Off Limits Lovers

by Reese Ryan

  “Glad I could help.” Roarke shook his father’s hand. “But it’s too soon to celebrate. There’s still the murder investigation to consider.”

  “I know.” Angela nodded sadly. “Poor Vincent. He might not have been the best employee, but he certainly didn’t deserve this.”

  “They don’t honestly believe I had anything to do with that man’s death, do they?” Sterling frowned.

  “The investigators claim that people inside your company suspect that Vincent stumbled upon your Ponzi scheme and threatened to out you, so you killed him or had him killed. Either way, you’ve become their chief suspect.”

  “But you just proved that I wasn’t trying to defraud anyone. So what possible motive would I have to kill the man?”

  “What if Vincent was the one who started the rumors in the first place?” Angela asked. “The perception that Perry Holdings defrauded investors created substantial losses for our company and our clients. Wouldn’t that give Dad just as strong of a motive for shutting Vincent up?”

  “Whose side are you on?” Sterling grumbled.

  “Yours, of course,” she assured him. “But we need to look at this thing from every angle.”

  “She’s right, Dad. It’s the only way we can stay ahead of this. We need to think the way they do and anticipate their next move.” Roarke sat in the chair and sipped his scotch and soda.

  “So what now?” Sterling picked up his glass from the table and drained his whiskey.

  “First, we pray that Detective Warren and her team are competent enough to find the real killer, and soon.” Roarke set his glass on a coaster on the table. “Second, we keep digging for clues. Find out if anyone might’ve had an ax to grind with Vincent Hamm. Or you.”

  Both Sterling and Angela looked alarmed by the possibility. But the truth was that his father collected enemies like some men collected coins or rare stamps. There was a long list of people outside the company, and a few inside, who might want to exact revenge on Sterling Perry. His father could teach a masterclass on rubbing people the wrong way. In his father’s case, familiarity often did indeed breed contempt.

  It was a lesson he’d learned firsthand.

  “How long will you be in Houston?” Angela asked her brother.

  “Until this case is settled.” Roarke shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “I’ve made arrangements with my office in Dallas.”

  “That’s great, Roarke. You know how much I appreciate this, but I can’t help wondering if your affinity for a beautiful young lady had a hand in your decision.” She smiled. “If so, just remember what we talked about earlier.”

  His sisters just couldn’t resist ribbing him, especially when it came to his love life. “This has nothing to do with Annabel.”

  “Sure, little brother.” Angela’s teasing grin made it clear she thought he was full of it. She grabbed her purse. “I’m having dinner with her father tonight. I’ll be sure to say hello, if I see her.”

  “Wait... You’re talking about Currin’s daughter?” Sterling’s gaze shifted from Angela to Roarke, then back again. “This is a big city. Did you two find it absolutely necessary to go swimming in the Currin dating pool?”

  Roarke sighed. “Thanks, sis.”

  “You’re welcome,” she practically sang as she turned to leave. “Good night.”

  Roarke finished the last of his drink as an awkward silence settled over the room.

  “I’m sure you’ve had a long day, so I’ll just—” Roarke started to rise to his feet.

  “Have another drink with your old man?” Sterling asked.

  “I’d better not.” Roarke rubbed his palms on his pant legs. “I have to drive back to the condo. One Perry in an ankle bracelet is more than enough.”

  “You’ve got a point.” Sterling chuckled. “But of course, you don’t have to go back to the condo tonight. You’re welcome to stay. I was just gonna hunker down and watch some old Westerns like we did on Saturday nights when you were a kid.”

  His mouth curved in an involuntary smile as he recalled those nights when it was just the two of them, watching old spaghetti Westerns starring Clint Eastwood, Charles Bronson, Lee Van Cleef or Henry Fonda. Violent movies his mother preferred that he not watch.

  One of the many battles of wills his parents had where he was concerned.

  “Sounds like fun, but I—”

  “C’mon, son.” His father’s voice was soft and pleading.

  Roarke studied Sterling’s expression. For the first time that he could remember, his father didn’t look like the imposing giant who ran his empire with a steel fist. The father who only showed softness around the edges where his daughters were concerned.

  Sterling Perry looked vulnerable and every bit of his seventy years of age. Maybe more.

  “I’d really like it if you’d stay. It’ll give us a chance to talk.” Sterling stood, grabbing his glass from the table. He picked up Roarke’s glass, too. “What are you drinking tonight, son?”

  “Scotch and soda.” It wasn’t lost on him that his father had made a point of calling him son repeatedly. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Sterling took their glasses behind the bar and poured their drinks. He handed the tumbler to Roarke and returned to his chair. He sipped his drink in silence.

  “So, I fully expect that the FBI will drop the charges of fraud related to the allegations of a Ponzi scheme.” Roarke set his drink on the table after taking a deep sip. “But until you’ve been cleared in the murder investigation, it would be best if you lie low.”

  “Thank you, Roarke. For everything you’ve done these past few weeks. I know that you’ve got your own life and your practice back in Dallas. And let’s face it, I’m not winning any father-of-the-year awards where you’re concerned. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t wanted to get involved. But I’m thankful you did.”

