“Here.” I placed the papers on the table as I reclaimed my seat. “This is everything my sister kept on Jamie. I gave copies of these to my lawyer for custody purposes. Nowhere does it list you as a father.”
“It wouldn’t,” he said without looking at the file. “Because Jean and I agreed to keep my involvement a secret. The original birth certificate, the one Garrett showed you today, is the official copy, while your sister maintained a secondary one drawn up in accordance with our agreement.”
He flipped open the folder and found the document in question. “This was to be used for identity purposes until his eighteenth birthday. That’s what we decided.”
I gaped at him. “Why?”
“Why?” Jamie asked, hearing my raised voice and repeating the word. “Why, why, why?” he sing-songed, using the tune from his cartoon movie.
“I told your aunt she can’t have any more wine,” Wyatt replied without missing a beat. “She’s not taking it well.”
“Ohhhhhh, Auntie A, no more wine for Auntie A.” Jamie waggled his finger in an interpretation of me scolding him. “No, no, no.”
“Cute kid,” Wyatt murmured, amused.
“Go back to your movie.” I didn’t share the amusement—even though Jamie giggled—but thankfully, he listened. I gave it a minute before I shifted my attention to the still-smirking man across from me. “Why would you both decide that?”
His grin settled into a flat line. “You act as though you have no idea.”
“Because I don’t, genius. Or did you miss the part about my having no idea you were the father until today?”
His pupils flared as he held my gaze. “I almost believe you, sweetheart. But you’re related to Jean, and I know all too well how gifted she was at lying to me.”
My brow furrowed. “I… I don’t know how to reply to that.”
He grinned. “Impressive indeed.” He stood and stretched his arms over his head, revealing a sliver of tan skin beneath his shirt. Definitely pure muscle. Not that I was looking. “My ride is here, but we’ll pick this up in the morning.”
His ride? “You’re leaving?”
Two dimples peeked at me as his grin morphed into a smile. “Asking me to stay the night? Now you’re acting like Jean.”
“That’s not what I meant.” My cheeks burned with the insinuation in his tone and doubled with annoyance at the knowing gleam in his eyes as I stood. “I didn’t know what to expect after you demanded to see Jamie today and then invited yourself over for dinner. It wasn’t a stretch to assume you’d claim the guest room, too.” Which was also Jean’s old room.
He stepped around the table and entered my personal space, but I refused to back down. His six-foot-plus height didn’t intimidate me. Neither did that devious twinkle in his irises. Or the half grin gracing his full lips. Or the scent of leather and man that seemed to surround me as he moved even closer. Or the way his pupils dilated as they dropped to my mouth.
My pulse skipped a beat because Jamie sat so close by. It had nothing at all to do with this man or the solid body bumping up against my folded arms.
“I think we both know I’d be staying in your room, Avery,” Wyatt murmured, his mouth scant inches from mine. “But feel free to deny it all you want. It’ll only intrigue me more.” Those last words were a breath against my cheek, seconds before he pressed a warm kiss to my too-hot skin.
The wine sent my hormones into a tizzy while my sanity searched for reason.
I’m not attracted to him.
Liar.
Butterflies danced in my lower belly as he pulled back just enough to check my expression. Whatever he saw there caused his dimples to appear again.
“Mmm. That’s what I thought,” he murmured. “See you in the morning, Miss Perry.”
Electricity hummed through my veins, disengaging my ability to form a proper comeback.
Nothing coherent formed in my mind. Just a bunch of gibberish about his masculine scent, how much I disliked him, and what it would be like to kiss him. Because a man like Wyatt Mershano would know how to handle a woman… and well.
Wrong.
But so right.
5
Avery
Wyatt left me confused and cold beside the table as he pulled on his jacket. “Oh, and don’t worry about bringing Jamie with you. No need to disrupt his schedule.” He winked before loudly adding, “It was good to meet you, Jamie.”
“Rebel friend leaving?” Jamie asked, hopping up on the chair in a manner he knew was forbidden.
“Yep, but I’ll be back soon. Maybe tomorrow.”
My chest ached at the blossoming smile on Jamie’s face. “To play?”
“Sure,” Wyatt replied. “Whatever you want.”
“Race cars?” Jamie sounded so hopeful I wanted to cry. Despite Wyatt’s silent act through dinner, Jamie had taken to him, almost as if he sensed their bond.
Wyatt’s eyes crinkled at the sides as a sense of awe infiltrated his features. “I loved race cars growing up and still do. You’re on, little man.”
“Yesss!” Jamie did a little jig that only broadened the joy radiating from Wyatt and further cracked my heart.
The physical similarities between them were uncanny. And although they’d just met, there seemed to be a mutual understanding between them I couldn’t define.
This can’t be happening.
But it is…
God, I would never want to take both parents from Jamie, but I promised to protect him. And I had no way of knowing whether or not Wyatt was a suitable role model or father figure. The way he looked at him now felt right, but he was a virtual stranger to us both.
I’d have to research him.
Scour the internet for anything and everything I could find. Tonight. Because we were meeting again in the morning.
