You moved yourself into her house uninvited.
Not to be an overbearing dick but to help foster the transition for Jamie and to learn more about Avery. The last thing I wanted to do was rip my son away from a woman who truly cared about him.
Which was exactly how I fell into Jean’s trap.
I’m making all the same mistakes, just in a different way.
I blew out another breath and stood. Avery might be harmless. Hell, she could even be a victim in all of this, but until I had more information, I couldn’t offer her an ounce of sympathy.
If I found out any of this was a ruse, Jamie would be on the first flight out of Atlanta with me by his side. Because no way in hell would I allow this game to continue. Even if it meant breaking his heart.
He would heal.
And he’d forget all about her over time.
I’d make sure of it.
9
Avery
By the time I returned to the kitchen last night, Wyatt had already cleaned up all the dishes and disappeared to his room.
The coward in me refused to go after him to apologize or ask additional questions.
That same coward kept me in my home office when I heard him venture into the kitchen for breakfast and again for lunch. It helped that I had two days’ worth of work to make up for today and back-to-back conference calls. Wyatt stayed out of my way until just after three when he softly knocked on the already open glass door.
I silenced my phone and forced myself to meet his gaze. “Yeah?”
“Do you need me to pick up Jamie?”
I shook my head. “They won’t allow it. I’ll need to introduce you to everyone so they know you have permission to pick him up.”
His brow furrowed. “What last name did you give him?”
“The one on his birth certificate. Perry.” Even as I said it, I realized the issue. “My version of the certificate has him listed as Jamie Perry.”
“I see.” He turned and left without another word. I would have trailed after him, but I had to wrap up my call first.
Once I finished, I stood and found him sprawled out on the couch with a remote in his hand.
“I’m upgrading your cable to satellite” was all he said.
“Uh, okay. Why?”
“That you even have to ask says so much.” He turned off the television and hopped to his feet. “Time to pick up Jamie?”
“Yes. Do you want to come with me?”
“Yes.”
“Let me grab my purse, and we’ll go.”
Wyatt had purchased a new SUV, but he didn’t know the location of the preschool. Or maybe he did. But I wanted to drive. His expensive ride could be used another day.
He met me by the garage door, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and shades in place. If “bad boy” had a look, Wyatt Mershano embodied it all the way down to the cocky smile gracing his full lips.
Sexy.
Unattainable.
Bad news.
He opened the door with an after you gesture and followed me into the garage.
“I’ll have to clear out some space for your car,” I realized, eyeing the gardening tool mess.
“I can work on it tonight or tomorrow, if you’re okay with me rearranging a few things.”
I stared at him over the hood of my SUV. “You want to organize my garage?”
He shrugged. “My new Porsche Cayenne would appreciate the shelter.” He opened the door and slid into the passenger seat while I settled into the driver’s side. “What all did you tell Jamie about my staying with you?”
“I told him you needed a place to stay and would be living with us for a while.” I reversed out of the garage carefully. His sexy black SUV looked too expensive for me to risk hitting in the driveway.
“He didn’t ask questions?”
“He’s four.” And very inquisitive. “He wanted to know why, if you were bringing toys, how long you would be here, and where you would sleep.” Jamie repeated several of those questions, but I had answered them all the same each time. “I didn’t tell him you’re his father, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” he murmured. “Just wondered how he felt about me sleeping in Jean’s room.”
I pinched my mouth to the side as I considered how to answer that. “His relationship with my sister wasn’t… I don’t know how to word it. They weren’t very close? Jamie misses her, but he’s not as distraught as one would expect. I’ve taken him to see a counselor, as that’s the expected action in these cases, but Jamie doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. He has moments of sadness, especially when I remind him that Jean isn’t coming back, but he was so used to not seeing her that he doesn’t really react.”
“Do you think my being in her room will inspire a reaction?”
I shrugged. “It’s possible. Death isn’t a concept that children easily grasp. He’ll get it at some point, but he’s not all that bothered right now.”
“How did he act at the funeral?”
“He cried, but I suspect it was because he saw me crying.” I’d tried to stop it, but seeing my sister lying there in that coffin had momentarily shattered my walls. One glance at Jamie, though, had forced me to pull myself back together. I couldn’t show weakness around him, not when he needed me to be strong. “He’s too young to truly grasp that he’ll never see his mother again. You staying in her room might confirm it, or he may not react at all.”
Wyatt remained quiet, his focus on the passing buildings.
I cleared my throat as I strove for the strength to address my reaction last night. Confirming Jean knew about his paternity hadn’t bothered me nearly as much as his comment about sending money for Jamie’s care. For the last four years.
Part of me wanted to call him a liar, while the other part acknowledged Jean had more reason to lie about it. I always wondered where she stayed at night, assuming she spent it with friends, but with Wyatt sending her money, who the hell knew where she’d been. Or what she’d done.
It infuriated me. She’d taken complete advantage of both of us at Jamie’s expense. If she were still alive, I’d throttle her.
For months, I blamed myself for not seeing the signs that she was in trouble, but I’d been too busy raising my sister’s son to notice much else.
As much as it pained me to admit, I wouldn’t change my choices. Jamie deserved care and devotion. And my sister, well, she should have known better.
