The Heir

by Joanne Rock

  Something like understanding, or maybe just a temporary need to appease him, lit her dark eyes. She returned to twisting her fingers, locking them together at one angle and then another.

  “I understand why you feel that way,” she said quietly, her whole slim body still. “But you’ve already offered to retain a lawyer to help Matthew with his claim. That’s more than enough. I didn’t travel to Montana so you’d rewrite your whole business. I just wanted to know the truth about Matthew’s father. And now that I do, we can go back to our lives.”

  The hits kept coming. He shouldn’t be surprised.

  He’d retreated from her just this morning because he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression, but now he wondered if that hadn’t been an act of self-preservation as much as anything. He’d known all along she might not accept his help where her nephew was concerned.

  “You’re in that much of a hurry to leave?” He studied her face, regretting that they had to have this conversation now when she’d admitted she was tired. When they’d both had hellish days.

  “I think it would be wisest. Last night made it difficult for me to remember what we are to each other on a day-to-day basis.” A flash of hurt might have streaked over her expression, but it was gone again before he could be sure. “There’s no sense pretending that spending time together will lead anywhere.”

  Damn it, he hadn’t meant to hurt her.

  Just thinking that he might have only added to the weight of guilt threatening to drown him. He would do anything to fix that. He owed her everything for stepping in to care for Matthew.

  A boy he hadn’t even met.

  The wrongs he’d done kept adding up as it occurred to him that he needed to meet Zach’s son. But first, he had to keep Nicole here long enough to figure out the best way to make that happen.

  “Spending time together could help us iron out the problems we’re discussing right now.” He started to reach for her. “Matthew’s guardianship—”

  “Is not up for debate,” she said sharply, pulling back. “I’ve been clear about that from the beginning.”

  Hell.

  He wished he could bring her inside so they could talk over dinner, but he feared as soon as she left the vehicle, she’d start packing. It was his fault for putting this wall between them again. He shouldn’t have been so adamant about managing expectations in their relationship, but he’d been afraid of hurting her.

  Unfortunately, he’d done just that anyway.

  “I understand.” He reached for her hands again, covering them with his. When she didn’t pull away, he stroked the back of one, reminding himself he wasn’t going to have another chance with her. He needed to find a way to maintain a dialogue with her and protect Zach’s son at the same time. He owed it to Zach. To Nicole, for turning her whole life upside down to step into her sister’s shoes and be a mother to Matthew. “I’d never question your right as a parent.”

  A fraction of the tension seemed to ease from her.

  Her hands stilled.

  “Thank you.” She let out a long breath. “It’s a lot of responsibility. I’m just trying to do my best with him. He’s such a great kid. He deserves to be happy and secure. Loved.”

  Hearing her speak helped Desmond see that he wanted the same thing. Matthew’s happiness and security had become the most important thing in his world today. And considering that the responsibility weighed heavily on Nicole—no matter how much she loved the boy—made Desmond realize he wanted to offer a more concrete kind of help.

  There had to be a way he could ensure the boy’s future...

  The answer hit him hard. Legally, there was a way to make sure Matthew had every financial advantage and future protection. A way to ease the burden on Nicole so she could spend her time being a guardian instead of worrying about paying tuition or facilitating her nephew’s legal recognition as Zach’s heir. But would Nicole ever consent to it? Desmond recalled with unease how she’d refused to accept his offers of financial help. He didn’t want to be at odds with her, but he was out of time to figure out how to best appeal to her.

  “I agree with you.” The more he thought about his idea, the more he liked it. The more it seemed like the simplest solution. “Matthew should be happy and secure. And he has the right to know more about his father while maintaining the same attachment to you that he’s always had.”

  One auburn eyebrow lifted. Curious.

  His heart pounded in anticipation of sharing his plan. He hoped she would at least hear him out because his intentions were good. Desmond had never considered taking on such a big role in a child’s life before, but this was Zach Eldridge’s kid they were talking about. A boy who’d been overlooked for far too long by the people who loved Zach.

  “What do you mean?”

  He dug deep to offer her words he’d never thought he’d say to anyone.

  “Marry me, Nicole.”

  Twelve

  “Excuse me?”

  Shifting on the leather bucket seat in the front of Desmond’s Range Rover, Nicole needed that last thing he’d said repeated. She had zoned out during the panic attack back at the jail, so she guessed she could be having a recurrence of whatever had happened then.

  Because Desmond couldn’t have possibly proposed.

  “You’d maintain complete say over raising Matthew, of course,” he continued, speaking in a rush, as if he had a lot to say. “But legally, a marriage would give Matthew immediate financial security along with my name. We could spend part of the year at the ranch so he could get to know—”

  “Are you suggesting a marriage between...us?” She didn’t want to presume when she still felt disconnected and confused. Her whole life had changed—again—after today’s visit to the jail, and she hadn’t come close to wrapping her head around what it meant.

  “Yes. Between you and me.” He seemed to slow himself down with an effort. “I think it would be beneficial for all of us. Matthew especially.”