Surely there had to be some information available about him as a member of the Mershano family, right? Some of those hotel heirs were practically celebrities. Maybe he had a following as well that I could read about, some news articles, anything to give me more insight into him.
Aside from the obvious womanizing tendencies, sexy grins, and heated glances.
“Good night, Avery.” He started toward my foyer—unescorted. Manners forced me to follow. Jamie had settled back into his movie, easily distracted by his favorite song playing.
“What should I expect tomorrow?” I asked, unable to help myself.
Wyatt paused at the door to glance over his shoulder at me. “An ultimatum, I imagine. Garrett doesn’t care much for Atlanta, and he’ll be wanting to return to Texas.”
“An ultimatum that says…?” It hurt to ask, hurt to show any vulnerability, but my heart couldn’t remain quiet. “I’ve spent the last four years raising him, Wyatt, and I’ve done the best job that I could, given the circumstances. If you’re going to shatter my world and take him away from me, I deserve to know.”
“Do you?” He tilted his head to the side. “And if I said yes, that I plan to take him with me, what would you do?”
A punch to the abdomen would have hurt less than those casual words, spoken in such a nonchalant way, as if musing about my pending destruction. The tears rushing my eyes refused to obey my commands to leave, and the lump forming in my throat clogged my ability to respond. I pressed a palm to my stomach and tried to force the emotions back under control, but the room spun around me.
His callous confirmation of what tomorrow held…
God.
How would I tell Jamie?
How would I explain it?
And where would Wyatt take him?
“Will I be able to see him?” The words sounded loud in my ears, but I knew they’d come out softly. Probably incoherently as well. I wanted desperately to try again, to utter them clearly, but I couldn’t focus enough to speak.
Jean’s death had hurt. I’d mourned her, hated her, and missed her.
But Jamie…
My knees wobbled with the effort to remain standing, and I to
uched the wall for support. It felt hotter than it should, probably because my body had gone cold.
I closed my water-filled eyes and strove for reason. He’d confirmed my fears, just as I asked. But I hated him for it. For being here and for threatening my world and my purpose for being.
“Four years,” I mumbled. “You didn’t care. Why now? What did I ever do to you?”
I needed to lie down before I fell. But my legs refused to move, and the wall seemed to be holding me upright. It’d grown arms…
“Auntie A?” Jamie’s concerned voice pierced the dark clouds hovering over me, and my body performed on autopilot.
“Yeah, Jamie?” I turned to find him standing in the hallway with a little frown that blurred in my vision.
“Auntie A is sad?” He looked over my shoulder. “What’d you do?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the wall behind me spoke over me.
“I said something mean,” Wyatt replied, surprising me. “I accidentally hurt your aunt’s feelings.”
“Bad, rebel friend,” Jamie chastised, his voice far too stern for a four-year-old. “Say you’re sorry.”
Any other moment, I may have laughed at hearing him parrot my own words at someone else. But my heart ached too much to allow humor.
I’ll miss you so much…
“I’m sorry, Avery.” Wyatt sounded so contrite that I was almost impressed. But I knew he didn’t mean it. “Can I have an adult minute with your aunt, Jamie? I promise I won’t say anything else mean to her.”
Jamie’s lips pinched to the side. “Promise? What’s that?”
“A promise happens when you tell someone you’re going to do something, and then you do it, no matter what.” Wyatt’s definition shocked me almost as much as the hands he placed on my hips to hold me in front of him. “So I promise you that I won’t say anything else mean to her.”
Jamie’s brow crinkled as he looked between us. “No more sad?”
“No more sad,” Wyatt said, speaking for me again.
Jamie nodded. “Okay. No more sad.” He skipped back to the living area, leaving me alone with my heart in my throat.
The hands on my waist forced me to turn. I was too tired to resist and too emotionally done to fight.
“Sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t as prepared as I thought. I’ll…” I coughed to dislodge the raspy quality from my voice. “I’ll try to pack some of his things after he goes…” I closed my eyes, unable to finish.
Had it only been a few hours since the meeting with our lawyers? It felt like a lifetime ago. Tomorrow, everything would change. Again.
And according to my lawyer, there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Unless I could prove Wyatt to be an unfit father. Given his financial resources, family name, and the brief interactions I’d observed between him and Jamie, that would be close to impossible.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he murmured, one of his palms sliding to my lower back. “Actually, that’s a lie. I wanted to see how you’d react. And either you’re an amazing actress or I really fucked that up.”
I glowered up at him. “Actress? You think all of this is an act?” My voice finally rose above a whisper toward the end, but it still held a raspy quality to it that I loathed. It left me feeling and sounding far weaker than I’d ever been, and I hated him for it. “Is this all a game to you?”
“I prefer the term test, but we can call it a game, if you like that more.” He held me in place as I tried futilely to shove him away. “Don’t make me break my promise to Jamie, Avery. I told him I wouldn’t say anything mean.”
“Too late,” I growled as I squirmed in his grip.
“The truth may be cruel, but it’s not intentionally mean.” He wrapped both arms around my back and used his strength against me. “Listen to me. Jamie’s not going anywhere until I can figure all this out, okay? I don’t want to trust you any more than you want to trust me, but the circumstances require it. For Jamie.”
