Last on the List (Wait With Me #5)(21)

The sun is just beginning to set as a couple of girls who look to be Everly’s age splash around with her in the water. The scent of grilled meat seeps into my cottage, making my stomach growl.

Ugh, this is stupid.

Why do I want to be out there? Because I think Max is fucking gorgeous and I couldn’t stop noticing how he kept looking at my legs in his car on our way back from the ropes course yesterday? Because I loved the way he smiled at Everly instead of the camera every time I took their photo? Because seeing him in a suit is sinfully hot but seeing him in jeans and a gray T-shirt with sweat marks from his harness is the stuff wet dreams are made of?

Ugh. No. I’m disgusting.

I pull out my phone.

Me: You have to take me out next weekend.

Dakota: Twist my arm, why don’t you. What’s going on?

Me: I can’t have a workaholic millionaire having more of a life than me.

Dakota: What’s Zaddy doing exactly?

Me: He’s having a pool party.

Dakota: And you weren’t invited?

Me: Not really…I mean, kind of? But I could tell he didn’t want me to come.

Dakota: Why do you say that?

Me: ’Cuz I’m the nanny and it was like a courtesy invite. I hate that I’m here right now. I look pathetic. Let’s dress up and go out next weekend. Make it look like I actually have a life.

Dakota: Your wish is my command.

Me: I need to find a guy to distract me from the Zaddy.

Dakota: I knew him working from home this week was going to be a recipe for disaster.

Me: You have no idea. I’ll tell you everything over drinks.

Dakota: I can’t wait. I’ll see what’s going on in town. Stay tuned.

A knock on my door has me sitting up in my bed with wide eyes. I glance down from the loft and see a mane of red hair standing outside my door.

“Oh, God,” I mumble nervously, lumbering my big ass down the giant ladder to see who’s knocking on my door. If I had to guess, the grown-ups want to get drunk, and they are hoping to pay someone sober to watch the children. I hate being a grown-up nanny. It suddenly feels very pathetic.

Begrudgingly, I open the door, and my lips part in shock at the person standing there. “Mercedes Lee Loveletter?” I glance down at the baby strapped to her chest, my brain not quite computing the combination of my favorite erotic romance novelist standing before me…with a baby.

Her lips part into a stunning smile. “Oh, my God, do you read my books?”

“I…I…” My voice gets caught in my throat. “I do. And I follow you on Instagram. So…yeah…I swear I’m not a stalker.”

“I love stalkers!” She laughs and takes a step inside. “Mind if I come in?”

“Sure.” I stand back and watch Mercedes walk around my tiny house, feeling like I must be in the middle of a fever dream because there’s no way the woman whose books I’ve been reading for the past six months is standing in my place of residence right now.

“Typical Max…can’t even make a tiny house look basic.” She walks down to the bathroom. “Oh, my God, even the bathroom is sexy!” She re-emerges and pats her baby’s back. “This is a sweet pad.”

“Yeah, it’s really nice,” I offer, my mouth feeling dry. “The bedroom is up that ladder.”

“Cool.” She nods thoughtfully. “What was your name?”

“Cozy,” I reply quickly.

“Like warm and cozy?” Mercedes asks.

I nod and smile like an idiot.

“Totally putting that adorable name in a book,” she deadpans.

“Will you really?” I respond breathily. My fangirl hysteria is raging at full force.

“Oh, yeah.” She nods thoughtfully again. “My real name is boring old Kate. Mercedes is my pen name just so I could feel fancy.”

“That’s neat.” Oh my God, Mercedes Lee Loveletter just told me her real name. I feel so fucking cool right now.

“Come up and have a drink with us.”

She makes her way out of my cottage, and I pause, shocked that Max is friends with an author. He seems too uptight to have a friend as cool as Mercedes Lee Loveletter.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” I offer weakly from the doorway as I glance up to see everyone staring down at us like we’re a couple of zoo animals.

“You’re not interrupting. You’re invited. Formally…by a New York Times Bestselling author. Are you really going to say no to having a drink with a bestselling author?”

I lick my lips thoughtfully. “No…but can I be real lame and ask you to sign my books first?”

“You have my freaking paperbacks in there? Oh, my God, yes. I’ll sign the shit out of them. Whip ’em out!”

Mercedes, I mean…Kate, signs my books, and we snap a quick selfie in my tiny house before she leads me up to the deck where the party is going on. Everly waves at me from the pool, making me feel welcome, but the look on Max’s face has me struggling to walk.

He looks…uncomfortable.





My eyes are locked on Cassandra as she sits with all the ladies and talks animatedly. They erupt into laughter, and from the way she’s gesticulating, I can guess she’s telling stories about the ropes course. Or maybe her near-drowning experience? Hell, a lot has happened in a week, so she’s probably not short on content.