Love Unwritten (Lakefront Billionaires, #2)

by Lauren Asher

“Is that why you fired Ellie?” “No.” “You’re intimidated by their relationship,” he states, completely ignoring me. “I never said that.” “Rafa.” Julian clamps his hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Come on, man. You know Nico has a heart big enough for the two of you.”

“No one could ever replace you. He worships the ground you walk on, regardless of whatever rough patch you’re going through right now.” I unleash a pent-up breath. “I wish things were better.” “Maybe the trip will help.” “If there even is a trip.” Julian takes a long pull from his beer bottle. “Maybe you could…” I stop paying attention to him once I catch Ellie’s blond hair out of the corner of my eye.

“To be young and drinking shots without consequences.” Julian sighs wistfully. “You’re two years older than them.” He grimaces. “It’s all downhill once you hit thirty.” My frown deepens when I catch Ellie laughing at one of the guys, and my chest constricts at the carefree look on her face as she smiles at a few people who pull her into a hug. God. What has gotten into you?

“Oh look. They’re toasting to her being unemployed.” I shoot him a scathing look. “I can see that.” I see the whole damn thing, including the way some asshole I recognize from my graduating class throws his arm around her and sloppily kisses her cheek. Is that her boyfriend? She has gone on a few dates—that much I gathered from eavesdropping and her requesting time off—but I don’t remember her mentioning being in a relationship. Don’t tell me you’re jealous? No, of course I’m not jealous.

I scan the back of the bar where Ellie was seated, only to find the spot empty. People near the stage whistle before an “Ellie” chant begins. “I see you all got me tipsy on purpose.” A soft chuckle follows the voice I’d recognize anywhere.

The first chords of a song begin to play from the speakers lining the stage. “I love you!” a woman shouts from the side, and I follow the sound to Willow, who has her phone in the air, high above the crowd so she can record the stage. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile. “Some of you might have heard a version of this song already⁠—” “Screw Ava Rhodes!” someone yells.

Ellie’s already flushed cheeks turn crimson. “Anyway, I don’t think some of you have heard it like this before.” The song restarts, and she shuts her eyes. Her foot taps against the worn wood floor beneath her, and her hips move to the music, drawing my gaze toward her legs again. I try to gain control of my roaming eyes, but the task proves increasingly difficult as the spotlight above her head turns on. Like a siren calling me toward a watery grave, Ellie pulls me into a hypnotic trance as soon as her lips part and the first line of lyrics pours out of her mouth. I want nothing more than to drown in the sound of her raspy voice. I’ve never heard her sing before. Anytime she plays, her lips remain sealed,

One a.m., lying in my bed, wondering which husband’s coming home to greet me. Could it be the man I married, or the one who smells of cheap roses and bottom-shelf whiskey? Three a.m., bleeding red, pleading for someone to come save me and my baby. Ominous lyrics weave a story about an abusive husband and his broken wife, and the slow buildup to the chorus has everyone swaying on their feet.

Ellie’s soft voice is thick with emotion, and her eyes have a sheen to them by the time she gets to the final verse. I don’t hear her because I’m too caught up in watching a tear roll down her cheek, the evidence of her pain written clear as day across her face. She may wipe it away with the tip of her tattooed finger, but I see it. Just like I see her.

I can’t deny the strong tug in my chest that I feel whenever I look over at her. It is the same one I felt when she first started working for me, back before I became consumed by my turbulent emotions, and one I should be wary of given my past. I’m not here because of whatever interest Ellie stirs inside me when I least expect it. I’m here for Nico.

With a voice like hers, she could be doing a lot more than nannying for my family, which begs the question why isn’t she?

ELLIE

A hundred pairs of eyes follow me to the back of the bar, but I pretend not to notice as I disappear into one of the unoccupied bathrooms. I need to gain control over my heart rate again before I go outside and face everyone. I’m not sure what I was thinking. That much became clear when my friends encouraged me to do something I haven’t tried in years—sing in front of a crowd. I love everything about music except performing, which is why I haven’t tried it since I lived in Los Angeles.

