A little less than a year ago…
“Oooh!”
Ren half-groaned, half-cheered with Tank as the two of them watched Candy flip Cross over her shoulder, using his momentum to slam him flat on his back on the mat. They never missed a chance to watch Candy’s weekly schooling of Cross, but this week his usual enjoyment had been stripped out of the activity.
The new guy, Dylan, stood next to Tank, quizzing him about the ritual beat down, but Ren tuned him out, focused instead on the battle on the mat as Cross leapt to his feet and charged.
Rookie mistake.
Candy had him in a choke hold and tapping out in under a minute—but Cross fought through every second of it and Ren ground his molars as he watched them thrash.
Cross was twice her size. Even knowing she could take care of herself didn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t get hurt—but if he let on that he cared, if he dared to worry about her, he’d be the bad guy. The one who wasn’t playing by the rules.
Pushing. And God forbid he push. God forbid he want her to actually acknowledge what they were to each other.
The whole thing pissed him off. They’d fought about it again last night.
“You’re still telegraphing everything you do,” Candy coached as she climbed off Cross’s back.
Ren bit his tongue as she gave her pupil pointers, waiting to comment until she’d sent Cross to the showers and moved to grab the towel on the bench beside him. “He almost had you with that leg sweep.”
“He’s improving.” She swiped at the moisture on her neck and fluttered her lashes. “You sure you don’t want to try to take me? I promise to go easy on you.”
He met her eyes without smiling, letting her see the heat in his gaze, making sure she knew if they started to grapple it wasn’t going to end with anyone tapping out.
Adam broke into the eye-fucking before it could get indecent, asking Candy why she wasn’t kicking ass in the field. She turned away from Ren, flashing a smile at Adam, and it took a moment for his hormones to quiet down enough for him to focus on her words.
“Most men don’t want to challenge Tank—” She nodded to the big man. “But they underestimate me. Which is kinda awesome in its own way, but it makes me less effective as a deterrent. So I hang around here, play with my toys and rule the world from my digital lair while you guys get to play with the celebrities. But fair warning, if we ever get hired to guard Ryan Reynolds, I am taking each one of you out if that’s what it takes to get that contract.”
Ren snorted—he knew for a fact she thought The Rock was hotter than Reynolds. The sound drew Candy’s gaze, and a sultry purr, “Don’t be jealous, Pretty Boy. I’ll still let you join my man harem.”
Ren just smiled, but five minutes later, when Adam had been called up to talk to the boss and Tank was busy setting up the weight room, he found her in the changing room, locking the door behind him. “Man harem?”
She’d stripped off her tank top and turned to him, wearing just her sports bra, shorts and a wicked smile. “Would you like to audition for a spot?”
“I better already have a spot. And it had better be the only one.”
She boosted herself up on the counter. “I’m willing to be persuaded…”
* * * * *
Present day…
Candy sank down onto the bed, staring across the room at where the pastries and coffee sat innocently on the dresser—a reminder of the way the day could have gone.
They could have grabbed a quick breakfast together before sneaking off to the coast, leaving family drama behind and pretending they were normal lovers who held hands on the boardwalk and stole a kiss with their toes in the sand.
So much for that fantasy. Reality had different plans.
Some days she genuinely hated Ren’s uncle.
It didn’t matter what Javi did, how much of a user he proved himself to be. Ren pardoned him of every crime before he could commit it by waving around that magic word: family. It was Javi’s get out of jail free card—in this case possibly quite literally.
But Ren was right. Her instincts could tell her to protect him all she wanted, but she didn’t have the right to do it. She didn’t have any say in his life. And that was how she’d wanted it—wasn’t it?
Her musings were interrupted by a shout from the front drive and Candy rushed to the window, her heart leaping up to her throat in the hope that she might see Ren before he could drive away, but it wasn’t her “husband” facing down her father in the driveway.
It was Aiden.
Her brother charged down the steps and before she could process what was happening, her father grabbed Aiden’s shoulder to stop him—and Aiden swung on him, his fist flying toward her father’s face. Candy gasped and bolted from the window, not waiting to see if her brother’s blow connected, taking the stairs two at a time.
“Aiden!” her mother shouted as Candy flew out the door to the front of the house. “Stop this!”
Regina stood at the top of the steps, watching Thomas and Aiden clumsily grapple with one another. It was immediately apparent that neither of them had the first idea what they were doing in a fight—and neither of them really wanted to hurt the other, which made the “fight” more of a slow dance in which Aiden was trying to extract himself from his partner.
“What are you doing?” Candy charged down the steps to intervene, putting herself between the two men who were both breathing heavily—her father from exertion and Aiden from temper.
“Stay out of this, Candy,” Aiden demanded, his voice harsher than she’d ever heard it. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“I’ll reserve judgment on that until you tell me why you just tried to deck our father in the driveway.”
Aiden’s face flushed—but she couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment turning his face that shade of red. Possibly both. “I wasn’t trying to hit him.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“Aiden—” Her father chose that moment to enter the verbal fray. “You have to know we’re only thinking of what’s best for you. Your mother and I—”
“Can go to hell.”
