Chapter Six – Shay
My father had more assets than I thought.
I knew he was wealthy, but now I saw the bank statements and investment reports and property listings. Dad was lucky the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future hadn’t paid him a visit.
While Momma stewed in her declared independence and clipped coupons, Dad sailed away from his responsibilities on a yacht.
A yacht that also belonged to Zach.
He could take the part under the water.
My phone buzzed. Azariah was the last one I wanted to talk to. She expected a play-by-play of the magic night I told her about. My father’s funeral wasn’t the place or time to discuss my sex life, especially around family who might be less than enthusiastic with my wild oats being of the…paler variety.
But at lot changed between my night with Zach and now. Azariah was the type to lend a sympathetic ear only until she thought she could live your life better.
At this point, she probably could. I answered the call anyway.
“How’s my favorite millionaire?” Azariah tapped on her keyboard. Calling from work. Always the multi-tasker. “Hanging in there?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said. “There’s more money than we thought.”
“More?” She screeched and tisked her tongue at someone who must have passed her desk. She scolded him and then returned to me. “You, mind your business. Shay, I’m listening. How many more zeros are we talking?”
“Three?”
“Damn.”
“Look, it’s really complicated. I’m kinda in the middle of a giant freaking mess, and it’s only getting worse because I can’t fix much of it until I get the trust fund.”
“That sucks. You have all the money in the world, and you can’t touch it.”
“Momma fought tooth, nail, and weave to make sure of it.”
“I loved Kaydon to death, but I never understood her.”
I scattered the investment reports on my desk. “She wanted me to learn independence. At least I had my car and school paid for.”
“Lucky.”
I knew it too. That didn’t help the guilt. Because of Dad’s money, I could do whatever I wanted in life. Which was good. I studied to be a teacher, and they weren’t necessarily known for their stellar paychecks. But the salary hadn’t mattered. My goal was to find a job somewhere, anywhere, and I’d teach kids more than letters and numbers. I’d make sure they never felt alone.
Ever.
But my textbooks were pushed onto the floor to make room for more boxes, and my student teaching schedule pinned over my desk. Moving to the mansion meant a long commute. Could I give that up just to stay close to my school? Hard choice. Until I made it, the books remained on the floor, and my apartment existed in a state of mess, half-way packed.
“So…?” Azariah clicked a pen. She’d probably draw some fantastic picture by the end of her shift. She hated the gig at the sales office, but it gave her time to sketch. I planned to buy her first piece of art for a ridiculous price to generate buzz for her name. It’d work, if she’d find the courage to push it into the world. “Tell me about the guy you met.”
“It’s…complicated.”
“Is there anything about you that isn’t complicated anymore?” She snorted. “You have all the money in the world. Cars, houses, mansions, and you got laid. You’re living the dream.”
Not quite. I sucked in a breath. “My father married Emily before they died.”
“Who? His girlfriend?” Azariah breathed into the phone. “No.”
“She had a son. And he…” I banished the memory of his lips pressing into my neck. “Made it into the will.”
“No way!” Azariah whooped. “Girl, this is some Lifetime movie shit.”
“It gets worse.”
Azariah hushed me for a second before muffling the phone and announcing to anyone listening in the office. “I’m going on break, ya’ll! Keep talking, girl. Who is this son?”
“I already met him.”
Silence. She waited, not making it easy on me.
“He and I…met.”
“Oh.” She figured it out. “Oh, Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“You…and your step-brother?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, honey. This is beyond Lifetime. This belongs on Maury Povich.”
“It’s horrible,” I said.
“Did you know it was him?”
“Of course not!” Give me some credit. “But I have a lot to figure out.”
“But…” Azariah hummed. “Was he any good?”
I tossed a suitcase onto the bed, but nothing from my drawers made it in. “He’s my step-brother!”
“Well…I mean…he’s not blood.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“People do fucked up shit all the time. You’re rich. You can get away with it.”
I sighed. “Not this.”
“All those kings and queens in Europe used to do it.”
“I’m not a queen!”
“Didn’t Woody Allen marry his adopted daughter?”
“Gross.”
She snickered. “Maybe you’ve been watching too much Game of Thrones.”
“It’s not funny! This is a problem! I have to deal with this guy, okay?”
“It’s a little funny.”
I didn’t need her attitude. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Sorry.” She let it pass, but I knew her too well. She wasn’t done. She circled the pack, looking for somewhere weak to sink her teeth. “But you know this wouldn’t have happened if you had just talked with your dad.”