Maybe that’s why I got up and sang my heart out tonight. Maybe for three minutes of my life, I wanted to step out of the shadows and remind myself of who I was before Ava broke my heart. Mission accomplished. Rather than spend the rest of my night hiding in a dingy bathroom, I unlock the deadbolt and step into the dark hallway leading back to the bar. I only make it a few steps before my path is blocked by a large man taking up most of the space. He is as wide as he is tall, and his muscular arms nearly brush against the walls when he crosses them. His expensive black leather jacket might conceal his muscles, but I can tell the man works out religiously. I take a step forward, and the wood floor creaks beneath my sneaker. The man turns to face me with raised brows. It takes me two seconds to place the famous musician’s face. “Oh my God! You’re⁠—” A warm palm covers my mouth. “Please don’t say anything.”

He takes a deep breath. “Sorry for overreacting like this. Shit, I really don’t want people knowing I’m here, so please⁠—” “Get the hell away from her.” The hand covering my mouth is ripped away as Rafael shoves the wildly popular musician away from me. Cole’s spine slams into a wall, and he lets out a painful oomph as the back of his head bangs into the bricks. Rafael’s head swings in my direction, his nostrils flaring with each heavy breath. “Are you okay?” he asks in a slightly unhinged, guttural voice. My heart—that little, traitorous thing—squeezes as he reaches for my chin and gently lifts it so he can get a better look at me. His thumb brushes over my skin, and my breathing falters for a moment.

“Oh God. I’m so sorry.” “Why are you apologizing to him?” Rafael snaps. I ignore him. “Should I get you an ice pack or something?” Cole gives a thumbs-up. “I’ve dealt with worse, darling.” “Call her darling again and I’ll put that theory to the test.” Rafael looms over me like a shadow. I groan. “Can you not threaten him?” “You’re defending this guy?” “What’s your name?” Cole’s smile, while charming and confident, doesn’t make my heart skip or my stomach flip quite like one from the man hovering behind me. “I’m Ellie.” I hold out my hand and pray he doesn’t notice the way it trembles.

Cole grabs ahold of my hand and kisses the back of it, all while Rafael watches with flared nostrils. The brush of Cole’s lips against my skin doesn’t elicit a fraction of the reaction Rafael cradling my chin did, and I’m not sure what to make of that. “Ellie.” Cole tests the name in that deep, husky voice of his. “You’re the woman from the stage, right?” I nod. “You have a wonderful voice.” He releases my hand, and it hangs in the air for a second too long before I remember how to act like a normal human being. Shame replaces my shyness. “Sorry for acting like a complete weirdo. You just caught me by surprise.” “I’m the one who should be apologizing for freaking you out.” I let out a soft laugh. “It’s okay. I get it. It’s not every day that someone like you shows up in town.” “Someone like him?” Rafael asks while glaring at Cole. Seriously, what is going on with him, and why does my heart flutter at the mere idea of him being overprotective of me? Cole chuckles. “I’m used to having that effect on people.” Rafael scoffs. “Ever heard of being humble?”

“My manager suggested getting away for a while and offered to let me stay at his lake house. Thought it would help with my writer’s block or some bullshit.” “How’s that going?” I ask. “Not well, but I have a feeling that will all change now that I found you.”

“Do you need something?” I ask him with a surprisingly neutral voice. “Yes.” “Can it wait?” “No.” Cole’s amused gaze swings between us. “Boyfriend?” “No,” Rafael and I say at the same time. “Bodyguard?” I swallow my laugh. “Absolutely not.” Although Rafael sure is acting like one with the way he stands beside me like a guard dog ready to attack. “Then why is he here?”

“Anyway…that song. Shit, you can sing, darl—” He stops himself when Rafael’s head swivels in his direction. “Ellie.” Somehow, Rafael seems to hate him calling me Ellie more than darling. I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear to give my hands something to do. “Thanks.” “Did you write that rendition of ‘Late Nights’ by yourself?” His question makes me freeze. “Why?”

“Because it was brilliant.” My brows jump. “Really?” “Yeah. Honestly, I prefer it over the original.” “I agree,” Rafael says, making my chest constrict. Unlike Cole’s, my ex-boss’s compliment worms its way through my heart and remains there. You’re supposed to be mad at him. Not swooning over him acting remotely nice after being borderline unlikable for eight months. Maybe that’s why I’m having these kinds of reactions. I was so starved for attention from Rafael that I’m now moved by him doing the absolute bare minimum. Right. You keep telling yourself that. Cole continues, “I loved the rawness of the lyrics. They gave me chills.” I blink twice. “Oh wow. Thank you. That means a lot coming from someone like you.” “Do you have an agent?” “No.” The word carries a bitterness to it that makes me cringe. “Have you ever considered finding one? You could make a lot of money if you created another song like that with the right person.” I bristle. “I’m not interested.” “Why?” “I’m just not.”

