Page 208 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
It was as if the universe had known exactly what she needed.
Sure, she could have tucked herself away in a hotel. She wasn’t penniless anymore. Thanks to the generous nanny salary, her healthy checking account could have covered the cost to stay at any of Denver’s glitziest of boutique hotels, but the empty apartment inside an equally empty building offered ensured solitude.
“I know you want to be alone. I get it. But I wish you would have agreed to stay with one of us, Libbs,” Char said. “I still can’t get over what happened with Erasmus. But don’t count him out yet, honey. You never know with these guys.”
Char meant well, but Raz had made his choice, and her heart couldn’t endure another broken promise. She’d structured her life precisely so she wouldn’t have to feel that ache.
But nothing seemed simple or cut and dry anymore.
Could Raz surprise her and come to terms with the fact that he was going down a dangerous path? She understood that he harbored guilt and even blamed himself for Meredith’s death. But how much winning would be enough for him to make up for his self-assigned sins? Could he change, or was he like her dad, chasing some pipe dream that everything would magically be okay after that next elusive victory?
She ignored the heaviness in her chest. “The apartment is exactly what I need. But don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful you guys offered to let me stay with you, but I needed some time alone, and I had to stay hidden away. Raz and I agreed not to say anything to Sebastian yet. He thinks I’m training with his dad, and I didn’t want Phoebe or Oscar to mention something to him if they noticed me at one of your places. And H…”
“No need to explain, Libbs,” Harper said, waving her off. “If I had the choice of squatting in the luxurious Gale Gaming bachelor pad or livingla vida geriatricwith my grandma Presley, I’d opt for the bach pad any old day.”
Libby playfully bumped H’s shoulder, shaking her head as a genuine smile graced her lips.
Leave it to Harper to lighten the mood.
But her burst of happiness was short-lived.
The mention of her temporary lodgings only reminded her of what led her there.
After she and Raz had spoken in the rain outside the barn, and her heart had disintegrated in her chest, the man looked like the world had chewed him up and spit him out. But he still left with Augie. She’d watched him go, staring at the taillights as they disappeared down the drive. Feeling like she’d been run over by a Mack truck, she’d gone back into the barn and spoke to Sebastian, telling him she also had to leave to help his father. Despite it being a lie, the idea that Sebastian believed she and Raz were training together provided a sliver of comfort.
Or was she simply ignoring the inevitable—that it was over? And that Raz, like her father, couldn’t see what was right in front of him.
She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Her mind felt like a psychic bowl of metaphysical mush.
The last few days had passed in a blur, or perhaps a daze of disorientation was a better descriptor, and her poor chi had been put through the emotional energy grinder.
It seemed unreal to believe that Raz had whisked her away to Moloka’i only a week ago. They’d made love and professed their feelings, sweaty limbs tangled together as they embraced beside the ocean. With salt in the air and the rope swing swaying, she’d opened her heart and given herself to the man she loved.
Yes, loved.
She still loved her beefcake.
Lying in his arms, listening to the water, she’d pictured their forever life.
A life with Sebastian and their friends.
A life where Anders and Alec would visit, and they’d dwell in a cocoon of Pun-chi yoga bliss with donkeys grazing in the yard. On the sandy beach with the ocean stretched before them, everything had made sense. A beautiful symmetry had taken hold.
Little did she know that the balance had hinged on an unsteady precipice. It teetered on a rocky foundation like what she’d experienced after her mother passed, and her father’s broken promises had stacked up, one on top of the other.
Her happily ever after with Raz was contingent on him beating the Irish Snake.
His rules, not hers.
And there was no guarantee that if he won, he’d finally find peace.
That wasn’t love. It was torture.
“Have you spoken to Raz?” Harper asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
Libby stared ahead, her vision going blurry. “No, he made it clear that his priority was to win and that he didn’t want me to get in the way of his training.”
Did it hurt to hear him say that?