I stopped moving and replayed his words in my head. “You’re not taking him tomorrow?”
“Not unless you give me a great reason to,” he replied. “And so far, you’ve given me every reason to trust his care in your custody.” His grip loosened slightly as he sighed. “Look, it’s been a long day for us both. Just try to get some sleep, and we’ll continue our conversation in the morning, okay?”
His eyes almost appeared remorseful as he studied me, but I couldn’t allow myself to believe it. Because then I would start to hope, and that was the most dangerous emotion of all. It would be so easy for him to placate me with words tonight, just to take Jamie tomorrow. Especially now that I knew he could whenever he liked.
I don’t want to trust you any more than you want to trust me, but the circumstances require it. For Jamie.
I couldn’t refute that logic.
Everything I did was for Jamie.
“Avery, I can’t leave until I know you’re… okay.” The conflict in his tone confused me.
“Why would you care?” It seemed contrary to everything he’d done and said today. Why would he suddenly be concerned with my well-being? He clearly hadn’t cared earlier, or even five minutes ago.
“It’s complicated,” he replied and pressed his lips to my temple. “For what it’s worth, I meant my apology. I am sorry.”
My lungs burned with the need to breathe—apparently, I’d stopped when his mouth met my skin. Or maybe even before that.
This tender side of him bewildered me. How had he gone from jackass to almost sweet in the span of a few minutes? It had to be a trick, but I didn’t know why he bothered.
Another game? Or a “test,” as he called it?
How did I pass?
“Are you okay?” he asked as he pulled back to study my face.
No. “I’ll be fine.” Also true. I always found a way to survive.
“Then we’ll talk more in the morning. I think we both have a lot to learn about each other.” He brushed his lips over my forehead and stepped back. “Good night.”
I tried to respond, but my voice failed me. Again. Yet, rather than smirk at me as he seemed to enjoy doing, he just nodded. And quietly left.
A blonde woman met him in the driveway, her tight dress showcasing her curves and long legs. She twirled something in the air that he took from her, followed by a kiss against her cheek before he slid into the driver’s seat. It all unfolded like a movie through the window, including the part where she settled into the passenger side of the sporty two-seater.
What insane world did Wyatt Mershano live in where a girlfriend waited outside another woman’s house, for God only knew how long, to merely come out without much of a hello and take control of the car?
And would that sort of behavior change when he took Jamie? Or would it continue?
I had been on exactly five dates in the last four years. Raising a child required a certain amount of responsibility and planning.
Why not hire a nanny? he had asked earlier.
Was that what he would do? Hire a nanny while he took blondes out on dates in expensive cars?
I frowned. Not on my watch.
Wyatt Mershano wanted to play a game with me? Fine. But I’d win. Because I had no other choice.
6
Wyatt
“He’s a womanizer!” Avery’s proclamation slapped me across the face as I paused on the threshold of the conference room.
Both she and her lawyer were facing away from the door, engaged in some sort of a heated debate.
I had no doubt it was about me.
I rested my hip against the metal jamb, folded my arms, and settled in for the show.
“That’s hardly cause for calling him an unfit parent.” Her lawyer sounded exasperated, indicating they’d been at this for at least a few minutes. Maybe longer. “He’s a billionaire, Avery. And yes, he has a bit of a reputation—”
“A bit?” she repeated. “A bit?! Are you kidding? Google his name. He’s all over the tabloid
s, Scott. And not in a good way.”
“I’m well aware of his, uh, aptitude for partying, but no judge is going to care when he proves he’s more than capable of providing adequate care for his son. Most celebrities have personal caretakers for their children, and my guess is, he’ll follow suit.”
“Okay, what about the fact that he hasn’t bothered to financially care for his kid these last four years? I mean, that has to qualify for something. He was too busy getting drunk and partying with hookers to properly care for his own child. Who’s to say he won’t repeat that behavior? Scott, I saw him get picked up by an escort last night at my house. What if Jamie had seen him?”
My frown deepened with every word. There were so many misunderstandings in that rant that I didn’t even know where to start.
Drunk? I hadn’t touched alcohol since the day after Jean had told me about Jamie.
Hookers? Fuck no.
Escort? Esther would love that and probably kick my ass for not immediately correcting it.
But it was Avery’s comment about the finances that floored me most. She had no reason to lie to her lawyer about what she knew, which implied she truly had no idea I’d contributed to Jamie’s well-being.
How was that even possible?
“You should know better than to believe the gossip columns, Avery,” her lawyer muttered. “Photos can be manipulated, and all celebrities are subject to rumors—most of which are untrue.”
“Some of those photos have to be real,” she replied. “And what I saw last night was very real.”
“A woman picking him up in a sports car—something that is likely part of a service he requested for transportation.”
“Or something else,” she pointed out.
“You think I need to hire someone for sex?” I couldn’t help it. I had to comment. “Would you like a preview of how inaccurate that assessment is? Because your lawyer’s receptionist has been eye-fucking me since I walked into the building yesterday.”
The Rebel’s Redemption: Mershano Empire Series Page 4