  “Glad I could help.” Roarke nodded, accepting the compliment. It was unfamiliar and uncomfortable for both of them.

  “Roarke,” Sterling said after a quiet lull between them. “I’m sorry, son. I know I was much harder on you than I was on your sisters. I know you think it’s because...” His father glanced down at the envelope on the table, but he couldn’t seem to bear to vocalize his thoughts. “It wasn’t. At least, I always told myself it wasn’t. That I just needed to toughen you up. To make sure you were strong enough to one day stand in my shoes and be the man your sisters will need when you become the patriarch of this family.”

  Roarke carefully regarded his father’s words and his response to them. Over the years, he’d learned to bury his hurt and anger over his father’s treatment. He’d convinced himself that he didn’t really give a damn that his father had considered him a letdown. Because he never wanted to be like Sterling Perry, anyway.

  But the truth was it had hurt like hell to be a constant disappointment to a man like Sterling Perry. And like any human being, he’d wanted his father to be proud of him.

  “I appreciate that you felt you were making me a stronger, more capable man.” Roarke sipped his scotch and soda. “But it sure as hell felt extremely personal.”

  “I know.” Lines spanned across Sterling’s forehead. “And I wish I could say you were wrong. But I think we both know my actions were colored by what I believed to be true.”

  “I appreciate your honesty. I really do.” Roarke swallowed back the lifetime of pain that bubbled up in his chest. “But if you really believed I was Ryder Currin’s son, why didn’t you ask for a paternity test when I was born? Or at any time in the past twenty-eight years? You could’ve saved us both a lot of heartache.”

  Sterling took a long pull from his glass and set it on the table with a thud. He sighed heavily. “I was terrified it was true. That once I had confirmation, our relationship would never recover.”

  Roarke fought back the anger and bitterness that burned
his lungs. Emotions he’d buried deep.

  He ignored the part of himself that wanted to scream and curse. To bang his fists on the table and tell Sterling Perry exactly what he could do with his two-decades-too-late apology.

  “I’m sorry, it’s late and I have an early-morning conference call about a case I’m working on.” Roarke stood abruptly.

  “You really don’t need to go, son. In fact, I’d appreciate the company.”

  “The spaghetti Western marathon sounds great. Really. Another night, okay?”

  Roarke turned to go, leaving his mostly untouched drink on the table.

  “Roarke.” His father followed him toward the door.

  “Yes, sir?” Roarke turned to face him.

  “What Angela said... Is it true about you and Currin’s daughter?”

  Roarke rubbed the back of his neck. “I like her. A lot. But I’m not really sure where things will go from here. I don’t see the point in starting something when she’s opening a new business here and I’ve got my practice in Dallas.”

  “True.” Sterling nodded sagely. “But Houston is your home. It’s where your family is. Your sisters and I would love it if you moved back.”

  “I appreciate the thought. But I’m happy in Dallas.” Roarke patted his father’s shoulder. “Good night.”

  He stepped outside and inhaled deeply, thankful for the fresh air that filled his lungs. The den had suddenly seemed like too small a space, the air dense and stale. He felt as if he could breathe easily for the first time since his father began his apology.

  Roarke headed toward his rental, knowing there was only one person he wanted to call.

  Fifteen

  Annabel lifted a handful of scented bubbles and blew, watching as they scattered. She was an adult and yet she loved a good bubble bath as much as she had as a young child. She’d even vlogged from her tub about the use of various DIY skin care treatments. Wearing a bikini, of course. But tonight, she was just relaxing after a long day at the shop. A day filled with both good news and bad.

  Wonderful moments, like meeting the Lewistons and the incredible kiss she shared with Roarke. However, there was the news that had hit her like a punch to the gut. She’d been a gullible fool where Mason was concerned. Then there was the argument with her brother over Roarke being her lawyer. And she couldn’t help feeling slighted at Roarke’s failure to acknowledge to her brother that they were more than just attorney and client.

  Though, honestly, she couldn’t exactly explain what their relationship was.

  She knew that she wanted Roarke Perry in a way that had surprised her. And despite his reluctance, he seemed to feel the same.

  Annabel extended one leg and slathered on her favorite DIY exfoliating mango sugar scrub.

  She’d just climbed out of the tub and dried herself off when her phone rang. She secured the towel around her and answered it.

  “Roarke. Hi.”

  “Hi, Annabel.” He’d only spoken two words, but something in his voice alarmed her.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Roarke brought her up to speed on his father’s case, including the news that they expected him to be released from house arrest soon.

  “That’s fantastic news, right?” She would’ve expected him to sound more excited about the fraud charges being dropped against Sterling.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “It’s great news.”

  So why didn’t he seem more excited about it?

  There was something he wasn’t saying.

  “So why aren’t you knocking back a couple of beers with your father right now?” she asked as she dried her hair.

  “Sterling Perry is more of a single-malt whiskey kind of guy.” There was humor in his voice, but there was still sadness there, too. “I just left the ranch, actually, and...” The line suddenly went quiet. She’d begun to wonder if she’d dropped the call when he finally spoke again. “You know, it’s late. You’re probably busy.”

