Fiancée for Rent by Elizabeth Grey

Chapter 8

Liam

I took a step back away from my bathroom door in a slow, quiet, methodical pattern before my back hit the wall a few feet away. Making a study of the wood grain for distraction, I composed my breathing, shaken by the way Kylie's sobs made my stomach tense and nauseous. I'd not known my wife-to-be long, but with each meeting, she grew real, unlike most people in Hollywood.

My heart went out to her allergies as I imagined her body, her gorgeous form in that ethereal dress, hunched over, wracked with sobs. I wouldn't let myself think about it, the reason why I couldn't leave the door, couldn't leave her, even though she'd made it clear that she didn't want me involved in her pain.

When the door quietly cracked open, her dress wrinkled, her face puffy and eyes red, a knot formed in my gut. It took stiffening my every muscle not to go to her, pull her to me, and whisper whatever words I could muster as a means of comfort.

"I know you told me you wanted privacy. And I’ll honor that, but I couldn't leave you alone. You don't have to tell me a thing, not until you are ready, and then... well, just know I'm willing to listen if you need me to. But for now, if you need a hug or an ear, I'm here. I know you don't really know me, but regardless, I'm here for you."

As I pushed myself up to stand, she stepped toward me, one slow, unsteady step at a time. While I wanted to grab her, I resisted the urge, stood my ground. Arms out from gesturing, I kept them that way. She walked into me, rested her head on my chest, so I enfolded her body with my arms. She fit there like a glove. As I took in an unsteady breath, hugging tighter when her thin arms wrapped around my back, I closed my eyes to the sensation of empathy, though it felt like giving my heart away. With each sniff, I guess I still had a working organ as it ached within my chest.

"I do want to tell you, but all of those people out there. The damage I have done to their work."

"Screw them. I pay them more than enough. They can wait if you need some time alone. Or I'm sure they got enough shots they can use if you want to call it quits. Or they can redo your makeup, iron your dress. Whatever. You call the shots, Kylie Davis. You're going to be my wife soon. And that means you can do whatever your heart desires. It's a perk."

"Thank you," she said as she pulled back out of my arms, leaving them to feel bereft. "I think I'll have you tell them we need a few hours break. Give them time to re-press this dress and redo my make-up. Let's do it upright. But first, I do need some time. I'm sorry."

"Never apologize. I'll order food and let them take a few hours for lunch. Do you have something else to change into?"

"I have a bag out there somewhere. Cynthia should know where."

"I'll track it down when I tell them the new plan. Why don't you go upstairs? My bedroom is the room above the living room. Same view. Make yourself comfortable, and I'll bring up your bag shortly."

It took me no time to explain to the crew how the rest of the day would go. No one complained after the lunch I offered them by the pool. With Kylie's bag in hand, I took a few breaths and steadied myself before I knocked on the open door of my bedroom and asked for permission to enter.

"Come in," she said with a slight, shaky giggle. "It's your room."

"Here's your bag," I offered. "Once you change out of that dress, I told them to grab it from the chair in the hall and not to disturb you. I’ll be back soon with food. Do you want me to eat with them or you? You won’t hurt my feelings either way," I lied.

"No, stay. I owe you an explanation, and I might as well get it out while my face is already red.

She stood, then collapsed back onto the chair in front of the fireplace she'd been sitting in when I entered.

"Take your time. They won't come for the dress until they deliver the food. If they have to come twice, the house isn't that big. Besides, I set the task of dress pick up and food delivery to my head housekeeper to keep Cynthia reined in outside. I told her not to leave the pool area."

"Thank you. I appreciate all you're doing and how cool you're being about my theatrics. I'm sure after Isabelle, you didn’t need any of this."

"This is far from Isabelle’s theatrics."

"I had a boyfriend. A best friend. A man I thought I would marry. And he died," she said, the last word lost on a renewed sob.

I reached for a box of tissues and brought them to her. Then I took my place seated at her feet as I tried to decide if I should place my hand on her knee. Since she'd let me embrace her earlier, I let them go where they may. She let one hand fall lightly. The beauty of her thin, slim fingers over mine struck me, caught my next breath before I sighed, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Women crying. Male kryptonite. The simple explanation worked.

After a few minutes of silence, her sobs subsided again. I'd impressed myself with my show of patience.

"When I first moved to California, David moved here from Montana with me. He'd been my childhood best friend turned boyfriend, so I think my poor father was both relieved and dismayed he came with his little girl to the big city. Those first months here, I wouldn’t have made it through the disappointment this city dishes out without David by my side, supporting me financially and emotionally. He was just, well, wonderful. He was my whole world at the time."

"It's okay. Take your time," I coaxed when her breath shook. I squeezed her knee.

"That day, we'd been on our way to the beach. He'd insisted I take an actual day off. But, I got it in my head halfway there to head for the hills. I wanted to see the Hollywood sign up close. Get the iconic photos. It never happened. A deer came out of nowhere. I turned away too fast. He'd just unbuckled to grab something from the bag in the back when the car tipped over. He was thrown. He died..."

When she left off, she began to cry again. I sat there frozen in place, letting her get it all out. I felt helpless, reminiscent of when I lost my mother to cancer. I couldn't imagine her pain. Her guilt. And, at the same time, in some way, I could. My heart broke, and while my head reeled around my next move, I sat still.

When she crumpled forward, I did manage to slide one hand free from under her chest so that I could place it on her head. I rubbed my guitar string roughened fingers down over her silky hair to keep from pulling the woman in a near fetal position onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her in a crushing embrace. Instead, we both struggled for our breath. Separate, but together.

She finally sat up, and I grabbed three more tissues from the box beside me in rapid succession before I shoved them at her. A short giggle burst from her lips as she took them from me, granting me a faint smile, and I did my best to match it.

"I've never forgiven myself for not handling the car better. For changing our plans."

"Kylie, it was an accident," I begged, pleading for her to hear me.

"That's what everyone says. It doesn't change how I feel."

"You can't forgive yourself."

"Exactly. When you got down on one knee for the picture, I flashed back to memories of how I'd pictured David asking me to marry him one day. We never got there."

"I'm so sorry you went through that—losing him."

"Thank you. And thank you for listening. It feels good to talk about him, actually. David is the reason I never date. Not that you even knew that. But I don't, so let me apologize now if I end up being rusty."

"I’m not great at it either. Blind leading the blind. I’m sure Cynthia and Jake will direct us."

"Deal," she said, grabbing for the tiny necklace that hung from her neck.

"Is that a gift from him?" I asked.

"It is. I never take it off."

"And you don't have to. You shouldn't."

"Thank you, Liam. Thank you for everything you've done for me today, for all you have promised to do for me in the future already. I know it's a contract, but listening to me cry about a man I loved isn’t part of it. It shows the man you truly are."

"I don't know what to say," I offered.

"The great songwriter is at a loss for words," she teased, a dull smile forced on her face.

At that point, I looked straight into the sorrow in her beautiful blue eyes and marveled at the way she looked at me. Something unlocked within me.