by Zoey Parker
Each situation required a different approach. And in Lucas Mueller’s case, the guy had to be expecting a visit from the Sokolovs. Trent could use this to his advantage if his unexpected entry were used against him.
He pushed the door in until it hung fully open, showcasing the impressive black and white checkered floor of the foyer. A large staircase led to the second floor, a glittering chandelier dangling from the second story ceiling.
And in the distance… voices. Angry voices. And then, without a doubt: “Well fuck you, bitch!”
Trent smirked, shutting the door behind him. Must be the happy newlyweds. He followed the sound of voices up the stairs, his boots clomping up each red-carpeted step. The bickering grew louder, insults forming more clearly.
“How dare you call me a bitch!” Trademark Wisconsin accent in the lady’s voice. “After all I’ve done for you? After all these fucking disgusting parties? I deserve to treat myself!”
“Treat yourself is one thing!” Lucas’ voice shouted.
Trent rounded the corner, and there they were – inside the master bedroom. Sunlight spilled in through the large, elegant windows. Lucas’s wife leaned over the bed, the tight apples of her ass well-defined under a pencil skirt, as she gathered up some loose papers. “This is fucking bleeding me dry! Like I have any money to spare!”
Time to break up the party.
Trent rapped a knuckle against the door frame. The two of them spun to face him. His wife gasped.
“Who the fuck are you?” she demanded.
From the other side of the room, Lucas deflated. He must have known exactly who Trent was… or at least where he’d come from.
“Just your friendly bill collector,” Trent said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He sent a wicked smile to Lucas’ wife. “And who might you be?”
“Honey—” Lucas began.
Lucas’ lady softened a bit, glancing at her husband. “I’m Darla. Lucas, what’s going on?”
“This is…” A breath escaped him as he came around the bed, his gaze darting between Trent and his wife. Lucas’ throat bobbed, and a moment later, his eyes misted over.
“Lucas?” Darla’s brow creased.
“This is… Matthew.” Lucas placed a hand over his chest, then he hiccupped. A contained sob.
Darla’s eyes went wide behind him as Lucas came up to Trent with arms outstretched. “My son. My long-lost son.”
Chapter Five
Trent knew how to keep his cool during cons. At the very least, the most important thing was to wait it out. See where it led. And not to out himself as the clueless one.
“Yeah.” He cracked a smile, welcoming Lucas’ hug. Questions swirled in his mind as the guy wrapped his arms around him and sobbed – probably acting, but what if it wasn’t? – into his shoulder.
“You have a son?” Darla asked.
“Aren’t I your dad?” Lucas cried into his shoulder.
“I call him Lucas,” Trent said, the words jumping past his lips. “But he’s my dad. I mean, biologically.”
“And legally,” Lucas said, pulling back a little.
Lucas’ blue eyes zapped Trent to attention. There was understanding there – and a directive.
Play along.
Trent’s gut told him to go with it. And at the very least, they both had blue eyes. Maybe it would help them pull it off.
“How could you never tell me you had a son?” Darla demanded.
Lucas sighed, gripping Trent on the shoulder. His tears had magically dried. “Honestly. I thought he was long gone. And look how lucky I am that he’s come back to find me!”
“Yep. It was time,” Trent said. “Dad.”
“Where have you been all these years?” Lucas asked, shaking him slightly with each word.
“Juuust…” Trent clicked his tongue, searching for some appropriate answer. Something both vague yet somehow defining, “Hanging around. Sorta got… lost. You know?”
“Yeah. I bet.” Lucas huffed, then hugged him again. “You wanted to get lost after that mission’s trip I forced you on.”
Trent’s mind reeled. This was getting weird, but fine.
“I told you I didn’t want the Jesus stuff. I just kinda took my time making my way back.” He flashed what he hoped was a convincing smile Darla’s way.
“You sent him to Jesus camp or something?” she asked.
“No, it was a…” Lucas trailed off, waving his hand. “It was a bad idea is what it was.” He shook his head. “I was hoping you’d come by today. So you could see my – our – home. So you could meet Darla. My lovely wife. We just got married three months ago.”
“Wow.” Trent stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you. Stepmom.”
