Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Figuring I have to start somewhere, I pull into the first driveway I come up to. I’m not sure if this is Nathan’s house, but it likely belongs to someone in this family. Apparently, they all need my help.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Funky. “Be a good kitty.”
Steeling my spine, I climb out and stride toward the house. This home, unlike the last, is modern, clean, and perfect. Despite it being mid-November, the grass is still green and trimmed neatly. I walk up the porch and knock on the door, hoping this encounter goes better than the last.
When the door opens, my breath catches. The man standing before me is a god. Tall, muscular, donning an expensive three-piece navy suit. His tousled hair gives him a slightly boyish look, but his stern features are all business. Sharp blue eyes—much like the ones that split me in two moments ago—burn into me.
“No soliciting,” the man says icily. “This is a private drive.”
Is everyone in this family cold and rude?
I clear my throat, ready to answer, when a deep voice chuckles behind me. The fact someone easily snuck up on me doesn’t bode well, sending a fierce shiver down my spine. Whipping around, I’m met by another god-like man who resembles this one.
“Nathan Park,” the older of the two greets, smiling at me. “We spoke on the phone. Mr. Prince, right?”
The chill running through me warms several degrees and I smile back, offering my hand to my new employer. “Call me Tate. I, er, wasn’t sure where you lived.” I rub at the back of my neck, hating how my cheeks burn hot. “I ran into a snag at the address you gave me.”
The man behind me snorts. “Jude’s address?”
Nathan frowns, turning to look back at the monstrous house that should have been condemned decades ago. “He didn’t let you in.” Not a question. A statement. He expected this. Lovely.
“And he fired me,” I grumble.
The other man laughs, deep and clearly amused by this thought. Nathan pins him with a sharp glare that could cut through someone like me, so I’m glad it’s not aimed my way.
“Callum,” Nathan says, “talk to your brother. He actually listens to you.”
Callum—hottie in a suit—steps out of the house to stand beside me. His scent is expensive and spicy. My mouth waters and I quickly banish any salacious thoughts because I’m supposed to be a professional here—not foaming at the mouth when surrounded by hot guys.
“Jude does what he wants,” Callum replies, shrugging. “Who’s the kid?”
Kid?
I bristle at the condescension dripping from his words. I’m twenty-seven, not seventeen, despite my youthful features.
“Family therapist,” Nathan cuts in, saving me from having to explain myself to this prick. “And he needs a place to stay now apparently.”
Shifting on my feet, I mutter, “I can stay at my apartment and commute—”
“Nonsense,” Nathan huffs. “We need you here full time. You’ll stay with my other son.”
“Hugo?” Callum asks, voice tight.
“You,” Nathan says with a smirk.
“You hired him,” Callum growls. “You take him in.”
Wow. This job is going to be super-fun. Not.
“Look at him.” Nathan flicks his fingers my way. “Gemma won’t leave him alone. I won’t have my teenage daughter pregnant by Christmas.”
What?
“I, uh, I’m not going to—”
Callum cuts me off, stepping closer to his father, shoulders tense. “I’m supposed to let some stranger live in my house? Willa is pregnant, for fuck’s sake.”
Who do these people think I am?
Some psychotic rapist?
“Callum, this isn’t up for discussion. Either you convince Jude to take Tate in or he stays with you.”
It’s like I’m not even here.
These two have some serious beef if the thick tension in the air is anything to go by. Makes me wonder if I’ll get to dig into that soon in a session.
“I’m gay,” I reveal with a sigh. “Your daughters and wives are safe.”
Callum’s head jerks my way and he smirks. It’s not a cruel, teasing kind of smirk—at least, not toward me. I realize my words will soon become ammunition based on the evil glint in his gaze.
“He could room with Dempsey,” Callum taunts, his eyes cutting back over to his father. “Since Gemma would be safe and all.”
Nathan, thankfully, doesn’t take the bait. “It’s settled. He stays with you.”
Callum shrugs, no longer interested in arguing now that my sexuality isn’t a threat to him. The dynamic between these two is brittle and flammable.
“How, uh, do you want to do this?” I ask Nathan. “The sessions, I mean.”
“Settle in,” Nathan says, gesturing for Callum’s house. “Tomorrow, at family dinner, I’ll properly introduce you to everyone. Jude, Spencer, Audrey, and Dempsey will need to be put on the schedule immediately. My home is two doors down. You may use my office for your sessions.”
With those final words, Nathan turns on his heel and strides away without so much as a thank you.