Page 93 of Imperfect Arrangement
“Not used to what, Firefly?” His tone becomes gentle, coaxing. Raymond turns me to face him, his hand tilting my chin up so I can’t avoid his gaze.
I draw in a deep breath, as if that alone could steady my pounding heart. “I’m not used to people…picking up the slack for me.” My voice cracks slightly. “After Gramps passed, Mom and Nana were deep in grief. I understood that, I really did,” I add quickly. “He was everyone’s rock. But someone had to step up. Whispering Willow was his legacy, and I couldn’t let it fall apart.”
My words rush out now, an avalanche of long-held feelings. “So, one day at a time, I learned everything—every single thing—about running that business. I got to know the staff, made them feel like family. And now, for the first time, I’m not physically there.” I don’t tell him that I still get hourly updates to keep my sanity intact.
“What about your dad?” Raymond’s question strikes a chord I rarely touch.
My fists clench reflexively at my sides. He notices, of course. His hands gently cover mine, prying my fingers open and threading his own through them, anchoring me.
“Tell me,” he urges softly.
I exhale shakily. “When I was five, Nana and Gramps brought Mom and me to live with them. She’d been enduring…things…in silence until it got too bad to hide. They saved her.” My words are raw, dredged from a place I rarely visit.
His grip on my hands tightens, the pressure a silent offering of solidarity. I’m grateful for his silence, for him not telling me to move on or that we were lucky, because it could have been worse.
“Do you know where he is now?” Raymond’s voice drops an octave, each word carrying a lethal weight.
I press back against his fingers, grounding him as much as myself. “He died a few years ago. Mom got a call—someone thought I’d like to pay my respects. And no, I didn’t go,” I add quickly, before he can ask. “If I’d gone insane that day and decided to visit, Nana would’ve chained me to a chair before letting that happen.”
His lips twitch, and the tension in my chest begins to ease. “I like your nana.”
“Really?” I arch a brow, remembering how she wasn’t exactlylikeableduring their one meeting. I wouldn’t mind if he found her eccentric or a bit too much.
He chuckles. “She reminds me of my gigi, my mom’s mom. Gigi was a firecracker—no filter, no patience, but all heart. It was just me, Gigi, and Mom for the first few years of my life. Some of my best memories are with her.”
I bite my lip, debating whether to ask the question gnawing at the edge of my mind. “Can I ask you something?” I run my tongue over my dry, nervous lips and Raymond’s gaze follows.
“You already know you can.” His hands still hold mine.
“It’s…personal.” My voice is hesitant.
His mouth quirks into a half smile. “That’s the direction we seem to be heading these days.”
I huff a small laugh despite the nerves. “I’m curious…do you know anything about your birth father?” I blurt the words out before I can second-guess them.
His smile vanishes, and his hands tighten on mine. I’m ready to backtrack, to tell him to forget I asked, when Raymond clears his throat. “I asked my dad once, when I was a kid. He told me I was his son in every way that mattered, and that was the only answer I needed. Then he made me promise I’d never go looking for anything more.”
“And you…listened?” My brows lift in disbelief.
Raymond nods without hesitation. “I’d do anything for that man, Willow. Giving up something I didn’t need in the first place was a small price to pay. I know he was protecting me from something, and whatever it was, it doesn’t matter. I’d never seen or heard about a man in my mom’s life until Dad literally bulldozed his way into our lives and made us a family. I don’t just respect him. I love him. I’m not embarrassed to confess that I wouldn’t be who I am without him.”
I let go of his hands and wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. “How are you like this?” I murmur, my words muffled against him.
His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. “I hope you mean that in a good way.”
I pull back enough to look up at him. “I mean, you’re so full of emotions and affection sometimes. But then out there”—I throw my head to the side lightly, gesturing to the area outside the Teager house bubble—“putting your name and the word ‘love’ in the same sentence feels like a criminal offense.”
Raymond fakes a lousy attempt to gasp, his eyes twinkling. “Wow. I didn’t realize I was that bad at being a businessman.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you need me to send a mirror to your office?”
He laughs, the sound warm and rich, before his features settle down and he looks at me with a hint of a smile. “In business, you show weakness and people will eat you alive. So I decided a long time ago that I’d never take anything for granted. Whatever I do, I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”
He doesn’t say it outright, but I get it.
Whatever’s between us, even if it’s temporary, even if it’s fake, Raymond Teager will be giving his everything. And I realize that might be the most dangerous thing about him.
“Do your parents know aboutthis?” I motion to the space—or lack thereof—between us.