I chewed my cheek while thinking of how to word what I needed to say. We were approaching the school, so I needed to speak now or wait until after Jamie went to bed again. That would leave this cloud hanging over us all evening, and I really didn’t have the energy to withstand it much longer.
“About last night,” I started, pausing to lick my dry lips. Rip the Band-Aid off. “I, uh, well, your information surprised me. Jean never mentioned receiving money from you, let alone your name. She barely helped with my mortgage and never spent time with Jamie because of her supposed jobs. And, um, to learn that you’d been assisting her, well, it shocked me. Sorry if my reaction made you uncomfortable.”
He shifted in the passenger seat, and I felt his eyes on me. Even with sunglasses on, the man somehow managed to smolder. “No apology needed. I think we’re both learning a lot this week.”
I turned into the parking lot and found a spot near the front, then killed the engine. We were about twenty minutes early, which left us time to fill out the requisite forms to add Wyatt to the visitor’s list. There was, however, one minor detail to discuss.
“Uh, how do you want to be introduced to the preschool director? As Jamie’s dad, or…?” I had no other real suggestion beyond that. Legally, and ethically, he should be noted as the father. But how would we explain that to Jamie?
“Can we trust them?”
I unbuckled my seat belt. “To not tell Jamie?”
“That, yes, and to not tell anyone else.”
My brow furrowed. “Like who?”<
br />
His lips quirked. “Do you think it’s a coincidence that the tabloids have no idea about my relation to Jamie?”
I blinked. He was right. In all the articles I found about him, none of them mentioned his son. “Does your family know about him?”
“Of course. My father—if you can call him that—was positively thrilled to have something to hold over Evan’s head. It’s how he forced him onto that ridiculous show.”
“I…” Show? “Okay. Not sure what you mean, but I think you’re implying that you’re worried someone might leak your paternity to the press. Right?”
He removed his sunglasses to meet my gaze. “You really know nothing about my family?”
“Uh, I know they own a massive hotel chain. But I focused primarily on you the other night when researching.” I grimaced with the memory. “Not a lot of flattering information.”
His chuckle warmed me in a way it shouldn’t. “Be careful what you believe, Miss Perry. Most of it is bullshit.”
“So you didn’t climb onto a table in a New York City nightclub and put on a striptease for a bachelorette party?” I raised a brow, knowing full well he did. There was proof online in video form. Not that I had watched it beyond him losing his shirt. “And you didn’t get into a fistfight with what’s-his-name outside that gentleman’s club in Stockholm last year?”
Amusement radiated from him. “The fistfight was staged with a buddy to help him out of a predicament, and the striptease happened during my law school years.” He leaned into my personal space, pressing his lips to my ear. “My skills have improved since, if you’re interested in a private showing.”
His hot breath on my neck scattered goose bumps up and down my exposed arms. Not at all where I expected this conversation to go.
I swallowed a variety of responses, none of them sounding right in my head. They varied between eager acceptance and crude denial.
This man…
“Mmm, I’ll take your silence as a potential yes.” His lips brushed my neck before he pulled away to open his door. “We can tell them who I am as long as you trust them not to run to the tabloids. I don’t mind the world knowing Jamie is mine, but I’d prefer to announce it myself and avoid having a horde of entertainment magazines harassing you.” He unbuckled himself and climbed out.
I’d barely found the handle on my side when the door moved for me and a very amused Wyatt stood waiting. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, Avery.”
“I’m not.” I cleared the raspiness from my throat and managed to plant my feet on the ground. “Uh, thanks.”
“I grew up in the South. I have some manners.” He winked and slid his shades back over his eyes. “Shall we?”
10
Avery
The preschool handled all the paperwork without batting an eye. Wyatt completed a form and provided a copy of his photo identification for them to scan into their records.
No one seemed to recognize him, but they were definitely intrigued by our request not to disclose his paternity to Jamie. It likely wasn’t every day a father requested to remain anonymous to his child.
“Garrett will want them to sign NDAs this week,” he murmured as we walked toward Jamie’s classroom.
“NDAs, as in nondisclosure agreements?”
“Yes. It’s more to protect Jamie than it is to protect me. This is complicated enough already without the tabloids breathing down our necks.”
I hadn’t considered any of that, even after I learned of Wyatt’s family identity. It wasn’t a lifestyle I knew anything about. “What will Jamie’s life be like after they find out?”
“He’ll be well protected, but his world will be changed irrevocably. It’s part of the reason I agreed to let him stay with Jean. I didn’t want to remove him from a normal life. No child deserves that.”
Interesting. “So you had no idea she wasn’t actively involved with him?” I asked as we paused outside the classroom door.
“She provided me with regular updates that I’m starting to believe came from you.”
My hands fisted at my sides at the very real possibility that she’d used my words to update the father—a man I never knew existed. “I texted her photos and comments almost every day.”
“And she must have forwarded them to me.”
A low growl of disapproval emanated from me, born of frustration and fury. “If she were still alive, I’d strangle her.”
He chuckled. “I do believe I’d enjoy seeing that.”
