Christian Parkinson's playboy lifestyle has taken an interesting turn when he met the sharp and witty Kylie Preston. She has something in her that other women lack - the guts to call him on his bullshit.
She's not the type he dates but Christian fin...
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Kylie
The engagement went smoothly as planned. The Parkinsons arrived Sunday afternoon and the whole evening was a blur. They weren't strangers – at least to me. They are more or less acquaintances. Before Audrey and Vren happened, Audrey is involved with the Parkinsons, although not in a BFFs kind of way. Which makes me involved too since my boss had no other life outside of her job. And since I had none as well, I practically live in Audrey's life.
Audrey's soon to be parents-in-law, Margaret and Nicholas Parkinson are the sweetest people – contrary to the snooty crowd of the upper-crust. My job has allowed me to coexist with them, maybe a lot more than I could count. Most of those times aren't pleasant. Somehow, they see through you and rate you with no more than five fingers before you even speak. I was only at the events on professional capacity, but it wasn't an immunity.
Their children are nice people – except for you know who. Cade Parkinson came along with their parents (his pregnant wife is not safe to travel) but had to leave immediately because he couldn't leave Kathie's side. Vren and Audrey understood. The woman is carrying three babies in her body. If one baby never budged Vren from Audrey's side during her pregnancy I could only imagine how his brother despises not being around his wife.
Christian was days early, so I'm going to skip him. Andrei and their little sister arrived a little over an hour after their parents. They've been doting on their nephew since then. I try to be invisible, because it was a private family celebration. Which should leave me and the nanny a couple of strangers. But Andrei and Ichinandra keep me included in conversations. Like somehow, I was part of it too.
Among Vren Parkinson's siblings, only one couldn't come. Matthew Parkinson. It wasn't a surprise, really. Because he's known to travel a lot and to be extremely good-looking. He is that one rare kind someone like me could never get a chance on. He is gorgeous – it runs in the family, apparently – and a good person too.
Their mother was slightly sad that he couldn't come. The rest of them were but they got over it sometime around dinner. Every one resided to their respective bedrooms since the cabin has several of those. More than enough.
I wake up in my bed, suddenly thirsty. It was half past midnight. I flick the lamp on and rolled out of bed. The hallway was deafeningly silent and dark if it weren't for the light coming from downstairs, I would stumble my way down. I gripped the banister and hoped the wooden stairs won't creak.
The fireplace is keeping the living room warm. It wasn't only the warmth that drew me to the room. Christian was on one of the couches, asleep. I find it bearable around him when he's sleeping. Plus, he looks better asleep. The permanent cockiness that constantly drives someone up the wall is not there.
I turn away to the kitchen, in fear of getting caught staring again. I yawned sleepily and shuffled toward the fridge. I poured myself a glass of water and leaned against the counter, enjoying the quiet. A rustling from outside snapped me out of my thoughts, my nerves jumping to overdrive. I put the glass down and hope it won't clatter noisily because my hands were shaking.
The noise moved over to the door, the shadow casting in through the window was enormous and almost beastly.
I clapped a hand to my mouth to keep the frightened shriek down my throat. The knob twisting was all the motivating force I needed to make a run.
"Christian. Christian," I screeched, surprised that the sound was barely a scream.
It must be the freezing bile in my throat that kept it from coming out. I floundered to the living room, my legs limping like noodles. "Christian," I panted, the first time I'm seeing him where my first impulse wasn't "away."
I lurched toward him, practically dumping myself to him.
His eyes snapped open and he flinched, yelping in surprise. "Kylie?"
My legs straddle his lap. My arms flung around his neck and I would've sunk my face further if I would be allowed to. "Bear."
"What is it, Kylie?" His voice was still raspy from sleep. And there was something comforting about it.
"There's a bear in the kitchen," I blurted, burrowing myself to the crook of his neck when the thought of the wild animal crosses my mind again.
His arms went around me... the gesture protective.
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