  Her heart fell. There’d been no misunderstanding after all. No feelings. No connection.

  Realizing his hand still rested on hers, she tugged her fingers free. She couldn’t afford to indulge in the feel of his touch—something that had offered such comfort a moment ago—when he was making a mockery of their whole relationship by suggesting this bloodless arrangement that would apparently benefit Matthew.

  She wanted to yell. To screech, How dare you? right into his oh-so-composed, far-too-handsome face illuminated by the dash lights. But doing that would let him see how much this coldhearted contract hurt.

  “I thought you had no aspirations to fatherhood.” She remembered his exact phrasing, because it had punctured a hole in the stupid balloon of hopes that she’d somehow allowed to expand too far, too fast. “I don’t think Matthew deserves a figurehead father who isn’t really interested in filling the role.”

  She saw the remark make a direct hit, but it gave her zero satisfaction considering Desmond looked genuinely distraught at the thought. On some level at least, he cared enough to not want to inflict hurt.

  “You’re right,” he told her quickly, recovering. The muscle in his jaw flexed. “He deserves better than that. Better than me. But I’m here. I’m just trying to figure out how to cover a lot of concerns, and I’m not doing that effectively by strategizing in a hurry.”

  The hollow in her chest echoed with the empty proposal, already withdrawn. Or as good as. Clearly, he understood why it wasn’t a workable idea. But it still hurt that he would have suggested something guaranteed to break her heart by reminding her of all that Desmond wasn’t interested in pursuing with her.

  Love. Happiness. Family.

  They may not have known each other long, but she already understood him well enough to know she couldn’t settle for a fraction of the affection he was capable of giving. No matter how incendiary their lovemaking had be
en. He had far more to give than what he’d offered to her. And she wouldn’t sign on to a relationship that made it easy for someone she cared about to walk away from her again. Her mother’s defection had shown her how much that could level her.

  “There’s no need to rush only to have regrets later,” she assured him, needing to end this conversation and put distance between them before he saw how much his suggestion had rattled her. How much it tweaked the foolish feelings she’d developed for him. “We can communicate long-distance and arrange a time for you to meet Matthew. Maybe one day, when he’s a little older, he can visit Montana and meet all of his father’s friends.”

  She wanted that for Mattie. He deserved to see for himself how much his father had been loved and respected by the Mesa Falls owners, Alec notwithstanding.

  “One day? Nicole, I’m serious about wanting to meet him sooner than that.” His gray eyes were sincere. Hurt, even? “I’d like to spend some time getting to know him.”

  Her fingers gripped the leather upholstery to keep from reaching across the car for him. She couldn’t bear to look into those gray depths and see feelings that he hadn’t shared with her before. Feelings that—she reminded herself—were about her nephew. Not her.

  Still, she wouldn’t hold her misplaced love for Desmond against him. And yes, she knew it was love because it hurt so much to think about walking away from him. But she needed to do just that, sooner rather than later, to save herself an even deeper heartache sure to come from letting herself see an answering feeling in him that wasn’t there.

  “Of course you can see him.” She conceded the point, wanting Matthew to know Desmond even if she couldn’t be a part of his life anymore. “I will make sure that happens. Maybe at his school, where he’s most comfortable.”

  Matthew was even more comfortable at home, with her, but no matter how much she loved her sister’s son, she wouldn’t be able to bear memories of Desmond in her house with them. Just imagining it for a moment threatened to make her throw her arms around his neck and ask him to reconsider his refusal to be a father.

  His refusal to let her close to him.

  Desmond started to speak, perhaps just to thank her, but the tears burning the backs of her eyelids were too hot. Too imminent.

  For the second time that day, she had to excuse herself.

  “I’m sorry, Desmond. I can’t finish this right now.” Levering open the passenger door of his SUV, she blinked away the worst of the coming flood. “I need to pack my things. It would be best if I return home now.”

  Thirteen

  “It’s strange being back here,” Weston Rivera observed from the top bunk of a double dorm room at Dowdon School shortly before the anniversary gala fundraiser was due to begin.

  Seated next to a window overlooking the grounds of their former boarding school, Desmond sipped his bourbon and tried not to ruin everyone else’s evening with his sour mood. It was strange enough for him being anywhere without Nicole, but she’d returned to San Jose a week and a half ago, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since. He missed her so much more than he would have ever expected.

  Desmond glanced from Weston’s tuxedo-clad legs hanging over the edge of the bunk to where Miles finished the knot in his bow tie at a mirror mounted over a study desk. Then his gaze continued to Gage doing pull-ups on the door frame between the en suite bath and the rest of the room, the New Zealander’s breath whooshing out each time his chin reached the top of the door. He hadn’t even put a shirt on yet.

  Jonah Norlander was dressed and ready for the gala, the new father finishing up a video call with his wife and baby daughter on the far side of the room, rounding out the five friends who had flown in to support their alma mater and show the press their unity in condemning Alec Jacobsen. The story had leaked about the stolen game, and Alec’s fall from grace had been swift and well publicized. Fortunately, the public seemed to feel almost as deceived and outraged as the Mesa Falls partners, so the backlash had landed squarely on Alec’s shoulders. Business remained good at Mesa Falls and the partners were researching the best way to buy out Alec’s share.