  “Roarke, what is it?” Annabel sat on the edge of the tub. “Talk to me.”

  He hesitated before he spoke again. “Angela showed Sterling the results from the paternity test tonight. He wanted to talk about them.”

  “Is he questioning their validity?” She’d never been a fan of Sterling Perry. But if he’d caused Roarke even more pain, she might seriously reconsider her promise not to key anyone’s car.

  “No. He actually apologized.” Roarke sounded as if he couldn’t believe it. “He claims that it wasn’t his intention to treat me poorly, but he admitted that his suspicion that I wasn’t his biological son played an underlying role in our relationship.”

  She could feel his pain. Could hear the sadness, hurt and restrained anger beneath his reserved tone. And she had an overwhelming desire to comfort him.

  “Hearing him finally apologize after all this time must’ve stirred up a lot of emotions for you. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re feeling, Roarke, but I’m here, if you need to talk.”

  “Sterling asked me to stay at the ranch tonight so we could watch old cowboy movies the way we did when I was a kid. It was...a nice gesture. Part of me appreciated the offer.”

  “But another part of you is finding it really hard to just forgive and forget, as if none of this ever happened.” Her heart broke for him.

  “Precisely. It feels like I’m letting him off too easy.” His voice was faint and sad. “Some part of me feels like he should suffer the way I did. I know that sounds awful. That I should just accept the olive branch he’s extending.”

  She couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain of having such a fractured relationship with a parent.

  She’d often felt sorry for herself because at the age of ten she’d lost her mother to a cruel, insidious disease. She’d been acutely aware of her loss as she’d been planning her wedding. The moments that other brides-to-be cherished regularly brought her to tears.

  But in listening to Roarke and feeling the deep-seated pain that had shattered his relationship with his father, she realized how lucky she’d been to have been born to Ryder and Elinah Currin. They’d made her feel abundantly loved and truly cherished.

  “What you’re feeling is human, Roarke. You’ve built a wall around your heart where your father is concerned. It was your way of dealing with the pain. It’s not surprising that it would take some time for you to take that wall down.”

  “Thank you, Annabel.”

  “For what?”

  “For understanding,” he said simply. “I was listening to my father, trying to absorb what he was saying without drowning in this deluge of rage I’ve been tamping down my entire life. Suddenly, the night you and I went for a walk on the beach in Galveston popped in my head, and I knew I needed to talk to you. In fact, I wish we were there now.”

  “If you’d asked me to come to the beach with you tonight, Roarke, I would’ve said yes.”

  “Good to know.” He seemed relieved. “Next weekend, maybe?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But in the meantime, how about dinner at your place tomorrow? I’ll bring the meal. I just need an address.”

  She typed the information into her phone and wished Roarke a good-night.

  Annabel couldn’t explain the strong pull she felt toward Roarke. Nor could she explain why they had clicked so instantly. She only knew that there was something special about the relationship they were building. And she couldn’t bear to think of how much she’d miss him once he returned to his life in Dallas.

  * * *

  Roarke returned to his condo and tossed the keys onto the kitchen counter. His mind still buzzed with all the events of the day. He often worked late into the night when he was in the midst of a case. Yet, tonight his mind had reached the point of exhaustion.

  He pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and twisted off the cap.

 
Sterling Perry actually apologized.

  Roarke was still in a partial state of shock, wondering if he’d dreamt it. He couldn’t remember his father ever saying the word sorry. And he’d long given up imagining that his father would ever show any remorse about the way he’d treated him.

  Sterling bought into the old-school mentality that apologizing was a weakness to be avoided at all costs. It was a philosophy Roarke didn’t subscribe to.

  In fact, he found it impossible to respect a person who lacked the courage or self-awareness to admit when they were wrong.

  Seeing his father looking frail and humble had unnerved him. It was a running joke among his siblings that their father would probably outlive all of them because he was too ornery to ever die. But the man Roarke had seen tonight was a mere mortal in search of redemption.

  Roarke stripped out of his clothing and hopped in the shower, hoping the hot water beating on his skin would help clear the muddled mess in his brain. Steam rose, filling the room as he lathered his body and washed his hair, his thoughts turning to Annabel.

  His father had asked if he was serious about her. It was such a loaded question. One he didn’t have a clear answer to.

  He hadn’t known Annabel Currin long. So why did it feel like he’d known her forever? And how was it that she seemed to know him in ways no one else did? Certainly not his family nor any woman he’d dated.

  Annabel was playful and sweet. She brought out a side of him that he’d nearly forgotten about. And she reminded him that even when chaos swirled around him, it was okay to be human. To enjoy life and try to find happiness. Something he seemed to have forgotten in the years since he’d opened his practice.

  Roarke loved his work and he took pride in helping others. But the cases he handled could be intense. He’d promised himself that he would never put business above family, the way his father had. Yet, before he’d returned home to help his father and met Annabel, his work had become the totality of his existence.