Page 6 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

“Liz, can you read me a bedtime story tonight?”

His request surprises me. I mean he met me only a few hours ago. Instantly my heart warms up to Max. Nate starts to object, but I cut in,

“I’d love to, Max. If it’s okay with your dad.”

Nate looks between us, then stiffly nods.

“I’ll get him ready for bed. We’ll call you.”

“Perfect,” I reply, trying to shake off the complex layers of emotion Nate’s presence stirs in me.

As they head upstairs, I'm left with my thoughts, wondering what’s happening to me and why I'm reacting to Nate the way I am. I hope this arrangement won't be harder than I thought.

Chapter two

Nate

The morning air bites at my skin as I pull Max through the motions of our usual routine. He's dragging his feet, still caught in the fog of sleep, his backpack hanging over one shoulder. I guide him through the living room, but the sight of Liz stops me cold.

She’s there, standing in the soft light of the early morning, and for a second, I forget where I’m supposed to be going. The tousled waves of her hair frame her face, and the sleepiness in her eyes only adds to this unsettling pull. She’s... stunning. And that, frankly, is a problem.

"Morning, Liz," I manage to say, my voice sounding far too normal for how off-balance I actually feel. She flashes me a smile—easy, warm—and something in my chest tightens.

"Morning, Nate. Hi, Max," she chirps, casting a glance at Max. He grunts his usual morning non-response, and I almost smile.

"There's breakfast for you in the microwave," I tell her, trying to focus on practical things.

"My housekeeper will be by later, and the dog walker’s coming for Boomer."

"Thanks, Nate," she replies. There's a teasing note in her voice, like she knows how tightly I'm gripping my routine.

Max pulls at my hand, his silent way of telling me he’s had enough of morning pleasantries. I nod, using him as my excuse to leave.

"We should get going. Can’t be late for school," I say, though I’m not really talking to him. I just need to get out of here, away from her, because standing in the same room with Liz feels... dangerous. My thoughts scatter every time she’s near, going places that they shouldn't.

As Max and I head out the door, I try to shake it off—the way she looked at me, the way her smile twisted something inside me. My thoughts won’t settle. In the car, silence stretches between me and Max, and I can’t stop thinking about Liz. She has grown into someone who’s hard to ignore, more like impossible to ignore.

How is it that the skinny girl I once knew has turned into this woman who pulls at every nerve I’ve managed to lock away? I can't figure it out, and worse, I can't shake the thought of her. She's Bryan’s sister. That should be enough to keep me at arm’s length. It has to be. Because no good will come of letting myself feel... whatever this is.

I drive Max to school on autopilot, going through the motions of our routine. As we pull up to the curb, I force a smile.

"Have a good day, buddy."

I say, ruffling his hair before he heads toward the school gates. His grumpy nod is the only acknowledgment I get, but I still find myself smiling. He’s all I’ve got from that mess of a marriage, and for that, I’m grateful.

I watch him go, my mind already slipping back to Liz. Her laugh, the way she moved around the kitchen like she’d alwaysbelonged there. Damn it. It’s like she’s everywhere, even when she’s not. And it’s throwing me off.

No matter how much I try I can’t seem to escape her. Her smile, her laugh. It all echoes in my head, the kind of melody you can't shake. A distraction I most desperately need to push away.

Her smile this morning had me on edge. I managed to mutter something about breakfast and the housekeeper before rushing Max out the door. How can someone I’ve known for years—Bryan’s little sister, no less—suddenly stir things in me I haven’t felt in... well, too long?

I grip the steering wheel tighter as I remind myself to stop thinking about her. She's Bryan's sister. Off-limits. My life is complicated enough without adding that layer. I repeat the words in my head, but they do nothing to quell the heat that rises every time I remember the way her eyes lit up when she greeted me this morning.

I park at the office, hoping the day’s work will provide the distraction I need. Stepping inside, the familiar hum of the place grounds me. Business, at least, is something I can control.

"Morning, Nate," Janet greets me, handing over my coffee—black, the way I like it. No room for distractions or indulgences today.

"Morning. Anything I need to know before the 9 am with Brady?" I ask, mentally preparing myself for what should be a smooth final stretch toward closing the Northgate deal.

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