Chapter Eighteen
Amanda
Part of the family now? Those few words feel like a kick to the gut at the same time they feel like the most wonderful thing in the world.
On the one hand, the idea of being welcomed and accepted so warmly feels amazing. I grew up feeling like I never really belonged. In a family that was neglectful and abusive. My parents were alcoholics and drug addicts more concerned with their next high than they were in making sure the needs of their children had been met.
On the other hand, though, I have to wonder if I'm only being welcomed so warmly because of our little business arrangement. If this is all part of the facade Brady is trying to sell. If his warm and welcoming acceptance only goes as far as what we can do for one another.
I have no way of really knowing.
The interior of the car is dark, so I can't really see his face. But I'd love to know what he's thinking. I saw a side of Brady today I am shocked even exists. Seeing him with his son, seeing how warm and gentle he is with him – seeing what a devoted dad he really is – it blew me away.
I've always kind of figured that he's too selfish and wrapped up in himself to be a good father. I expected to find that Nicholas is being raised by somebody like Miss Delia. So, it surprised me to no end to see firsthand how wrong my assumptions were.
Brady is quite a bit different than I've always thought he was. He's very different than how he's painted in the tabloids. I'm seeing a side of him very few people get to see and I have to admit – it's really attractive. I mean, physically, he's a gorgeous man. But seeing him as I've gotten to see him – outside the glare of the paparazzi cameras – it's changed my perceptions of him.
I find that I'm intrigued by him. Very intrigued. He's got that whole Southern charm rap down pat. He's witty and clever. Smarter than I gave him credit for in the beginning. And passionate – his passion is something I find incredibly alluring. He has something of a hard exterior and like me, he's got a biting sarcasm. He's a man used to getting what he wants and having people do what he tells them. He's not a man that likes to hear the word “no.”
But underneath all of that is the heart of a good man. I can see it. And I find it intoxicating.
I know that I have to shut all of this down now though. I can't let myself get too invested in him emotionally. For him, this is a business deal. A way to ensure his inheritance and make sure he doesn't lose his father's company – or his precious football team. This whole sham marriage is nothing more than a mutually beneficial relationship.
And I really need to remember that if I want to keep myself from getting hurt.
Still – there are times when he looks at me or says something that makes me think there could be more there. Something underneath the surface. There's some small piece of me that genuinely wonders if he could actually be into me.
It's unlikely. It's probably even highly doubtful. But still, those thoughts persist and I'm left to question whether it's a product of wishful thinking or because it's true.
“We're home,” he says.
The driver opens the door and we slide out, Brady carrying a limp and sleeping Nicholas up the short set of stairs to the front door of the house. The door opens before we get there and I see Miss Delia standing there with a smile on her face.
“Looks like somebody had a big day,” she says.
Brady nods. “He was out before we even left the park.”
“Bless his heart,” she says.
“Amanda, why don't you go grab a drink and I'll meet you on the back deck,” he says. “I want to go put Nicholas to bed.”
I nod and follow Miss Delia out to the back deck, as instructed. “What can I get you to drink, dear?” she asks.
“Oh, water will be fine,” I say. “Thank you.”
She nods and disappears back into the house. The sky overhead is dark and there's a bit of a chill in the air, but it feels wonderful. A moment later, Miss Delia appears and hands me a glass with some ice water in it.
“Thank you,” I say and take a drink.
Miss Delia stands there looking at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The way she's standing there reminds me of somebody holding on to a secret they're just bursting to tell.
“What is it, Miss Delia?” I ask.
“Brady really likes you.”
“I hope so,” I say, knowing I have to play my role. “I'm – pretty fond of him as well.”
“You're the first woman he's ever introduced to Nicholas,” she says. “He's always so careful about that.”
“Nicholas is a great kid,” I say.
“He is,” she replies. “He's a very special little boy.”
I give her a smile and take another drink of water. As I stand there, I can't help but feel like Miss Delia is taking my measure. That she's weighing me, judging my worth and my value. It feels a lot like how it would feel to have an overprotective mother eyeballing me. And I realize that she's as protective about Brady as she is Nicholas.
“You know,” she says. “I've known Brady since he was a little boy. I probably know him better than he knows himself. And I can tell you that he seems to really like you.”
I give her a smile. “And what makes you say that?”
“The way he talks about you. But mostly, the way he looks at you,” she replies. “Especially when you're not looking. He just seems to have this look of adoration on his face that I don't think I've ever seen.”
“Thank you for telling me that,” I say as heat rushes into my cheeks.
“Of course,” she replies, and then whispers conspiratorially, “we girls have to stick together and look out for one another in this man's world, don't we?”
I laugh and nod as she turns and walks back into the house. What she's saying makes my breath catch in my throat. I've been operating under the assumption that we're doing our best to sell this illusion of our impending marriage. That we're creating a detailed and intricate facade – a fact that was underscored by him telling me he had his personal assistant anonymously tip off the paparazzi that we'd be at the zoo today. Our first official coming out appearance.
Because he is who he is – Brady Keating, San Antonio's most eligible and sought-after bachelor – the news that he was at the zoo with some new mystery woman drew the paparazzi there like moths to the flame. I was a little put off at first, but had to reel it back in and remember that this is a deal we struck – our relationship has to be public. Which isn't all that hard to accomplish, given the fact that he's such a public personality.
Miss Delia, so far as I know, doesn't know about our little arrangement. Doesn't know that we're setting this all up to have a sham wedding – and that this is nothing more than a mutually beneficial relationship. So, it's possible that we're just selling this illusion incredibly well.
But the fact that she's known him since he was a kid – and according to her, knows him better than he knows himself – makes me wonder if she's seeing something more. Something I'm not. Could Brady actually be interested in me? Is it possible?
I shake my head, telling myself that no, it's not possible. That I'm nothing more than a business arrangement for him. A means to an end. But still, there's that nagging little voice in the back of my mind that makes me wonder. Is it the voice of pointless hope? Or the voice of my intuition – something that's rarely wrong.
Things have been chaotic and a whirlwind in my head for a little while now and I'm beginning to doubt that I can trust myself. Especially when it comes to anything Brady-related. The man has me all twisted up like a pretzel and there are times I don't know up from down.
“Did you have a good time today?”
His voice cuts through the maelstrom of thoughts in my head and I turn, giving Brady a smile and he hands me a glass of champagne. I don't necessarily feel like drinking – especially since I have to drive home soon – but I feel compelled to take it anyway.
And as the bubbly hits my tongue, I realize in that moment that everything today has been so perfect and I just want this evening to last.
“I had an amazing time,” I reply. “Thank you, Brady. I still can't believe you rented out the entire park for us.”
He shrugs. “I really don't like crowds.”
“Apparently.”
He turns to me. “I'm glad you had fun,” he says. “I had a wonderful day with you as well.”
I'm staring into his light blue eyes, feeling my pulse quicken. We stare into each other's eyes for several long moments, a companionable silence between us. But there's something more there than a companionable feeling. Something below the surface. A feeling of anticipation. Expectation.
And before I know what's happening, Brady leans forward and presses his lips to mine, kissing me with a feeling like burning desire.