awesome.”

  “Does he have a brother? I mean, I know I’ve asked before, but….”

  “Only child. Sorry, Skye. You’re going to have to get your own stud to change your oil, deliver amazing orgasms, and take care of your kitties.”

  With a snort, I offer, “I mean, in a way, you could consider the last two the same thing. Am I right?”

  “You have multiple kitties?” she returns with a knowing smirk.

  “Sway!” I shove her shoulder before taking a seat on the red and black plaid blanket she’d laid down a few minutes ago.

  Squatting low, she plops onto her butt next to me.

  I rest my elbows on my bent knees then take in the small valley around me. My parents bought the land before I was born. It’s home, and I love all the memories that accompany it. Checking on Brody, I watch as he tosses his little six-year-old leg over the four-wheeler seat of a canary yellow baby 60cc machine named Hercules. My parents bought it after Brody insisted he was too big to ride as the passenger. The little butthead. He wants to be so grown up, and it’s only gotten worse since his stupid older brother showed up.

  “You’ve been coming here a lot over the past couple of weeks,” Sway notes as she watches my little guy start the four-wheeler.

  Shrugging, I keep my eyes on Brody to prevent my older sister from reading me like a book.

  “It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain older brother, would it?” she pushes, her long, pink hair fluttering in the warm, gentle breeze.

  “We’ve been needing to get out of the house. That’s all.”

  “Sure, it is.”

  With an annoyed huff, I turn to her. “I found him in the hot tub with another random girl. This time, she was topless, and it was clear they were about to get to the good part. Can you believe that? What if Brody had seen? I mean, how irresponsible can the idiot be?”

  Jaw on the ground and eyes popping open, Sway leans forward as if we’re sharing secrets in grade school. “Seriously? Topless? Wooow,” she drags out the word before offering, “At least it was only one girl this time, though, right?”

  I shudder. “Don’t remind me. Although to be fair, I’m not one hundred percent positive I’d walked in on a threesome. They were all fully clothed so….”

  “So, you’re not honestly that naive,” she finishes for me.

  “Fine. Though I don’t have any evidence, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s that…experienced. Gah! He’s so damn frustrating!”

  Flustered, I drag my fingers through the roots of my hair before positioning it into a high ponytail as I check on Brody. His matching yellow helmet makes him look like an adorable bobblehead as he putters up a small dirt hill.

  “Speaking of men…guess what I heard?” Sway has the decency to change the subject when she knows how close I am to having a mental breakdown at the thought of Liam and his many sexcapades.

  “What’d you hear?” I ask curiously.

  “Saylor’s boy is back in town.”

  Now it’s my turn for my eyes to pop. “Saylor’s boy, as in––”

  “Yup. Talk about a blast from the past, right?”

  “What the hell is he doing here? He left, remember?” My protective younger sister attribute starts to rear its ugly head as memories of my older sister in high school fight their way to the surface. Tears. Heartbreak. Doors slamming. And ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.

  “Oh, I remember. Anthony and I saw him at the hardware store when we were picking up some crap for the cattery.”

  Sway and Anthony own a cat sanctuary for stray animals who have overstayed their welcome at the local shelter. She’s a saint, and he’s her sidekick in her selfless endeavors.

  In a nutshell, they’re a match made in heaven, and I get insanely jealous anytime I inspect their relationship too closely. Shaking it off, I focus on the matter at hand.

  “Did you say anything to him? Maybe grab the closest hammer and knock him upside the head with it?” I probe. Though my voice is teasing, I’m only half joking. That asshole did a big number on Saylor. She’s never really been the same. She hasn’t even bothered to date even though it’s been years since he left.

  With her mouth quirked up in amusement, she murmurs, “I thought about it. Until I saw the little boy holding his hand.”

  “No freaking way!” I lean forward. This story keeps getting juicier and juicier. “He’s got a kid?”

  “Yup.”

  “Does Say know?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I don’t know how to tell her.”

  The sound of footsteps causes both of our heads to turn toward the house behind us, interrupting our conversation. My heart is racing as though I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar until I see Sway’s other half swaggering toward us in a pair of worn jeans and a tight black T-shirt that hugs his chest.

  I’ve been gifted with a view of those muscles before, and I can testify of their glory. The man is gorgeous.

  “Don’t know how to tell her what? And who’s her?” Anthony asks as he squats low behind Sway. Once his butt is on the ground, he frames her with his legs then pulls her into him so that her back is resting against his chest. That delicious, muscled chest.

  Sigh.

  “I was talking about the guy we saw in the hardware store,” Sway explains.

  Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he says, “Oh. The blonde guy with the kid who looks eerily similar to a college football player that was supposed to hit it big before his kneecap basically exploded on live television?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “What did you say his name was?”

  I answer for Sway. “Owen Daniels. AKA The Big O, as we liked to call him before he broke Saylor’s heart.”

  Turning toward me with his arms still firmly wrapped around Sway’s chest, he confirms, “So it really is him? The infamous Owen Daniels that was being recruited by multiple NFL teams before his leg was injured to the point that he had to kiss his football career goodbye?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I didn’t know Saylor dated him…. Was it an ugly break up?”