  Questions about Zach had followed, with reporters racing to uncover the most facts first. Public opinion about Alonzo Salazar had shifted to the favorable when it was revealed his tell-all book had been an attempt to provide financial support for Zach’s fatherless child. The gaming community was leading the way in championing Alonzo since interest in Zach’s brief life—and his heir—was rabid now that his original drawings has been released. Nicole had issued a statement requesting privacy for her family, and it seemed to have been respected. Desmond had phoned Matthew’s school to inquire if they wanted private security to help keep the boy and his classmates safe, but they’d assured him that they had all the necessary measures in place.

  Making Desmond unnecessary there, too. Just like he’d been with Nicole. The empty space inside him yawned wider. Had it only been ten days since he’d seen her? It felt like ten years, every day dragging on forever. He’d been useless at the casino the week before, unable to think about anything but her.

  “Damn right it’s strange being back here,” Gage announced as he finished the pull-ups and jumped to the floor. “The whole place shrank since we were kids.” He toed the bottom bunk where he used to sleep. “I don’t think I’d even fit in that thing now.”

  “If you ask me,” Miles added, finishing his bow tie and turning away from the mirror, “it’s good to be here tonight with people I know are my real friends. No more knives in our backs.”

  Weston leaped to the floor with a thud and scooped up the champagne bottle out of the ice bucket that someone from the school had delivered earlier as a thank-you for their donation. “I was going to say I’d drink to that, but I think it calls for something more potent. Gage, where are you hiding that bourbon?”

  Desmond lifted the bottle from the arm of his chair and told himself to get with the program for his friends’ sake. He might not have a knife in his back anymore thanks to Alec’s arrest on the charge of harassing and hacking Chiara Campagna, but the hole in Desmond’s chest still gaped thanks to Nicole. A sure sign she’d affected him far more deeply than he’d allowed himself to believe at first.

  “Right here.” Desmond passed the bottle to Wes. “I’ve already helped myself.”

  Jonah ambled over to join them as glasses were procured from the catering cart that had delivered the champagne. While his friends laughed, poured and passed the bottle, Desmond tried to dial in on the evening, even though he didn’t feel much like celebrating when he hadn’t heard a word from Nicole in ten days. He’d tried to give her space after he’d screwed up with that ill-advised marriage proposal. Even in his cluelessness, he’d read the misstep in her lovely features right away.

  He’d hurt her, and that killed him.

  And it hit him in a flash why he missed her so much, why he was at such loose ends. He understood why that pained him so much, because it turned out he’d fallen for her in spite of all his best precautions to make sure that didn’t happen. The feeling made him want to surge to his feet and find her, fundraiser be damned.

  He started to rise from the chair, then hesitated. Looking back on that final conversation with her, he couldn’t help but wonder why it had hurt her, too? Was there even the smallest chance she’d developed feelings like the ones that had taken his legs out from under him?

  Even if by some incredible coincidence she had, that didn’t alleviate his biggest concern. I don’t think Matthew deserves a figurehead father who isn’t really interested in the role. Nicole had never been so right about anything. How could he be a father to Matthew—even if Nicole cared enough for Desmond to reconsider—when he didn’t have the slightest idea how to be a father? He’d had the worst role model on the planet.

  His heart grew heavier than ever. Love was supposed to make things better, wasn’t it? Apparently n
ot.

  “Desmond, you’re missing the toast, man.” Miles’s distinctive voice rasped the words as he leveled a glance at him. The others all had their glasses poured and lifted for a toast. “Get your glass over here now, then put yourself out of your misery and call Nicole afterward.”

  Straightening his jacket, Desmond joined the circle in the middle of the floor where they used to have epic Friday night wrestling matches.

  “Clairvoyant now?” Desmond asked as he raised his drink.

  Miles shook his head and—fortunately for him—didn’t crack a smile. “More like I had that same expression on my face when Chiara left my ass to go back to Los Angeles a few weeks ago, and it wasn’t a good look then, either.”

  Desmond recalled all too well. And somehow the guy had won her back, but Miles didn’t understand everything that kept Desmond from being the right man for Nicole. With an effort, he shoved that aside long enough to focus on his friends.

  “You’re right.” Desmond looked around the circle, meeting the eyes of each man there. “Tonight is about remembering Zach and how many good times we had. He left a hell of a legacy for a guy whose time was too short, and it’s on us to celebrate what he gave us.”

  No one spoke, and he knew every person there was remembering how Zach had touched their lives. For Desmond, it had meant getting free of his abusive father. And his mom getting free, too.

  “To Zach,” Miles echoed a moment later, lifting his glass.

  “And Salazar,” Wes added, raising his. “No way we would have weathered the aftermath to stand here and drink to Zach tonight without him.”

  “Best father I ever had,” Gage quipped, since his elitist old man had always made it clear how much Gage disappointed him. “I’ll drink to that.”