“Aiden,” her mother gasped and even Candy was taken aback by the snarled words from her most easy-going sibling.
“What’s going on? Is this about running for office?”
Aiden laughed bitterly, shaking off her hand on his arm, though he didn’t try to leave. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Candy? Everything is about running for office. From the second we’re born until the second we die, every little thing we do, everyone we speak to, everyone we care about, it’s all about running for office when you’re a Raines. Isn’t that right?”
The words were something she would have said—many of them things she had said—but it was disorienting hearing them coming from Aiden’s lips. She had suspected her brother was more like her than their older siblings, but never known for sure until the truth poured out on a tide of bitter frustration.
When no one else volunteered information, Candy took another stab. “Are they trying to pressure you to remarry?”
It was one of her mother’s favorite themes—second to getting her children into the White House, marriage was paramount in Regina’s eyes.
Another bitter bark of laughter—but her mother spoke before Aiden could.
“I would never pressure you into something you weren’t ready for,” Regina spoke directly to her youngest, coming down the steps, though she stopped several feet away, separate from the fray. “You know I think you’ll win easily if you run as a widower. I only want you to be happy—”
Aiden snorted, but she went on as if he hadn’t made a sound.
“If you would just let me introduce you to a few suitable women—”
“Mom, you can’t decide for Aiden when he’s ready to move on.” It was obvious he still loved his wife. Why couldn’t her mother accept that? She’d loved Chloe. The perfect daughter-in-law who had given her two perfect grandchildren—before dying tragically in a way that would only enhance Aiden’s political capital with a healthy sympathy vote.
Aiden shook his head. “That’s just it, Candy. I am ready to move on. That’s the whole problem.”
“Aiden.” Her father’s voice, full of authority and heft. “You aren’t thinking this through. I know it’s easy to get caught up in the passion of the moment, but when you’ve calmed down you’ll see we’re right. This is your future, son.”
Aiden was already shaking his head when their mother added, “You have to fire her.”
Candy frowned. “What are we talking about?” Fire who?
“I’m in love with her,” Aiden declared, uncompromising.
“You think that now—” her father began, but his wife spoke over him.
“An upstanding young widower with two adorable daughters wins in a landslide. No one votes for the sleaze who’s banging his nanny.”
Shock rattled through Candy and she released her father’s arm, belatedly realizing she was still holding it. She took a step back like an automaton.
Like father, like son.
Then her mother added her coup d’état. “Especially his Muslim nanny.”
“And there it is again. What this is really about,” Aiden snarled.
“We live in troubled times—” his father began, always the diplomat.
“All the more reason not to demonize good people for what other people who share their religion have done. What if we were all blamed for the Inquisition? The Crusades? Every war ever fought in the name of Christianity?”
“This isn’t as simple as that. People are frightened—”
“So is Samira! Frightened of being attacked by small-minded people who only see the color of her skin—”
“Maybe when things calm down—” Her father, always the mediator. Hands extended in supplication. Still trying to pacify. To placate. To bring everyone together.
“No. I’m not going to wait until it’s politically correct to be with her. I’m not going to let someone else’s prejudice dictate my life.”
“Think of your children,” her mother urged.
“I am,” Aiden growled. “The girls adore her and she’s amazing with them. She is more mother to them than anyone they’ve ever known and you want me to fire her because… why, exactly? Because some constituent somewhere might think I’m allowing my pristine blonde daughters to be tainted by her Muslim-ness?”
“Aiden.” His name was a firm scold on her mother’s lips. “You know we don’t indulge in fear politics—”
“But you don’t stand up to it either. Don’t you see that’s just as bad?” He laughed again, without humor. “What am I saying? Of course you don’t. You don’t see at all. You’ve never seen anything but what you want. And I’ve gone along with it. But maybe I don’t want that anymore.”
“Aiden!” There was a note of panic in her mother’s voice, because Aiden was already around the edge of the house, out of sight, moving quickly.
“He’ll calm down.” Her father reached for her mother in an unfamiliar attempt at comfort, but his wife brushed away his hands.
“Don’t fuss at me, Thomas.” She smoothed her hands over her skirt, visibly regaining her composure. “Of course he’ll come to his senses. I only hope he does so before he embarrasses himself in front of all our guests.”
“Maybe this is him coming to his senses,” Candy suggested, earning a glare from her mother for the remark.
“That isn’t helpful, Candice,” Regina snapped, before drawing in a calming breath and asking as if nothing had happened, “Did Charlotte give you your reading to practice for the ceremony?”
Candy arched a brow. “This is the first I’m hearing about a reading.”
“Well, come on then.” Her mother flicked her fingers at her. “We’d best get you a copy.”
Candy would have suspected her mother of making up the reading to distract her from the drama with Aiden, except she doubted her mother would allow any changes to the ceremony at the last minute—even for the sake of a diversion. She obediently fell into step behind her mother, crossing her fingers that the worst of today’s surprises had already been revealed.