I packed all of my underwear into the suitcase. I had more than I thought. Now the latches wouldn’t close. Fantastic.
“He left us,” I said. “We had nothing to discuss. Don’t make me feel guilty. I’m on a hair trigger.”
“He was trying to start a relationship. The car and school and gifts. He extended an olive branch.”
And I broke that twig over my knee and cast it into a fire. “I know. But it doesn’t change anything. He made his choice. Hell, he even started a new family.”
“It really is sad.”
And now I had more guilt. “I gotta get packing. I’m heading up to the—” I didn’t want to say mansion. “—House.”
“When can I see it?”
It was probably visible if she squinted and looked at the horizon. “Whenever you like.”
“You’ll need to have a big graduation party there, Shay. Something to celebrate your trust.”
“I guess.”
“You leave that to me. I’ll plan you something worthy of an MTV special.”
God help us all. Azariah was eager to keep talking, but she miraculously had to go when I asked if she’d help me pack. I was on my own to box up my things and transform myself into someone completely different.
A mansion awaited me, just a little ways north of the city.
A whole mansion.
Pools and hot tubs, patios and gardens, fountains and statues. Downton Abbey was my new reality, except I didn’t have a lick of English inside me…not without Zach’s persistence.
Except, it didn’t feel right. None of it.
So why did I want to live there so badly?
I knew it was more than money and security and luxury. The estate was the only bit of family I had left.
How was I supposed to know Dad would die?
I sighed. No sense dwelling on the past. Momma always said we’d have more than enough time at Judgement for that.
First thing was first. I needed to buy luggage. I wasn’t moving into a beautiful new mansion hauling garbage bags full of clothing into my room.
The knocking rattled my door just as I finished folding my last pair of socks. I grinned—who thought Azariah would actually help me move?
I bounded to the door, swinging it open without bothering to greet her. I grabbed an armful of dirty laundry from the living room. No more quarters for the machines downstairs. Hell, I could buy new outfits whenever mine needed to be washed.
“Azariah, Grab whatever looks like clothes and follow me.” The laundry smothered me as I gave the order. “We have to figure out how to stuff everything I own into one suitcase.”
I hobbled to the bedroom and dropped the armful of clothes onto the already bigger pile cluttering the floor. Maybe Dad did help more than I thought. Without worrying about car payments or school, I had much more disposable income to spend on my wardrobe.
I examined the mess. Where did I get a Taylor Swift shirt? That was Azariah’s doing. I kicked the shirt over to her and finally looked up.
I hadn’t welcomed Azariah into my apartment.
It was Zach.
And he picked up the laciest, pinkest pair of panties I owned. He stretched them between his fingers.
“Packing the necessities?” He asked.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
I leapt over the bed and slammed shut the suitcase brimming with panties. The bed frame was a piece of junk. The slats holding the box-spring slipped, and everything tumbled, including the suitcase. Zach laughed as a wave of panties cascaded over his legs.
“What the hell are you doing in my room?” I shrieked.
He jerked a thumb to the door. His t-shirt tightened over his biceps. Didn’t he have any clothes that fit?
“You let me in.”
“Well, get out!”
“Why?”
“Because this place only has me on the lease. You don’t live here!”
Dimples, a flash of teeth, and a quirked eyebrow. He disarmed me without even trying.
“Relax. I wanted to see if you needed help moving.” He wagged a folder in his hand. “William called me. Said he had some paperwork for us. I volunteered to bring it.”
I took the folder. “Thanks. Get out.”
He declined with a smile. “So, you’re packing? Decided to come stay with me after all?”
“I’ve decided to live in the house that my father passed to me.”
“I haven’t had a roommate for a while. Hopefully it’s better than the barracks.”
“We are not roommates.”
“Not yet. Look at all this packing you have to do.” His grin would suffocate me. “Seriously, need any help getting this to the car?”
“Not from you.”
Zach motioned to sit on my bed. I chased him away.
“Shay, come on. There’s no sense being angry.”
I had every right to be angry. I fluttered around his feet, collecting stray bits of the sluttiest and most embarrassing underwear I had. I didn’t know what was worse—the granny panties or the slinky silk ones.
I poked his chest as he dared to get in my way, but brandishing a thong at him wasn’t threatening.
“You tricked me,” I said. “You had sex with me without saying you were my step-brother. You lied about who you were, why you found me, and what you were doing. It was cruel, and I want nothing to do with you now. No help. No moving. No nothing.”
“How am I supposed to make it better if you won’t even listen to me?”