Darla stiffened, but a strange sort of smile crossed her face. Her gaze raked up and down his body as they shook hands, her hand extra limp in his grip. “Never thought I’d hear anyone call me that. Especially at this age.”
“Darla, don’t flatter yourself,” Lucas muttered.
“And how old are you?” Trent asked.
“Thirty-six,” she said with a purr, sending a glare toward Lucas. “Except this asshole makes me feel like I’m sixty-six most days.”
“What?” Lucas snapped. “With how much money I pump into you, and your fucking tits, you’re going to—”
“He’s a little hotheaded today.” Darla slinked closer to Trent.
“Darla,” Lucas said, a definite edge in his tone, “let me reconnect with my son, okay?” To Trent, Lucas pasted on a wide smile, one that showed off the silver filling in the back of his mouth. “Now, son. What’s new? Any grandchildren, or new homes I should know about?”
Trent tilted his head from side to side. “Oh… you know… nothing mu—”
“Don’t be coy! You told me you got married last year.” Lucas nudged him. “What’s her name again?”
Trent swallowed hard. He couldn’t think of any other name. There was only one that came to his lips. “Sam. Samantha, actually.”
Lucas snapped his fingers. “That’s right! She sounded so beautiful in the letter you sent. My lord. Samantha. You didn’t bring her with you, did you?”
Trent scrubbed at his jaw, looking between the hopeful Lucas and the bewildered Darla. “Uh, no, actually. Not for the first visit after so long. I thought that you and I could… you know… reconnect.”
This whole thing seemed so obviously fake. He couldn’t believe that Darla was buying even a little bit of it. But more than that, he couldn’t figure out why Lucas wanted him to pose as his long-lost son.
Unless the guy is crazy – maybe he really believes it?
It had to be related to the debt he owed to the Sokolovs. The whole thing was nuts. But still, he had to stick it out. At least long enough to corner Lucas and shake him down.
“I need to meet her, you know,” Lucas said, sending him a strange smile. “Before I sign over that trust fund. The one that I’ve had set aside for you since you were born. You gained access to it when you turned twenty-five. It just needs my signature to make it yours.”
Lucas’ words rang through him like harmony. Even still, the whole thing didn’t make sense. Why would Lucas want to hand over money to a stranger?
“Sounds like a plan… Dad.” Trent forced a grin.
He could almost count on one hand how many times he’d said that word growing up. With an unknown father and a mostly disinterested mother raising him, Trent’s only real male role models came in an unsavory rotating door of his mother’s temporary boyfriends. She still lived in Southeast Wisconsin. He’d skipped town and come to a big city the first chance he could get – at age sixteen. He’d only been back to visit her twice, and she didn’t seem to mind too much.
Which made this whole parental farce all the more ironic for him.
“Why don’t you two come over for dinner tomorrow?” Lucas suggested, clapping Trent on the back. “I’d love to meet Sammy. Can I call her Sammy? She already feels like family.”
Trent shrugged. “I’ll check with her. But it should be good.”
Lucas nodded exuberantly. “Great. Well, thanks for the surprise visit, son. Such a treat. Darla, I’m gonna walk him out.”
He guided Trent out of the bedroom and down the hallway, headed for the staircase. Once they’d pounded down half the stairs, Lucas leaned in.
“I need you to help me,” he said, though the words came out as more of a hiss. “And there will be a big payout if you do. As soon as the paperwork is set, we can drop the charade. Meet us at Bepo tomorrow at seven p.m. Dress clothes. Got it?”
Trent nodded as Lucas all but pushed him toward the front door. Now that Darla wasn’t watching, apparently, his fatherly love had totally dissipated.
He let himself out of the house quietly, running over the past half hour in his head as he drove back into town. Trees were in all phases of brilliant color change as he followed the winding roads from the outskirts into the city center. Clearly, Lucas knew who he was – why else would he rope him into the plan so effortlessly? But if there was a payout involved, Trent wanted in on that.
He just needed to find a fake wife by tomorrow at seven. And he had a pretty good idea of where to start looking.
Chapter Six
“Man, Sam. You’ve got resting bitch face really bad today.”