  I grit my teeth before spitting, “The worst.”

  “Maybe he was just passing through,” Sway offers, hopefully.

  Anthony shakes his head back and forth. “He was getting copies of a house key as well as some tomato plants. Those aren’t the purchases of a man who isn’t sticking around.”

  The imagery is enough to douse any hopes we’d been harboring that Mr. Owen Daniels would disappear before Saylor ever finds out he showed his face again.

  “Well, shit,” I curse.

  “Pretty much.”

  Chapter Four

  Skye

  “Brody.” I unclip the belt buckle around his comatose form in my back seat. “Wake up, Brody.” Shaking him gently, I try to rouse the kid from sleep, but he’s out cold.

  We spent the entire evening at my parents’ house riding the four-wheelers and having an absolute blast before grabbing a quick bite to eat and driving home. He fell asleep before I’d even backed out of my parents’ driveway.

  Staring down at the exhausted little dude, I throw in the towel and pick him up. With his arms around my neck and his legs on either side of my hips, I click the lock button on my key fob then head inside.

  The same red BMW is parked out front, but I ignore the swarm of butterflies that assault my stomach and open the front door. My thighs burn as I carry Brody up the stairs to his room. I keep the light off, pulling down the navy blue sheets before laying Brody down in his bed. After I slip off his shoes, I bring the cotton material up to his chin and tuck him in like a little human burrito before placing a quick peck on his forehead. He sighs, then rolls onto his side and curls into the fetal position.

  Cute little monster.

  Satisfied he’ll be out for the night, I leave his door open a cr
ack then head to my own room across the hall when the sound of giggles catches my attention. Head swiveling to my right, I groan. Pressed against the wall is another faceless bimbo with her head tilted to the side as Liam sucks on the sensitive column of her throat. His hands are on her hips as he keeps her back pinned in place. I debate for about two seconds on whether or not I should ignore the fiasco when she lets out another fit of giggles. Only this time, it’s louder.

  Stomping toward them, I whisper-shout, “Will you please shut up? You’re going to wake up your little brother, and he really doesn’t need front row seats to”––I wave my hand at them––“this.”

  Liam’s muscled frame turns to stone for a long second before he slowly untucks his head from the girl’s neck. With a glare, he gives me his full attention.

  “There a problem, Nanny?” he growls.

  I swear, it’s like I’m talking to an idiot.

  “I just told you what the problem was,” I huff before praying for patience. “Your little brother is sleeping down the hall. Could you please take this somewhere else? And maybe gag the skank before you get to the good part? She looks like a screamer.”

  The sarcastic and totally inappropriate comment seems to bring a ghost of a smile to Liam’s lips before he taints it with his words. “We’ve already gotten to the good part. And yes, she was a definite screamer. Though, I happen to like screamers.” Dropping his hands to his sides, he takes a predatory step toward me. “Tell me, Nanny. Are you a screamer?” His eyes heat at the prospect, nearly burning me whole as I watch his mind go to wickedly inappropriate places. Hell, I can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he imagines all the ways he could make me scream. My entire body hums as his eyes lazily scan me from head to toe. I cross my arms defensively because he’s only going there in an attempt to make me uncomfortable. I refuse to let him see that it’s working.

  “You’ll never know what I am, though I will tell you that it’s probably for the best. If you ever got a taste of someone with class, I don’t think you’d ever be able to go back to the trash you’re used to bathing in.” The girl beside him gasps in shock, but I ignore her. “If you’ve already finished, then I suggest you escort your little floozy home. I need some sleep, and since you don’t use them for anything other than their bodies, I’m going to assume she’s fulfilled her purpose for the evening too.” With a syrupy sweet smile directed to said floozy, I say, “Have a good night. Might wanna get tested tomorrow. Wouldn’t wanna catch anything.”

  Then I turn on my heel in hopes of escaping the awkward encounter. Unfortunately for me, Liam’s hand wraps around my bicep, preventing my retreat.

  “Stacy,” he barks, though his eyes stay on me.

  “Yes?” the floozy squeaks behind him.

  “You’re going to have to drive yourself home. My keys are in my front left pocket. I’ll call you tomorrow.” The steeliness in his voice brooks no argument, though I don’t miss the way she listens to his orders without hesitation, either. I doubt she’s someone who thinks for herself. She probably loves his bossy side. I bristle at the prospect.

  Does she have any self-respect?

  She leans around him, and I don’t miss the way her gigantic boobs brush across his tricep. My eyes drop to her perfectly polished manicure as it slips into the front pocket of his jeans before pulling out a set of two keys. One is obviously for the car, and I assume the second is for the house.

  Hands grazing his stubbled cheek, she pushes onto her tiptoes then brushes her ruby red lips against his jaw in a slow, sensual kiss. When she pulls away, I notice a soft smear of lipstick as if she’s marking her territory.