There is something about his proximity that comforts me. That makes me feel like if I asked, he would whisk me away, no explanation needed. Cole raises his hands. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” I’m quick to get defensive. “You didn’t.” My chest rises from my deep breath. “It was nice meeting you and all, but I should get back to my friends before they think I ditched them.” His eyes flash with panic. “Wait.” Rafael tenses. Cole scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m screwing all this up. Fuck.” My head tilts with confusion. “Screwing what up?” “My first impression.” “First insinuates there will be more.” Rafael’s arms brush against my back as he crosses them over his chiseled chest, using the oldest intimidation technique in the book. While it doesn’t seem to have any effect on Cole, it does a number on me.

Cole surprises me by saying, “I’d love to grab a coffee or something if you’re free.” I blink twice. “You want to get coffee with me?” He laughs. “Um, yeah?” “Why?” “You’ll have to say yes to find out.” His wink makes me laugh. “She’s busy.” Rafael moves forward as he uncrosses his arms, stunning me once again as his hand curls around my shoulder. If he were anyone else, I would consider the move a quiet claiming, but this is Rafael I’m talking about. He doesn’t even like me, so I don’t understand why he is reacting this way. Unless… “Sure,” I say. Screw it. I might not be interested in writing songs, but if the mere idea of hanging out with Cole bothers Rafael, then what the hell. I’ll grab a cup of coffee with the singer.

Rafael struggles to mask his surprise. “What?” “I’m pretty flexible.” I shoot Cole a soft smile. Rafael’s eye twitches. “I thought you didn’t have any time.” My grin widens. “Turns out my schedule cleared up.” He glares. “How convenient.” Cole’s eyes light up as he pulls his phone from his back pocket. “Does Sunday work?” I nod. “Great. Can I get your number so we can coordinate?” “Of course.” I rattle off my number while Rafael taps his index finger against his straining bicep. My heart matches the beat, the drawn-out thumps filling my ears with a steady whooshing sound.

“Can I speak to you, please? Alone.” “Fine.” I might as well get this conversation over with, seeing as he won’t stop following me until I do. “See you soon, Ellie.” Cole tucks his phone back into his pocket and shoots me a parting wink from over his shoulder before disappearing out of the back exit, leaving me alone with the last person I want to talk to.

RAFAEL

It took me only a few seconds to put a name to the man who cornered Ellie in the back hallway near the Last Call bathrooms. I might not be up-to-date on tabloid headlines or celebrity gossip, but everyone with internet access knows about this particular musician’s undesirable reputation. Drugs. Women. Anger issues and drunken rampages. Ellie is the last person Cole Griffin should be dragging into his destructive spiral, and I plan on reminding her of just that once he disappears through the emergency exit door.

“You can’t seriously be thinking of going on a coffee date with him?” is the first thing I say. The very first—and very wrong—thing to say. I can’t help it, though. I’m a suspicious person by default, so even though Cole said he isn’t interested in Ellie, I don’t believe him, especially with the few articles I’ve seen making their rounds. She spins around. “I’m not thinking about it. I am doing it.” “He’s bad news.” “I’m not the kind of person who believes everything that’s in the media.” “Maybe you should.” “Why?” “He’s a cheater.” She tucks her arms against her chest. “So? Not that it’s any of your business, but I plan on grabbing coffee, not falling into bed with him.”

“What do you really want to talk about, Rafael?” Ellie’s tone snaps me out of my funk. “I need you.” The comment slips out before I have a chance to consider how it sounds. Fuck. Uncertainty flickers in her eyes. “You need me?” “Nico and I,” I amend. “If I thought things were bad between us before, nothing compares to the way he is now that you’re gone.” Her shield of bravado drops. “I’m sorry.” “Me too. For a few things actually.” “You are?” “Yeah. Your comment earlier got me thinking.” “What comment?” “About not valuing you or your time.” “Oh.” She doesn’t say anything else, so I take it as a sign to continue. “It made me realize that you’ve never complained about your job. Not even when I threw last-minute plans at you or acted like a dick when you didn’t deserve it.”

“Even though I was upset about the secret and Nico’s accident, I should have treated you better after everything you’ve done for my family. You helped bring my son back, and for that, you deserved far more than what I did… You deserved a second chance.” She blinks rapidly, although it doesn’t erase the mistiness in her eyes. “Thanks. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.” “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” She glances away and wipes at the corner of her eye. “Things aren’t the same without you,” I say earnestly. She turns to face me again. “He’s not the same,” I add.

