He shaved the scruff from his face, trying to ignore the memories pounding against his skull.
Trip’s father sat on the edge of Trip’s bed, waiting for him to stop crying. His mother had been gone only a month, but it had felt like a year. He missed her. He missed his old room, his old neighborhood and school, his old friends, too.
“Now, son. I know this is hard. Losing your mom so young will leave a hole in your heart for the rest of your life. But now you’ve got a dad. And I’ve got a chance to help you become a man. And part of becoming a man is learning how to face a setback.”
But Trip didn’t want to be a man. He didn’t want to listen to lectures from this virtual stranger, however well-intentioned. “When’s Poppy coming to take me for a sleepover?” The remaining bright spot in his life involved his visits with the man who’d been the real father figure in his life, his namesake, and the man he had always admired.
“He’ll be here soon.” Trip’s dad sighed, then laid a hand on Trip’s leg. “Since you brought him up, I wanted to ask you something. Now that I’ve adopted you, I was wondering if you might like to change your last name to mine. What do you think?”
Trip’s body curled away from his father’s touch. “No!” When he noticed his father’s defeated expression, he softly added, “Sorry.”
Even now Trip winced at the recollection. That exchange had kicked off a pattern of his dad reaching out and Trip pulling back, never quite able to accept the love and attention as genuine. The circumstances surrounding his adoption, and Mason and Deb’s nasty barbs, had always left Trip feeling like an outsider, a runner-up, a mistake his dad had to “be a man” and handle.
Maybe he’d never given his dad a fair shot. Maybe the time had finally come to try to accept the fact that they shared DNA, among other things. Maybe this visit would be the one to change the tide of their relationship.
Trip sat in the lobby of the hotel where Wade was staying, his stomach growling. A few weeks ago he’d sat here with Grey and Wade, hammering out a deal for access over part of Wade’s planned development. Now he was sitting here with his dad and Wade, which kind of blew his mind.
He studied his father, tuning out his dad and Wade’s conversation for the third time in thirty minutes. The gray hairs at his father’s temples had spread throughout his dark hair, giving him that distinguished “salt-and-pepper” look. At sixty-five, Ross Cutler looked younger than his years. Perhaps Trip would age well, too. They shared some features, like olive-colored skin, dark hair, a square jaw. But Trip’s green eyes came from his mother’s family, as did his height.
He knew his dad and Mason had always hated being five inches shorter than him, although for different reasons. Trip suspected his dad disliked the height difference because it came from Poppy, serving as a reminder of the whole gulf between Trip and his dad.
As for Mason, Trip’s size and athleticism has only further divided him from his more bookish brother, especially because their dad had openly admired Trip’s physical prowess. The nail in the coffin had come when Trip had been only thirteen and happened upon Mason, then a high school junior, being bullied. Thinking he might salvage some relationship with Mason, he’d jumped into the fray and taken down the two bullies within minutes. Mason, however, only grew more hateful after that incident. Whether that was from jealousy or humiliation, Trip was never sure.
He was chewing on that thought when his dad’s deep chuckle snapped him back to the present.
“Thanks for coming here to discuss the project in person, Ross. I’ll be making a final decision very soon.” Wade smiled. “If things don’t work out, perhaps we’ll get another opportunity in the near future with another tract of local land I’ve got my eye on. Apparently the owner recently died and his heirs might be interested in selling, so my timing is perfect.”
Trip jerked his gaze toward Wade. “What land?”
“Eight acres at the northwest corner of town.”
“For what purpose?” Trip heard the bitter edge in his voice, but Wade appeared indifferent.
“Upscale retail and office space.”
Disgust gripped every muscle in Trip’s body, but he shook it off when his father shot him a stern look. Now wasn’t the time to raise objections, but Trip would not stand idly aside and let Wade Kessler or anyone else destroy Sterling Canyon’s charm. First he’d get informed, then he’d form a plan—mobilize others who were sure to see things his way and try to convince the heirs not to sell.