Holiday Hire (The Cartwright Family #2)

Chapter 19

19

Alexander

A ll I want to do is crawl back into bed and hit the reset button. What started off as an amazing day, quickly went from bad to worse. I hurt Phoebe, and she's embarrassed that my brothers know about last night. I wish I could somehow undo the damage I've done, but I don't know how.

The only thing I know how to do is throw myself into my work. So I run the horses hard, especially Calypso.

Mason shouts, "Enough! You're going to risk injuring him."

I assess the situation. He's right. I've already made Calypso run four more rounds than normal.

I sigh and step into the corral. I reach for his harness, snapping the leather lead in place and patting his wet face. I praise, "Good job, buddy."

He nuzzles his face into my chest, out of breath.

I take an apple from my pocket and hold it out to him. He takes it and chomps down on it. I direct him toward the water basin and let him drink for a few minutes before taking him back to the barn.

My phone buzzes as soon as I shut the gate to his stall. I take it out of my pocket and pull up my text messages.

Cheyenne: Met your nanny today.

The hairs on my arms rise. It's a small town, and everyone knows everyone. As far as the boys know, Cheyenne is my former classmate, and that's it.

And she knows how I feel about my kids. She's always respected my boundaries regarding them, so I've never worried when we've happened to run into her in town or at events.

Before I can reply, another text pops up.

Cheyenne: She's cute. A bit artsy for my taste, but she seems perky.

Cheyenne: Her diamond nose stud is a nice touch.

I close my fist, staring at the screen, debating how to respond.

Me: She's been great with the boys.

Cheyenne: Can you get away tonight? I'm down for a bit of playtime.

Me: Sorry, I can't leave the kids. There's too much going on.

Cheyenne: Too much going on with the nanny?

The air in my lungs turns stale. The last thing I need is for Cheyenne to be jealous of Phoebe. She doesn't even know what happened between us. Even if she did, we're strictly friends with benefits, nothing more. She has no dibs on me. And whenever she goes out on dates, I don't interfere. I know our little arrangement can end at any time.

Cheyenne: Didn't think she was your type.

Me: Stop making accusations about things you know nothing about.

Cheyenne: Then come over and punish me for being bad.

A photo of Cheyenne touching her naked pussy comes across the screen.

Normally, it would heat my blood, and I'd figure out a way to go fuck her, even if I only had twenty minutes of free time. Right now, it's annoying me.

Me: I'm busy. Gotta go. Talk later.

Cheyenne: But I need the stallion. And you owe me.

My pulse skyrockets. The only place my stallion wants to be is inside Pheebs.

What's Cheyenne talking about anyway?

Me: Owe you?

Cheyenne: Yep. I fucked you a few weeks ago before I went out for the night. I had to redo my hair and makeup.

Me: I don't have time for this. Talk later.

She tries to call me.

I send her to voicemail.

She texts me crying emojis.

It annoys me further. I slide my phone into my pocket and leave the barn. I'm halfway across the yard when the SUV pulls through the gate.

Ace jumps out of the front seat and runs toward me. "Dad, you're going to love our surprise!"

I ask, "Are you going to tell me what it is now?"

"Nope! You have to go away so we can unload the trunk," he answers.

"I can't peek?"

"No! You'll ruin it!"

I chuckle. "All right. I'll go away in a minute. Did you boys behave?"

"They were perfect. Ace, go help your brother unload everything," Phoebe orders.

He obeys.

I glance at her. "Glad the boys didn't give you any trouble. I can't wait for this surprise to be revealed."

She smiles, but there's a hint of disapproval in her eyes. She adds, "Met your friend, Cheyenne."

"We went to school together."

"Yes, so I hear. She said to tell you she wants to ride your stallion again." Phoebe's smile hardens.

Oh shit.

Fucking Cheyenne.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Phoebe glares at me and spins on her heel. She joins the boys, unloading the SUV.

My gut continues to sink. I take a few deep breaths.