“I’m willing to do anything to bring you back. A raise. An extra day off every week. Name it and it’s yours.” “My salary or PTO was never an issue, and you know it.” “Then what do you want?” “Something that was broken between us.” “What?” I ask. “Trust.” My shoulders tense. “I’m going to need time.” She exhales. “I’m not only talking about you.” I stare at her in confusion. Her eyes fall to the floor, as if looking me in the face proves too difficult of a task. “You made it clear that I’m disposable at a moment’s notice, and I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t let someone else make me feel that way again.” My teeth smash together. “I can’t go back and change the way I reacted.” “I know, and as much as I hate to admit it, you were right to fire me. If Nico’s accident proved anything, it’s that I’m grossly underqualified to be his nanny.” Her voice shakes. “That’s bullshit.”

“We went through seven nannies before you. All of them were beyond qualified for the job, yet none of them brought my kid back like you did.” Her chin wobbles. “I was doing my job.” “No. You were doing so much more than that.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to see Nico change back into the quiet boy who didn’t laugh, smile, or play music. God, it would destroy me to see him like that all over again. So I’m pleading—hell, I’m even willing to beg—if it convinces you to come back.”

“You don’t need to do that,” she says with a soft voice. “I’m desperate, Eleanor.” My voice is strained. She gives me a little shove, and I lose my footing, not because of her strength but because of the small laugh she lets out. “Desperate enough to stop calling me by my full name? Because although I love her, it reminds me of my grandmother.”

At first, I did it solely to annoy her, but then I found myself enjoying how flustered she got each time I called her by her given name. She always did this cute little eye roll⁠— Cute? Shit. Not cute. Funny. A funny eye roll. “Figures,” she mutters. “Well, this little chat was great and all…” “Okay. I’ll stop calling you Eleanor.” She rocks back on her sneakers. “I should say no…” “But you won’t because we need you.” “Fine. I’ll agree, but only if you repeat that again while begging on your knees.”

“Oh my God.” I lift my palm in the air. “Don’t⁠—” “You laughed!” Her smile cuts through the icy outer layer of my cold heart. I’ve spent months wondering what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of Ellie’s unbridled happiness, and it’s so much better than I expected.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh since high school.” She seems to speak to herself. The comment surprises me. “Keeping tabs on me since back then, huh?” Her cheeks turn pink. “No.” My body buzzes from the thought. “Are you sure about that?” “You know, not everyone at Wisteria High was obsessed with you.” Her cheeks morph from a rosy hue to crimson. “It’s okay if you had a crush on me.” According to Dahlia and Lily, most of the school did. “You weren’t my type.” “I was everyone’s type,” I tease, loving the way a flush spreads to her neck. “First, you laughed, and now you’re making jokes? Who are you and what have you done with the old Rafael?”

ELLIE

My boss opens the front door in expensive denim jeans that showcase his muscular thighs, a black T-shirt that is formfitting without being off-putting, and his coveted Richard Mille watch. The diamonds sparkle from the morning sun rising behind me, although I quickly become distracted by the veins running up his arm. Physically, Rafael is one of the most attractive people I know. Scratch that. He is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying a lot after spending years living in Los Angeles

I shake my head. “I see you ditched the lumberjack aesthetic.” “Are you sad about it?” “Marginally.” Although sad might not be the appropriate word. Worried for myself is more like it, although I’d never admit such a thing to him. He leans against the doorframe. “Is it because I won’t be chopping wood for the fireplaces anymore?” I choke on my next breath. “Why would that make me sad?” “Because I caught you staring through the window sometimes.”

“I don’t stare.” My defensive tone gives me away. “I thought it was more polite to say that rather than the truth.” “Which is?” “You drool.” “You’re delusional,” I say with a hiss. He shrugs without a single care in the world. “No need to be embarrassed. It’s cute to see the lengths you go to sneak a peek.”

“Pendejo.” I curse like I’ve heard him say countless times before. His brows rise. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” “That’s a bad word.” “I know.” I grin. His lips twitch as he rolls my luggage into the foyer. “Did you forget that I’m your boss?” “Huh. It must have slipped my mind once you started flirting with me.” I saunter inside, swaying my hips with a little sass. There is nothing more satisfying than seeing his cheeks stained pink. “I wasn’t flirting.” He doesn’t stumble over the words, which is impressive given the flustered look on his face. Now I’m the one smirking. “All right.” “I mean it.” “Sure.” “Keep talking and I’ll fire you again.” “No you won’t because you need me.”

