I summon up my best smile, and it must work because the tension in his body disappears. “All right, then. No party.”
“Callum’s the best, isn’t he?” Brooke reaches up to toy with the top button of his shirt. Her actions are possessive, almost as if she’s trying to defend her territory. I want to tell her I’m not a threat, but I don’t know if she’d believe me. “We’re his soiled doves. Hopefully once we’re cleaned up, he doesn’t send us away.”
“No one’s sending Ella away. She’s a Royal,” Callum declares.
My gaze shifts to Brooke, and by the tight expression on her face, she doesn’t miss that her name wasn’t included in his pronouncement.
“Really? I thought she was Steve’s daughter. Is there something you’re not telling us?” Brooke trills.
He rears back as if she hit him. “What? No. Of course she’s Steve’s. But he’s”—Callum swallows hard—“he’s gone, and so Ella is part of my family now just as the boys would have been Steve’s if anything had happened to me.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean anything other than you’re generous.” Her voice drops to a purr. “So very generous.”
With each word, she moves closer and closer to Callum until she’s virtually on his lap. He switches his fork to his left hand and drapes an arm around the back of Brooke’s chair. His eyes plead with me to understand. I’m using her just as she’s using me.
I get it, I really do. This is a man who lost his wife and best friend in a short span of time. I know what loss feels like, and if Brooke fills up those empty spaces for Callum, then good for him.
But I don’t need to watch them in action.
“I’m going inside to get a—” I don’t even bother finishing because Brooke has climbed on top of Callum. I watch wide-eyed as she straddles him, pulling on his ears like he’s a hobby horse.
“Not here, Brooke.” His eyes flicker toward me.
I start walking—quickly—toward the kitchen. Behind me, I hear her reassure Callum.
“She’s seventeen, darling. She probably knows more about sex than the two of us put together. And if she doesn’t, your boys will expose her innocent eyes soon enough.”
That makes me cringe, but whatever spell Brooke has cooked up is doing its thing because I hear Callum groan.
“Wait. Wait. Brooke.”
She giggles breathily and then Callum’s chair starts squeaking. Damn, this is a big patio.
Easton is coming out of the kitchen as I make my escape inside. He peers past me, totally unfazed by what’s happening on the patio.
“Welcome to the Royal Palace,” he says. An impish grin spreads across his face and he yells, “Don’t forget to wrap it before you tap it. We don’t need more money-grubbing illegitimate kids in this family.”
My smile dies off immediately. “Did someone teach you how to be a jerk or does it come naturally?”
Easton hesitates for a moment, but then, as if Reed is sitting on his shoulder, he drops his hand to his crotch. “Why don’t you come upstairs and I’ll show you just how good I am in my natural state?”
“Pass.” I walk by as calmly as possible, and I don’t start running until I hit the stairs.
Once I’m in the privacy of my bedroom, I list all the reasons why I shouldn’t leave immediately. I remind myself that I’m not hungry. I have ten grand in my backpack. I’m not stripping for greedy men with dollar bills clutched in their sweaty hands. I can handle two years of sexual come-ons and personal putdowns from the Royal boys.
But for the rest of the night I stay in my room, where I spend the time looking for part-time jobs using the shiny new MacBook that magically appeared on my desk. There’s no public transport outside the house, but I passed a bus stop last night that wasn’t too far away. Maybe a quarter of a mile.
The next day, I make the walk, and according to my watch it takes ten minutes at a brisk pace, which is more like a half mile. The Sunday bus schedule is snoozy—only one every hour and it stops at six. Whatever job I get would need to be over early on Sundays.
On my way home, Gideon drives by in a shiny SUV. His hair is sticking up and he’s got red marks on his neck. If it were anyone else, I’d say he just had sex, but he looks too angry for that. Maybe he fought with a raccoon.
“What are you doing?” he barks.
“Walking.”
“Get in.” He stops and shoves open the door. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“Seems like a nice place.” The houses are big. The lawns are bigger. Besides, his brothers had no problem ditching me on this road the other night. “The most danger I’ve encountered this morning is a big bad man trying to lure me into his truck. Good thing I know better.”
A reluctant smile lurks on the corner of his mouth. “I don’t have any candy or ice cream, so by default I should be considered safe.”
“Nah, just a shitty kidnapper.”
“You coming or are we going to block the Sunday traffic all day?”
I glance behind him and see another car coming. Why the hell not? It’s a short trip to the house.