Page 6 of Take Me, Sir

Kyndall

I always thoughtof myself as a strong person, brave even. I graduated from high school at sixteen and then moved to the other side of the country all by myself. I'd not only survived on my own, but thrived. Coming back here, though, seemed to sap all of that strength.

Case in point, I was currently playing with my nephew in Dalton and Juliette’s amazing apartment, but I'd told my parents that this past week in LA had been spent house-sitting for my brother and helping my sister-in-law's parents with Anthony. While that was technically accurate, I'd kept the full truth to myself.

I was staying in LA, at least for a little while. My parents had kept protests to a minimum when I'd stayed in Cambridge through summers, but I'd known that was because I was in college. Even the apartment I rented there had been in an area where other students lived. They'd never let me hear the end of it if I said I wanted to live there for good, so far away from family. And I didn't really want to be that far away from them all the time. Just far enough that I could have my own life without them interfering.

Los Angeles was perfect for that. I was close enough that I'd still be involved in family things without too much trouble, but I'd be able to go about my day-to-day business without running into my parents. And with Dalton here, it'd be easy enough to imply that he'd keep an eye on me. And, with Dalton, at least I'd have an ally in Juliette.

A string of babbling sounds and half-formed words drew my attention back to the dark-haired little boy in front of me. He was almost a year old, and it still amazed me how a child so young could have so much personality. I was thirteen when my niece Mara had been born, but I hadn't spent much time with her, some because I'd been focusing on school, but some because my parents and my sister had always made excuses about why someone else was the better choice for a babysitter. By the time the other kids had come along, I was already in college, so this past week with Anthony had been something new.

I was actually better with the kid than I expected to be. I wasn't sure if that was because I'd just been nervous about my lack of experience, or because a part of me took my parents' lack of faith in me to heart. Either way, I'd been pleasantly surprised by how much I'd enjoyed babysitting Anthony. Not that I'd done it a lot. Juliette's parents had kept Anthony most of the week, but their flight had left at ten this morning, and Dalton and Kyndall's plane was running a couple hours late, so they'd taken me up on my offer.

“You're going to be a real lady-killer.” I ran my hand over Anthony's silky hair. He looked so much like Dalton's baby pictures, except with dark hair instead of light. “All right, so there are some things you need to know to survive our family. First, I know most people might tell a kid to take it easy on their parents, but not me. Your father's awesome, but I want you to give him hell.”

Anthony laughed and waved his hands at me.

“I probably shouldn't have said hell, huh?” I grinned at him. “I have a feeling your parents both swear more than that, but we'll keep it our little secret, okay? You won't tell on me, right? I mean, I am your favorite aunt.”

I glanced up at one of the pictures above the fireplace. Dalton, Juliette, Cross, and Hanna. I called Cross a couple days ago to let him know about the gift I'd left in the house, and he'd let me know that everything was going well with Hanna and the baby. I had a feeling I'd like the two of them even more once I got to know them.

“Okay, so Hanna can be your favorite aunt on your mother's side,” I told Anthony. “I can settle for being your favorite on your dad's side.” I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We just won't tell Aunt Lia.”

Anthony made a grab for my hair, and I laughed, tossing it over my shoulders as I turned him around to face the soft fabric blocks I'd found. He laughed again and grabbed at them. I leaned back against the couch and watched him play, appreciating the downtime.

Even though I hadn't been babysitting all week, I hadn't been taking a vacation either. I liked the idea of living in LA, but I knew the only way my parents would be okay with me staying here would be to prove that I was responsible.

Maybe okay was too strong a word. They wouldn't like it no matter what, but if I had things under control, they'd most likely just sit back and wait for me to screw up. They wouldn't say it like that, of course, but they'd remind me that they would be here when I needed them. They'd tell me to call them when I ran out of money, or when I got tired of staying with Dalton and Juliette. They'd try to make me feel guilty for crashing at my newlywed brother's place, even if this apartment was so huge that I could live in a guest room for a month and never see anyone else.

Since I knew that's how my parents would be, I'd spent the week working on preempting problems. The first one had been looking for an apartment. I knew that it'd be smart to do what I'd done back in Cambridge and find something small and unassuming, the kind of thing that I could believably pay for with a regular job. After all, I had the sort of degree that normally equaled a good-paying job. Now that I had a doctorate, I should've been able to get a better paying job than the one I pretended to have in Massachusetts so I could've found something decent.

But I didn't want decent.

I wanted to finally have the life I could afford. I was tired of hiding, of pretending to be something I wasn't. Moving here would give me the opportunity to find my own place, figure out who I was without all of the school and family stuff. Dalton would be a safety net – one I didn't intend to ever need – and my parents would be less likely to freak out when I told them. Besides, I planned on taking a page from my brother's book and reminding them that LA was closer than where I'd gone to college.

So I spent a few days looking at places before putting down a deposit on an apartment almost as amazing as this one. Which made sense since it was located just one floor below. Discretion regarding just how much money I had would've been a good idea, but I'd fallen in love with the place the moment I'd seen it and decided it was well worth the risk. Besides, Dalton had a new wife and an energetic almost one-year-old. I doubted he'd pay much attention to what I was doing.

I scrambled to my feet as Anthony made a beeline for the entertainment center. “Hold up there, speedster.”

I grabbed him around the waist and tossed him into the air, smiling as he let out a huge belly laugh. He was such a happy baby. My parents had always said Dalton was like that. The perfect little angel. Lia too. They'd lulled my parents into a false sense of security so that when I came along, they thought it'd be exactly the same. I never had to wonder what sort of baby I'd been because they loved telling the stories.

Like how I'd had colic for weeks and kept everyone up all hours.

Or how I'd gotten my days and nights mixed up for three whole months.

My personal favorite was when they'd tell people about my childhood habit of stripping off all my clothes and running around stark naked.

Cute.

Even as I thought the word, another word came to mind.

Gorgeous.

And, of course, I heard it in a British accent. Because half my damn thoughts this past week had been in that fucking accent. I heard it in my dreams.

Heard him in my dreams.

I'd had a couple of sexual encounters in my past, but Dean had blown them all away. I'd been able to feel his body for days afterward, so I knew that it was a good thing that he'd only been visiting LA. If I'd known he lived here, known that I had a chance of seeing him again, I would've wanted to, and that wouldn't have been a good idea. He hadn't struck me as the sort of guy who wanted to get involved with anyone, and I didn't want to taint the memories I had.

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