“Hungry?” “Starving, actually.” “Hopefully the birthday boy is too because I made a lot of food.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Nervous?” I ask. He drops his hand. “Is it that obvious?” “No,” I lie. His eyes narrow. “Right.” “Everything will be fine.” “He’s been…tough.” “Well, he is your son after all.” He shoots me a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You’re a smart guy. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” “You think I’m smart?” “Don’t go fishing for compliments. It’s unattractive.” Frown lines cut across his forehead. “I was curious.” “About my opinion? Wow. You must be really desperate for company if you want that.”

With a parting glance, Rafael heads toward Nico’s room. I follow him through the hallway that leads to the bedrooms at the back of the house. Rafael stops in front of the comic book poster-covered door before stepping to the side to give me room. Not wanting to ruin Rafael’s birthday surprise, I remain quiet as I knock on the door. “Go away!” Nico shouts. “I don’t want dumb birthday pancakes this year.”

Rafael glares at the villainous Skotos, Erebus, and Eidolon posters taped to the door, his misery clinging to him like a second skin. If we go into the bedroom with him looking like this, Nico will probably shut down again, so it’s up to me to try to cheer him up. I fake-gasp before whispering, “No pancakes? This is worse than I thought.” Rafael doesn’t even so much as look in my direction. I grab his arm and pull him away from Nico’s door so he doesn’t overhear our conversation. “I know you said things were serious, but I wasn’t aware of just how bad things have gotten between you two. What’s next? No birthday cake?” “I’m glad you’re amused by all this.” Okay… Tough crowd. “What if I told you that I could make you look like a hero?” He scoffs. “Right.” “Are you doubting me?” “Not you.” “Then who?” “Me.” His cutting word slices through me, and I reach over and give his tense bicep a squeeze.

“Things will get better.” “How? It’s not like his condition is going to improve.” “No, but you both can face the unknown together. As a team.” Rafael’s scowl melts away. “We haven’t felt like one lately.” His words drill a hole through my chest. “That might be true, but it doesn’t mean you can’t become one again.” His long exhale fills the quiet. “Just trust me.”

“Ready?” He nods. I knock a second time. “I said to go away!” Nico shouts loud enough to be heard clearly through the door. “I could do that, but then you’d miss out on joining your dad and me for the best birthday pancakes in the whole wide world.” Rafael’s head swivels toward me. “I thought you hated pancakes.” “He doesn’t know that.” And frankly, I didn’t realize Rafael did since he usually makes them on Saturdays when I’m not here. “Ellie?” Nico’s squeal draws a smile from me. I open the door to find him rushing to put on his glasses. It has only been a week since I last saw him, but the days felt longer. Something clicks into place in my chest, as if a missing piece of my heart is being returned to its rightful spot. I never thought becoming Nico’s nanny would lead to a love so strong, but it did.

“Ellie!” Nico jumps off his bed and throws himself into my waiting arms. “You’re back!”

“Your dad apologized to me.” Nico’s arms slip from around my neck as he pulls away. “Really?” “Yup. He was sick to his stomach over letting me go. Told me that he couldn’t sleep at night knowing I wasn’t here with you both.” Rafael sends icy daggers in my direction. I bite back a shit-eating grin. “He couldn’t?” Nico asks. “He didn’t say anything to me.” “Yup. He begged me to come back.” “Does that mean you’re staying?” Nico’s guarded gaze slides from me to his father.

I push Nico’s glasses up the bridge of his nose to get his attention. “I’ll stay, but only if you want me to.” He wraps his arms around my neck and squeezes until every artery protests. “Of course I want you to!” “Oh, great.” I fake my relief. “I was worried you’d forgotten all about me already.” “Never, ever, ever!” “Are you sure? Because you probably liked not having to eat your fruits and vegetables.” His adorable, small nose scrunches. “Papi still made me.” “How dare he care about your health,” I say with feigned outrage.

“You’re not allowed to leave again. You got it?” “Never? What if you get sick of me?” “No. Never. Right, Papi?” Nico hesitantly looks over at his dad. I’m paralyzed when Rafael locks eyes with me. “No te preocupes, mijo.1 If she runs, I’ll bring her back for you.”

Don’t worry son