  Part of me wants to point out that her little show of dominance is a waste of energy because I don’t want the guy, anyway. She can have him. But another part of me wants to bare my teeth and tug him closer to me like a mama bear. Not because I like Liam, but because he isn’t a piece of meat. You can’t stake a claim on him. He’ll do whatever he damn well chooses. He doesn’t give a shit about what anyone else wants. He never has. And he never will. However, as my eyes zero in on his marked skin, I see that damn dimple appear for a split second before he dismisses Stacy with a quick chin lift toward the staircase that leads to the front door.

  “Goodbye, Stacy. I’ll call you tomorrow about returning my car.”

  “You owe me, Liam,” she returns as her heels click against the hardwood floors. The sound stalls before she adds, “Though I’m sure I can think of a way you can repay me later. Ciao.”

  The click-clacking of her shoes continues to echo throughout the otherwise silent house before the front door closes with a reverberating thud.

  That’s when I find myself very much alone and in the grasp of a very pissed off Liam.

  With a thick swallow, I steel my courage and peek up at him. “There a problem, Liam?”

  His jaw flexes. “Yeah. I’m done tiptoeing around you.”

  Scoffing, I can’t help the dry laugh that bubbles out of me. “You’re joking, right? Tiptoeing around me? Seriously, are you smoking something?”

  “You need to keep your cute little nose out of my shit. I leave you alone. I feel like I should deserve the same treatment.”

  Wrenching my arm out of his grasp, I rise onto my tiptoes and get up in his face. I don’t care if he’s huge compared to my five-foot four-inch frame. I will not be intimidated. “Do you think I was trying to get into your shit? You’re practically dry-humping in the hallway! Ever heard of a closed door, Liam? You should try it sometime.”

  “We were leaving, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

  With a snort at the ludicrous assumption, I shake my head. “You might be good looking, Liam, but I can smell the floozy’s desperation still clinging to your skin. You like easy. And I’m not that.”

  “For once, we can both agree on something. You’re definitely not easy. But you’re also not hard, either. You’re a damn ice cube, that’s what you are. No wonder you don’t have a guy.”

  “Who says I don’t have a guy?” I nearly shout, my anger and disbelief pulsing through my veins.

  “Because if you did, you’d be a hell of a lot less interested in my love life, and your eyes wouldn’t linger like they do. You’re curious. You’re just too much of a coward to admit it.”

  “I am not a coward.”

  He towers over me, his shoulders rolling forward to help make up a bit of the distance between our heights. I don’t miss how close our mouths are.

  “Then admit it,” he grits out. “You want to know what I look like naked. That’s why your panties are in a twist anytime I bring a girl home.”

  Glaring, I fight a silent battle with myself as I fumble for my next rebuttal. I have two choices here. I can keep arguing, or I can retreat. Neither will do a damn thing because this guy is so self-centered that he doesn’t even hear the words that are being spoken. It’s like I’m talking to a freaking wall. And that’s when I realize that’s exactly what’s happening. Our chests are heaving for another three-Mississippis when I finally take a deliberate step backward.

  “I’d love to know what you look like naked. Not because I’m interested in you, but because I honestly want to see if you’re as shallow as you seem. That being said, I’m not holding my breath because you refuse to show anyone that.”

  He opens his mouth to argue when I stop him. “You’ll take your clothes off for anyone who asks. I didn’t mean physically. I meant I’d love to see you stripped bare so I could see the real you. If there is a real you. Or maybe you are just the spoiled brat you like to display for the world.”

  Gaze narrowing, he drops his voice low, and I know I’ve hit a sore spot as he murmurs, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You prance around the world, spending Daddy’s money and sleeping with anyone who spreads their legs. Yet you come here, and you expect to be taken seriously. Why are you home, anyway? Hasn’t Daddy already filled your bank account?”

&
nbsp; “Daddy won’t fill my bank account until I find a wife, though that’s none of your business. And you should probably stop assuming shit. Ever heard the saying, ‘Assuming will only make an ass out of you and me?’ And we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”

  My brows raise in absolute shock. “So, you’re saying I’m wrong?”

  He pauses for a split second, but I don’t miss it before he seethes, “Yeah. I am.”

  “Then what are you doing on all your escapades?” I push, curiosity eating me alive. He’s right. I’ve always assumed he’s been traipsing across the continents, one sordid country at a time.

  He hesitates to answer me, and I don’t miss the way his eyes narrow for a brief second or the slight tick in his jaw as he considers telling me…something.

  Licking his lips, he reveals a little tidbit that I’m pretty dang positive he’s never admitted to another soul. “Ever heard of the Peace Corps?”

  “Yes?” I reply, confused.

  “Do you know what they do?”

  “Umm…yes? They do service, right?”

  “Yeah.” Running his fingers through his hair, he drops his head back toward the ceiling before expanding. “They build schools, teach English to children, help with water filtration, assist with medical shit. You get the picture.”

  “S-so, you’re part of the Peace Corps?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice.

  “Like I said. Don’t assume. You don’t know me.”

  “Then why let people assume? Your dad said––”

  “My dad is an ass,” he interrupts, that same tick in his jaw making an appearance.

  “Well….” I cross my arms, unsure what to do with myself when this conversation is totally not going where I expected it to go. “Where the hell are you going to find a wife when you sleep with anything that walks?”