She'll understand once I explain to her my arrangement with Cheyenne.

Besides, Phoebe is still with Mr. Douchebag, for all I know. She doesn't have the right to be pissed at me for something I did before I slept with her.

I walk toward the vehicle, hoping to pull Phoebe aside.

Wilder shouts, "Dad, you can't come here! You'll ruin the surprise."

I freeze, unsure what to do.

Ace orders, "Go away! We want to surprise you!"

Wilder adds, "Don't come inside until it's dark out."

I say to Phoebe, "We need to talk later."

She tilts her head and pins her eyebrows together. "Do we?"

I sternly assert, "Yes, we do."

She chirps, "Sure. Whatever you say, boss. Come on, boys. Let's start our project." She leads them away, and I stomp over to the corral.

Jagger asks, "What's going on there?"

"Nothing."

He tilts his head. "Didn't look like nothing."

"Mind your own business," I fume, and head to the stable. I put a saddle on my riding horse, Trojan. I put my foot in the stirrup and pull myself up. I toss my leg over his back and sit.

I spend the rest of the afternoon riding around the lake. It's the one thing that's always been my saving grace, except for today. I can't shake the hole I've dug myself in.

I tell myself a dozen times I have nothing to apologize for regarding Cheyenne, but it still feels as if I do. And I curse myself for letting myself act so irresponsibly.

Phoebe is my sons' nanny. She's my employee and responsible for the two people I love more than anyone else. My job is to protect them and worry about my own needs last, and I didn't do that last night.

The sunshine fades, and darkness sets in. I should have cooled off but I'm still fuming over too many things, feeling a bit lost, and trying not to go down the rabbit hole I avoid at all costs.

It's the place where I lose all control and wallow in self-pity, and one thing I hate is being a victim. There are only a few times I've allowed myself to go there. Tonight, I'm struggling not to step into the shadows of the "what-ifs," "why me," and "life is unfair" talk.

Part of me wants to stay outside forever, but I know I need to face the music and try to clear the air between Phoebe and me.

I run Trojan hard until I get to the barn. I jump off him, take off his saddle, rub him down, put him in his stall, then head toward the house. The orange lights and the automatic outside lanterns turn on, guiding me to the porch.

When I open the front door, the smell of homemade cookies hits me. Laughter rings in my ears, and I pause, smiling.

Maybe I shouldn't go in there and ruin their fun.

"Dad's going to love this!" Ace exclaims, pulling me out of my debate.

I step into my bedroom, asking, "What do I need to see?" Then I freeze.

The laughter stops. My kids and Phoebe stare at me.

I glance around my bedroom. The walls are a tranquil blue. There's a new, multicolored bedspread on my mattress and a glass vase on the nightstand. Across from my bed, a huge canvas with a turkey and the boys' names painted on it hangs on the wall. A silver hammered-metal horse hangs above my bed. "Stallion" is written under it.

Wilder shouts, "Surprise!"

Ace asks, "Don't you love it, Dad?"

Phoebe takes a deep breath and offers a small smile.

Stunned, I take everything in again, admitting, "It's great."

"We're doing my room next; I drew the longest straw! I chose red paint," Wilder states.

"Then we're painting mine! My walls are going to be green!" Ace chimes in.

I lock eyes with Phoebe. "This is really nice."

"You like it?"

"Yes."

Her smile grows. She softly replies, "Good."

I glance at the metal horse over the bed, then at her. I arch my eyebrows, my heart beating faster.

She bites on her smile, her cheeks turning pink.

For some reason, a chuckle flies out of me. Maybe it's the stress of the day. Perhaps I'm so out of my element in my own house I don't know how to handle anything right now. It might be due to my undeniable attraction for Phoebe, even though I've spent the entire day trying to tell myself I can squash it.

Then again, maybe I just want to feel the happiness I felt twenty-four hours ago before I opened my mouth and ruined everything between us.