“There’s nothing to make-better. You are beyond apologies at this point.”
“Give me a chance?
Was he kidding? I threw the laundry onto the bed. “Zach, you hurt me.”
His smile faded. “It wasn’t my intention.”
“First I poured my soul out to you, and then we had…”
And there I went again, imagining everything I had tried not to imagine for the past week and a half.
And he must have imagined it too. Zach shifted, adjusting himself without making it obvious he was adjusting.
That namesake again.
Hard.
He lived up to it. He was supremely gifted. Just knowing how he had felt, tasted, and pleasured was too much for me to handle right now.
Or ever again.
“You are the biggest mistake of my life.” I took a breath, but I didn’t let him intimidate me. “But you know what? I’m going to take you up on your offer.”
Zach tilted his head—a look I’d consider cute and puppyish if I didn’t know better. He was no little rolly-polly cutie, he was the wolf. Cunning. Sleek. Built for power and precision. I didn’t meet his gaze. The green was far too inviting for what I needed to say.
“You’re going to come stay at the mansion?” He stepped closer, twirling the little pink panties around his finger. “It’s a good idea, Shay. We could keep each other company. Again.”
I braced as he approached. He was huge, powerful, and perfect. I had never felt petite before, but in his shadow, I was overwhelmed.
Zach could haul me around a bed with one arm and then cuddle me against his strength when we were done. And I remembered the wonderful things he’d whispered, things that warmed me from inside once more.
My chest tightened, and everything else clenched too. How could a man who was so wrong, so horrible, and so awful tempt me?
My head and heart tangled with each other. Neither could overpower the other.
Con-artist.
Sexiest man I ever touched.
Liar.
He smiled, baring his teeth, reminding me of his teasing bite.
Step-brother.
He was too close to me. The rugged, dusty scent of him dizzied my head worse than the drinks he bought me that night. I would have done anything if he were just a stranger, just someone I met, just someone I could have once more.
But he wasn’t.
He was Zach. He was the worst thing that ever happened to me.
And he was still holding my panties.
I ripped them away from him, but my fingers brushed his. A dozen little shivers cracked into a thousand tiny whispers with a million different regrets. His hand warmed mine, so much bigger and stronger than my delicate palm. His skin, light and fair, contrasted mine with perfect beauty. Like we were made opposite just to be brought together. Two sides of a coin. Two polar extremes of a magnet.
My mouth dried. He stilled.
“Shay—”
His voice rumbled with a playboy’s confidence, the smooth jazz of a man who knew what he liked and got it every time.
But not this time.
I couldn’t let him do this to me.
Not again.
New life rule. Zach was a sin, even worse than the cardinal ones, if they made it. Blue-jay maybe. Or, since he was an American soldier, Bald Eagle Sin.
In any case, Zach Harden was completely off-limits to me. Forbidden. And I had one way to make sure he left my life forever.
It wasn’t every day a girl could recover from her mistakes with grace. It was an even rarer day she could buy redemption. I had the money. I had the opportunity. I would spend as much as I could if it meant banishing my greatest mistake. Enough was enough.
“I’m moving to the mansion,” I said. “But once I get my trust, I’m buying your half of the estate from you. After that’s done, you’ll have no reason to contact me again.”
“Fair is fair.” Zach leaned close. “Though I think you’re missing a great opportunity.”
“For what?”
“To fall for me.”
I met his gaze, just as hard and deliberate as the rest of him. “I would rather lose every penny to my name than fall for you.”
“Say the word. You can get me for free.”
I laughed. “Cherish your memories. That’s all you’ll ever have.”
“Those are some priceless memories, baby.” He grabbed a packed box from the floor, but nearly dropped it. His fingers trembled. He cracked his knuckles and tried again, lifting it without a problem. “Are these going?”
“Put it down.”
He winked. “I’ll take it home for you. But don’t be late. I’m ordering dinner for seven.”
He grabbed another box on the way out.
Great. I was barefoot, and every pair of shoes I owned was packed in the box he carried outside. My panties scattered in his wake.
I groaned.
Living with Zach would be living with pure temptation. Either I’d throttle him or I’d…
I didn’t let myself finish the thought. There was no other alternative. We could tolerate each other in a semi-peaceful truce and that was it. No ordered dinners. No falling for him.
And no reason for him to have stolen my favorite pair of black panties!
I rifled through my suitcase and checked under the bed. Gone. God, he was a pervert.
I fumed.
He had it right. He deserved every part of his nickname.
Living with Zach was going to be H-a-r-d.