He chuckles. “Fair enough. Call me if you need anything—and I mean anything, Ruby. I’ll come running.”
“I know you will.” I wrap him in a hug, giving him an extra-long squeeze.
With a backward wave in the rearview, I pull away from the ranch and head toward my new home—the one with a six foot five tattooed firefighter waiting for me.
The last time I left the ranch like this, I was running away from everything I’d known to chase a dream I never thought I’d catch. Now, it’s like I’m running toward something else. A new beginning, a reset. I don’t know what’s at the end of the race, but I have to see it through.
I’ve been standing on the border with one piece of my heart in Nashville and the other in Oak Ridge, but I want every piece and part of me to exist here long enough to figure out what I should do next.
My nerves start to get the better of me when I approach the edge of town, where Liam’s gorgeous two-story craftsman home and its inhabitants await my arrival. I’m not qualified to be a nanny. I don’t know what it’s like to live with a man, let alone a hot single dad with an adorable nine-year-old son. What possessed me to offer myself up like that?
Stupid question, Ruby. You know exactly what possessed you—your hormones can’t be trusted when LiamfuckingMurphy is standing in front of you.
In my defense, I’m pretty sure I was ovulating.
I could’ve just gone home to my vibrator, instead I have it tucked away in my suitcase because I’m moving in with the man who stars in all of my fucking fantasies.
The sound of laughter drifts through my open window when I pull up beside Liam’s truck. I peek around the side of the house, spotting Liam and Aiden playing on his swing set.
“Ruby!” Aiden squeals, rushing over to me. “Is it true? Are you my new nanny?”
“I am. Is that alright with you?”
“Duh! Come on. I’ll show you where your room is!”
“Ok, little man. Let me just grab my?—”
“I’ve got it.” Liam takes several purposeful strides toward my truck, but I can’t move because that voice is the one I hear in my dreams, all gruff and commanding. He grabs my suitcase and guitar case and carries them over. “Lead the way, buddy.”
Aiden slides his hand into mine and tugs. I jolt as he drags me up the front steps into the spacious house I’m going to temporarily call home. He pulls me up the stairs, and I glance longingly at Liam’s music room as Aiden turns in the opposite direction down the hall.
Like the music room, the bedroom has a vaulted ceiling with exposed wood beams, though this room is significantly larger. There’s a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the small grove of pine trees in the backyard. There might even be a treehouse or something back there, but I can't quite make out what it is from this distance.
The walls are a deep green, and a king-size wooden bed takes up the center of the room, fitted with white linens and covered in various textured pillows and blankets in neutral colors. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was the master bedroom. It smells like Liam, warm and earthy with something faintly spicy underneath.
Aiden plops onto the bed.
Liam deposits my suitcase and guitar near a large woodenarmoire, and he points toward a door at the far side of the room. “The bathroom is through there. Towels are in the closet, everything else is either in the vanity or under the sink.”
I enter the bathroom, wholly unprepared for the oasis awaiting me. There’s a massive soaker tub against the far wall, and a walk-in shower opposite. The ceiling is covered in warm wood panels with recessed lighting on a dimmer switch. There are wall shelves on either side of the vanity with real plants, and a cluster of amber glass jars with unlit candles inside.
“This isn’t a bathroom,” I say. “It’s heaven.”
Liam chuckles. “We’ll leave you to get settled. Make yourself at home.”
He gestures for Aiden to follow him out, and the little guy stops in the doorway with one last smile and a wave.
Once they're gone, I close the door, stand with my back to the bed, and trust fall into the plush mattress. “A girl could get used to this.”
It’s been two weeks since I returned home to Oak Ridge. Two weeks of farm chores, writer’s block, and not much else. Now, I’m somehow lying in my dream bedroom, surrounded by the scent of the one man I can’t get out of my head, no matter how much time passes.
Except for the music room back home, I didn’t put much effort into designing my penthouse. I never spent enough time there to care. It still has its cold, almost sterile feel that does nothing for my creativity. Here, in Liam’s beautiful home, I just know my heart is going to sing.
I pull my phone from my suitcase and sign into my social media accounts for the first time since I left my penthouse in the rearview. I’m inundated with notifications. Some are normal things like concert videos and photos from meet and greets. Others are articles about the end of my contract.
I take some time to interact with fan posts, liking, sharing, and leaving comments to let them know I appreciate theirsupport. It’s no great surprise when I come across trolls and hate comments, but I simply block the accounts and scroll past. I’ve learned to protect my peace whenever possible.
As I’m scrolling, a new alert pops up.