Whatever it is, I keep laughing. Phoebe suddenly joins in, and tears fall down my cheeks. I swipe at them but can't stop howling. My sides begin to hurt.

Ace asks, "What are you laughing about?"

I can't answer him. I glance at the horse again, and Phoebe giggles harder. She rubs tears off her cheeks as well.

"I don't get it," Wilder adds.

It takes another few minutes for us to calm. I kneel down and toss my arms around the boys. "Thanks. This is really nice."

Wilder declares, "It was all Phoebe's idea."

Ace offers, "She said we had to do your room first."

"Yeah. She said you deserved it since you work so hard for all of us," Wilder states.

I pin my gaze on her. "Thank you. It's really nice."

"You're welcome."

We don't say anything for a moment.

Ace's stomach growls. He announces, "I'm hungry. What's Aunt Willow cooking?"

Phoebe answers, "It's steak night."

"Yes! My favorite," Wilder exclaims, pumping his arm in the air.

"Why don't you two run to the house? Phoebe and I will meet you there. I need to talk to her for a minute."

"I'll race you," Ace says, running out of the room.

"No head starts allowed!" Wilder claims, following him.

The front door slams, and I step in front of Phoebe. Anxiety creeps back into my chest. I blurt out, "Where did you find the horse?"

Her lips twitch. "The home goods store in town."

I glance at it again, chuckling. "It's nice."

"I thought you'd appreciate it," she says, taking a deep breath. Her smile fades.

A million thoughts race around me. I start, "Look, I..."

She waits.

"I fucked up this morning. I said things the wrong way."

"I'm not looking to be another notch on your belt, Alexander."

I close the space between us and palm her cheek. "I never thought of you like that."

"No?"

"No. Not once."

Tension builds between us.

I swipe my thumb over her lips and add, "I like you—a lot. But I don't know what to make of us. I'm not used to...well, any of this. I just don't want to hurt my sons if... I don't even know if you're still with that dickhead."

Her lips curve, but she stays silent.

My pulse races faster. I push, "Are you with him?"

She slowly shrugs. "I don't know what's going on between us."

My heart sinks. I blurt out, "I don't go for women taken by other men."

Phoebe clears her throat. "What about Cheyenne? Sounds like you have a lot going on with her."

I admit, "It's a friends-with-benefits situation. That's it."

Phoebe cringes. "People really do that?"

I shrug. "I have a lot of responsibilities with the boys and the ranch, but I still have needs. What can I say?"

She pauses, then offers, "Fair enough."

"This is complicated all around, and I don't know what to make of it."

"Well, it doesn't help that I broke the golden rule."

Confused, I ask, "Be nice to others?"

She shakes her head. "No. Don't sleep with your boss."

"I'm not exactly innocent. It goes both ways," I declare.

We're quiet for a long moment.

She puts her hand over my palm that's on her cheek and closes her eyes. Then she opens them and says, "Maybe it's best if we're just friends. We both have things going on we need to deal with, so it's probably best if we don't cross the friend line again."

My stomach churns, but I can't argue with her. I slowly flip my hand over hers and kiss the back of it. "Okay."

She smiles.

"So you don't hate me?" I question.

She sighs. "No."

"Good. It was a pretty crappy day knowing I hurt you," I admit.

"I'll agree I've had better days than today."

I glance around the room. "This really was nice of you to do."

"Thanks. I had a good team to help me," she states.

"Should we go to dinner?" I ask.

"Sure."

I motion for her to go first, and almost put my hand on her back but stop myself.

Friends only.

It might be hard not to want more, but Phoebe's right. Neither of us is in a position to get involved with the other. All it will do is hurt someone, possibly my boys.

We leave the house, not saying anything, and cross the yard to the main house. When we get inside, dinner is ready. My family's in the dining room, ready to eat.

We grab chairs across from each other, and unlike breakfast, we fall back into our usual banter. It feels good, yet I can't help wishing things could be different, even though I know it's not our reality.