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Man of the House(22)

By:B. B. Hamel


“Jesus,” she said, shaking her head. “It looked so real.”

“Thank you,” I answered, grinning.

“That does make me feel better, though. But it begs a bunch of other questions.”

“Like who did this?”

“And why.”

I nodded. “We’re working on it.”

“They knew where you were, Carter. They left that head there for you to find.”

“I know.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t expect me to be around.”

“Probably not.”

“But that means someone is watching. Someone very close.”

“Also true.” I frowned, not liking where she was going with this, but it was a place I had already gone myself.

“All of that means we need to stay away from each other.”

I didn’t answer, just looked at her. She was so gorgeous and earnest, and I hated the idea that some asshole could push me away from having her.

“No more kissing,” she continued. “No more pranks. No more pictures or roses or lingerie. No more coming to the rescue. You’re married to my mother and that’s all there is between us.”

“That’s not all between us.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly. “If we get caught? It would destroy everything.”

“I know,” I said softly. She was absolutely right, but I hated it. “If that’s what you want.”

She nodded, her face drawn and serious. “It is.”

“Okay then. I can’t argue.”

She looked away, down at her feet, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. It was obvious that this wasn’t what she wanted, but we both knew this thing between us was fucked up and dangerous. I was technically her stepfather, for starters, and the media would go ape-shit over that if it ever came out. My position within the company and with the media was tenuous at best at the moment, and I couldn’t afford any screw-ups.

More than that, she was just a normal person who got thrust into this situation. She was young and had her whole life ahead of her. She didn’t deserve to have some scandal fuck shit up for her already.

I sighed and walked over to her kitchen cabinets. It took me a minute, but I found a bottle of whisky. I poured myself a drink, knocked it back, and placed the glass down on the countertop.

“Listen,” I said after a minute. “There’s this charity event thing coming up. You should come.”

She looked up at me. “What kind of event?”

“Fancy,” I said. “I’m going with your mother, but it would look good if you showed up as well. Try and pretend like we’re a family or some shit.”

She nodded. “Okay, sure.”

“Good. I’ll let your mom know.”

She nodded again but didn’t answer. Her wide gorgeous eyes were so fucking sexy, and the last thing I wanted to do was leave. I poured another drink, knocked it back, and then grinned at her.

“I’ve had worse dates, you know,” I said.

She cracked a small smile. “Really? I pretended that I had to use the bathroom to get away from you and then I found a severed dog’s head in the hallway. You’ve had worse?”

“Sure,” I admitted. “One time my date stole my wallet and bought a boat on my card.”

“No way.”

“True story. That one never made it to the media.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “A whole boat?”

“A whole boat. It was actually pretty nice so I kept it.”

“You’re crazy.”

I grinned at her then nodded. “See you later, stepdaughter.”

She sighed, but the smile didn’t leave her face. I turned and left her apartment, feeling a weird chasm in my stomach.

We had to back off. She knew it and I knew it, and this whole thing just made it that much clearer.

Still, I fucking wanted her, and no amount of robot dog heads would change that fact.





13





Emily





I felt uncomfortable as hell in my tight black dress with a low cut down the back, but that didn’t seem to matter. Frankly, nothing seemed to matter to Mom and Carter so long as they smiled nice, held hands, and played it up for the cameras.

The charity gala was held in some expensive hotel in downtown San Francisco. The people were mainly old, white and rich as all hell, and some of the women were wearing jewelry that were probably worth more than my college education. When we arrived, Mom and Carter were mobbed by reporters and well-wishers, and I was basically an afterthought.

Normally, I would have been fine with that. I didn’t want to go on camera talking about my mom’s fake marriage to some age-inappropriate rich tech billionaire, especially considering all I wanted to do was fuck that rich billionaire. I didn’t want to pretend like everything was okay when clearly everything was so far from okay.