Bad Boy’s Baby(53)
I hesitated. “So…you want to live here for a few months. Then what?”
“Then you can buy out my share.”
“Buy?”
“That’s how these inheritance things work. You buy me out for a price that won’t look like we’re evading taxes, and we’ll be done. Then you can have this big beautiful house all to yourself.”
I crossed my arms. “And you want to live here while we figure all the details out.”
“Yep.”
“You don’t see how crazy that is. I’m not sharing anything with you. I don’t even know you! And this isn’t your house!”
Zach’s smile returned. He grabbed an apple from a basket and pointed over his shoulder.
“I’ll be downstairs in the gym working out. Then I’ll test the theater system with a movie. You’re welcome to join me. Take some time to mull it over. Let me know what you think.”
Easy. “I’m not sharing this house with you!”
He sunk his teeth into the apple and waved as he headed downstairs.
To the gym.
And then to the theater.
We had a theater?
No. I had a theater. And he thought he could steal it away until I paid him off to return what was rightfully mine?
Hell no.
Zach Harden wasn’t getting away with this.
He wasn’t getting a dime of my money, a single restful night’s sleep in my house, or another side-long glance from me.
From that moment on, I declared war.
Except it wasn’t a good idea to fight dirty with a SEAL. And I didn’t trust myself to confront Zach again, not when everything inside me clenched hard and tight when I imagined him straining those muscles while lifting the weights.
Nope.
We couldn’t live together.
I refused to bunk with the most desirable, infuriating, and despicable man I had ever met. My apartment near campus would be fine until we sorted the mess out. I’d go there, call William, and straighten the whole thing out.
Immediately.
Well, maybe tomorrow.
My apartment didn’t have air-conditioning.
…And this mansion had a theater system.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to spend one night here even if Zach were around. Besides, how else would I keep track of the devil if he loitered under my roof?
I headed outside to explore the grounds, though I took a detour through one of the two wine cellars and grabbed something white, bubbly, and fruity. Dad had taste at least, but I’d need something much stronger to combat Zach Harden.
That fiend was never taking advantage of me again. And he’d be lucky if I let him camp in the corner of the property with a hole to sleep in, a can of soup to eat, and only the memory of me and what he lost to keep him warm.
No one made me a fool.
And Zach would learn that lesson.
Chapter Six – Shay
My father had more assets than I thought.
I knew he was wealthy, but now I saw the bank statements and investment reports and property listings. Dad was lucky the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future hadn’t paid him a visit.
While Momma stewed in her declared independence and clipped coupons, Dad sailed away from his responsibilities on a yacht.
A yacht that also belonged to Zach.
He could take the part under the water.
My phone buzzed. Azariah was the last one I wanted to talk to. She expected a play-by-play of the magic night I told her about. My father’s funeral wasn’t the place or time to discuss my sex life, especially around family who might be less than enthusiastic with my wild oats being of the…paler variety.
But at lot changed between my night with Zach and now. Azariah was the type to lend a sympathetic ear only until she thought she could live your life better.
At this point, she probably could. I answered the call anyway.
“How’s my favorite millionaire?” Azariah tapped on her keyboard. Calling from work. Always the multi-tasker. “Hanging in there?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said. “There’s more money than we thought.”
“More?” She screeched and tisked her tongue at someone who must have passed her desk. She scolded him and then returned to me. “You, mind your business. Shay, I’m listening. How many more zeros are we talking?”
“Three?”
“Damn.”
“Look, it’s really complicated. I’m kinda in the middle of a giant freaking mess, and it’s only getting worse because I can’t fix much of it until I get the trust fund.”
“That sucks. You have all the money in the world, and you can’t touch it.”
“Momma fought tooth, nail, and weave to make sure of it.”
“I loved Kaydon to death, but I never understood her.”
I scattered the investment reports on my desk. “She wanted me to learn independence. At least I had my car and school paid for.”
“Lucky.”
I knew it too. That didn’t help the guilt. Because of Dad’s money, I could do whatever I wanted in life. Which was good. I studied to be a teacher, and they weren’t necessarily known for their stellar paychecks. But the salary hadn’t mattered. My goal was to find a job somewhere, anywhere, and I’d teach kids more than letters and numbers. I’d make sure they never felt alone.
Ever.
But my textbooks were pushed onto the floor to make room for more boxes, and my student teaching schedule pinned over my desk. Moving to the mansion meant a long commute. Could I give that up just to stay close to my school? Hard choice. Until I made it, the books remained on the floor, and my apartment existed in a state of mess, half-way packed.
“So…?” Azariah clicked a pen. She’d probably draw some fantastic picture by the end of her shift. She hated the gig at the sales office, but it gave her time to sketch. I planned to buy her first piece of art for a ridiculous price to generate buzz for her name. It’d work, if she’d find the courage to push it into the world. “Tell me about the guy you met.”
“It’s…complicated.”
“Is there anything about you that isn’t complicated anymore?” She snorted. “You have all the money in the world. Cars, houses, mansions, and you got laid. You’re living the dream.”
Not quite. I sucked in a breath. “My father married Emily before they died.”
“Who? His girlfriend?” Azariah breathed into the phone. “No.”
“She had a son. And he…” I banished the memory of his lips pressing into my neck. “Made it into the will.”
“No way!” Azariah whooped. “Girl, this is some Lifetime movie shit.”
“It gets worse.”
Azariah hushed me for a second before muffling the phone and announcing to anyone listening in the office. “I’m going on break, ya’ll! Keep talking, girl. Who is this son?”
“I already met him.”
Silence. She waited, not making it easy on me.
“He and I…met.”
“Oh.” She figured it out. “Oh, Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“You…and your step-brother?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, honey. This is beyond Lifetime. This belongs on Maury Povich.”
“It’s horrible,” I said.
“Did you know it was him?”
“Of course not!” Give me some credit. “But I have a lot to figure out.”
“But…” Azariah hummed. “Was he any good?”
I tossed a suitcase onto the bed, but nothing from my drawers made it in. “He’s my step-brother!”
“Well…I mean…he’s not blood.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“People do fucked up shit all the time. You’re rich. You can get away with it.”
I sighed. “Not this.”
“All those kings and queens in Europe used to do it.”
“I’m not a queen!”
“Didn’t Woody Allen marry his adopted daughter?”
“Gross.”
She snickered. “Maybe you’ve been watching too much Game of Thrones.”
“It’s not funny! This is a problem! I have to deal with this guy, okay?”
“It’s a little funny.”
I didn’t need her attitude. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Sorry.” She let it pass, but I knew her too well. She wasn’t done. She circled the pack, looking for somewhere weak to sink her teeth. “But you know this wouldn’t have happened if you had just talked with your dad.”
I packed all of my underwear into the suitcase. I had more than I thought. Now the latches wouldn’t close. Fantastic.
“He left us,” I said. “We had nothing to discuss. Don’t make me feel guilty. I’m on a hair trigger.”
“He was trying to start a relationship. The car and school and gifts. He extended an olive branch.”
And I broke that twig over my knee and cast it into a fire. “I know. But it doesn’t change anything. He made his choice. Hell, he even started a new family.”
“It really is sad.”
And now I had more guilt. “I gotta get packing. I’m heading up to the—” I didn’t want to say mansion. “—House.”
“When can I see it?”
It was probably visible if she squinted and looked at the horizon. “Whenever you like.”
“You’ll need to have a big graduation party there, Shay. Something to celebrate your trust.”