Of course he would. Men loved catfights. “It wouldn’t end in our underwear. I promise you that.”
“Pity.” He pressed his lips to my ear. “I think I’d rather enjoy seeing you in nothing but a thong and maybe a bra. Preferably lace.”
Heat rushed up my neck in response. This man! How the heck did I respond to that? I had no idea if he meant it or merely wanted to rile me up.
The door opened, saving me from having to reply, and Miss Greene smiled up at me. “Hi, Miss Perry.” Her hazel eyes flickered to Wyatt and widened. “Oh. Hello.”
“This is Mister Mershano.” I gestured toward him like she wouldn’t know whom I was referring to and lamely added, “Miss Greene is Jamie’s teacher.”
Wyatt held out his hand. “Wyatt.”
“Gretchen,” she replied, her cheeks flushing as she pressed her palm to his. It seemed to be the way all women reacted in his presence.
No wonder he’d laughed at me for saying he paid for sex. I hadn’t meant he needed to purchase pleasure, just that he spent a lot of time with escorts, models, and would-be hookers. Or so the gossip magazines claimed, anyway. From what I’d observed this week, he seemed like a normal guy. Well, a normal guy with a hefty bank account and a swagger most men would envy.
“Nice to meet you.” The low, sexy quality of his voice seemed more appropriate for the bedroom, not the preschool hallway. Paired with the seductive grin flirting over his lips, it was a wonder Miss Greene hadn’t fainted.
Her mouth opened and closed, words escaping her. I understood the feeling.
“Rebel friend!” Jamie came running toward us with his book bag hanging off one shoulder. His brown eyes were on Wyatt, his grin wide; then it morphed into a glorious smile when he realized I stood beside him. “Auntie A! I missed you!”
I bent just in time to receive his hug and pressed my nose to his mop of brown hair. He’d need a cut soon, but it could wait another week.
“We played more goose games today. It was sooo awesome. And I made you something. Hold on.” He pulled his pack off and unzipped it eagerly. A paper appeared before my nose. I had to crane my neck back to see the stick-figure drawing properly. “Miss Greene said it’s Friday, so I drew a pizza with you, rebel friend, and me.” He sounded very proud of himself.
“It’s beautiful. Why don’t you show Wyatt?” I stood and fixed my freshly wrinkled shirt.
Jamie eagerly lifted the drawing for Wyatt’s perusal. “See!”
“Wow, I had no idea you were an artist, Jamie.” Wyatt’s expression and voice radiated approval, just like a dad’s should. “Is that a pepperoni pizza?”
Jamie beamed. “Yep. Because it’s pizza day!”
“We just had pizza on Wednesday,” I reminded him.
“Oh.” Jamie’s face fell. “But it’s Friday. We alllways have pizza, Auntie A. Can’t we have pizza again? Maybe cheese instead of pespers-onis?”
“Pep-per-oni,” I corrected him slowly.
“Pepser-onis.” He grinned proudly, assuming he’d said that correctly. “Pleeeaasseeee!”
Wyatt gave me a bemused look. “He really loves pizza.”
“You have no idea.” I never should have started the Friday night pizza tradition. It seemed to be his sole focus for food, and he always wanted to know how many days until Friday.
“I’ll leave you all to sort your dinner plans,” Miss Greene said, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Wyatt.”
“Likewise.” He flashed her a polite smile before shifting hi
s focus to Jamie. “So, what’s the best way to talk your aunt into having pizza again tonight?”
Jamie grinned and waggled his finger at Wyatt, indicating he wanted him to bend down so he could whisper in his ear. “I’ll show you,” he said far too loudly to be stealthy.
Wyatt smiled. “Okay.”
A pair of beautiful brown eyes gazed up at me with the most pathetic, pleading expression ever. “Pleeease, Auntie A. Pleeeaassseee.” Jamie added the lip wobble.
Clever kid.
Manipulative, too.
I shook my head, charmed despite the obvious ploy to trick me into another pizza night. “Fine, but I’m picking the toppings.” I never could deny this kid. He was too damn cute.
“Yes!” He danced around and nearly tripped over his bag. Wyatt caught him and set him upright while chuckling.
“Your aunt is that easy, huh?” Humor touched his dark gaze as he glanced at me. “I’ll remember that trick.”
I rolled my eyes. “It won’t work for you.”
“Perhaps not that particular one, but I have several others at my disposal, Miss Perry. Consider that your only warning.”
My heart skipped a beat at the promise in his voice. He must have heard it, because his dimples deepened.
“There’s that flustered look again,” he teased.
Jamie managed to put his bag back together on his own, hopefully with the picture inside. As it wasn’t lying on the ground near us, I assumed he remembered it. He put both arms through the straps this time and held out his hand for mine. “Ready!”
“Good job, Jamie.” He was a good kid, minus the pizza obsession. “Let’s go home and order some pizza.”
* * *
Wyatt played cars with Jamie while I finished up a few work emails. For the first time since Mershano’s arrival, I saw the benefit to him being here.
This was no longer a one-person job.
I had someone in the house to help me.
The novelty of it struck me again after dinner when he offered to clean up.
The Rebel’s Redemption: Mershano Empire Series Page 7
