Page 104 of Holiday Hire

Her face hardens, and she turns it toward the window, breathing faster.

"Shit. I'm not saying this right, Pheebs," I admit, tugging my hair.

She slides out of bed and pulls the sheet around her. "It's okay."

"No, Pheebs?—"

"No, it's fine. Don't worry. It was fun. I won't attack you or anything in front of them." She tosses me a tight smile.

"Phoebe, I didn't mean it like that," I declare.

She forces a bigger smile and chirps, "It's okay. I'm going to take a shower. I'll see you later at the main house. Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

"Pheebs—"

"All good," she practically sings, disappearing through my bedroom door.

Shit, shit, shit!

I sit on the end of the bed, pissed at myself, wondering why I said what I did the way I said it.

What exactly was I trying to say anyway?

"Ugh," I mumble, putting my hands over my face.

This is new territory for me. I don't bring women I sleep with to the ranch, and I definitely don't sleep with women who have an important role in my kids' lives.

What have I done?

I need to fix this.

But I need to protect my sons.

I didn't expect this. It just happened.

Bullshit. I've been dying to get her in bed since I met her.

No, I haven't,I tell myself, knowing it's another lie.

Until I know what Phoebe and I are and what this means, I need to keep the boys in the dark.

I step into the hallway and knock on the bathroom door, but the shower's on. I turn the knob, finding it locked.

Great. Way to go, Alexander.

I step back into my room, shower, toss on clothes, and brush my teeth. I return to the bathroom, but Phoebe's hair dryer is blaring.

I decide it's best to give us both a little bit of space and figure out what exactly I'm trying to say or even what I want us to be to each other.

I remind myself this can't go anywhere. She's leaving in less than two months. And she still has a douchebag sort-of boyfriend in her life.

Not for long.

She can't be with him. She's with me.

Is she?

What is this between us?

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