Sam huffed, straightening as she rifled through some patient files. It seemed the scowl on her face just wouldn’t go away. There was enough on her mind to prompt a scowl – she just didn’t want the rest of the world to know what a tizzy her insides were in.
“You know I can’t control it.” Sam sighed, clicking through screens on her computer.
She’d had a jam-packed morning of listless patients and nerve-wracked co-workers. That alone was enough to set her on edge. Add to it the unresolved hunt for her father’s non-existent fortunes… and the unresolved fire between her legs… and she was just a hair shy of a hot mess.
“Everything okay on the home front?” Her receptionist Krissi swiveled around in her office chair, tilting her head.
Her wide brown eyes were soft and concerned. They’d started as coworkers but now were best friends. Krissi, over all her colleagues, would be able to sense something was truly off in Sam’s world.
Sam picked at a loose string in her sweater, contemplating how much to reveal. Her other counselor colleague was in a room with a patient, and the waiting room was empty. If she were going to admit to anything, now was the time.
“My dad got into some trouble,” she said in a small voice. Krissi might be a best friend, but she didn’t know the true extent of the deep shit her family was in. “He’s always liked to gamble here and there. He’s always been very wealthy, so it was never an issue. But somewhere over the last couple of years… the here and there thing turned into a bad habit.”
Sam went on to tell Krissi how the family had found out – when her mother tried to use the bank card one day and got denied. That prompted a long string of questions, conversations, and eventually, admissions.
“We knew he owed a lot,” Sam said, swallowing back a wave of emotion. “But the other night I realized just how much. The family that took over his gambling debt – they sent someone to come rough me up.” She didn’t bother to tell Krissi what exactly roughing up entailed – nor that she’d enjoyed it more than not. No, those details didn’t belong in this story. Because Sam still wasn’t sure how to frame the whole thing. It seemed wrong to be so attracted to Trent. She was scared of him, sure. But it wasn’t only fear cycling inside of her.
“You should call the cops!” Krissi insisted.
“And say what? I got pushed around by a guy who I couldn’t even identify in a lineup? For something my dad did?”
Krissi deflated. “You need to do something—”
“I can’t.” Sam shook her head, turning back to her papers. “The police can’t help me. It’s not like my dad owes a bank money, remember. This is… private.” She didn’t want to say mafia, but the word was on the tip of her tongue. There was no polite way to say it other than ‘private’ and even then, it didn’t include the full, scary scope of the situation.
“But now it’s affecting you,” Krissi said, clearly upset on Sam’s behalf. This was why she was such a good friend. Whatever bothered Sam, bothered Krissi. “Will this guy come back to bother you?”
“I don’t know.” Sam almost wished he would. Just so she could feel that tantalizing heat at her side. Feel those rough fingers push inside her. The restrained aggression of it had sent her spiraling toward climax multiple times since yesterday evening, imagining and re-imagining what had happened while she tried to sleep. After waking up. While taking a shower. Each time, the orgasm was more powerful than the last, as she imagined what might have been after that scandalous fingering under the restaurant table. Imagining him pushing himself inside of her. Imagining him tearing her panties in two. A shiver raced through her.
“Maybe you should come stay with me then,” Krissi said. “If this guy could find you in a bar, then maybe—”
“I’ll be fine,” Sam insisted. “This is, after all, my dad’s drama. I think they just paid me a visit to make a point to my father.” She chewed on her lip while a tense silence filled the reception area.
A moment later, the door down the hall opened. Their colleague’s session was over. Krissi mimed zipping her lips and tossing the key. Sam smiled gratefully and buried herself in paperwork once more.
A half hour didn’t go by before Sam’s stomach was grumbling with anticipation for lunch. She checked her watch. Only fifteen more minutes to go. The bell on the front door chimed as a new arrival came into the office. Sam stayed focused on her computer tucked off to the side, trying to wrap up at least one patient file with her remaining time.
The sound of the sliding glass window filled the reception area as Krissi opened it up and greeted the newcomer.
“Hi, do you have an appointment?”
“Nope.” A gravelly voice sent shivers shooting through Sam’s body. She needed to focus on work, but everything in her body begged her to turn around and see who this person was. “I came for her.”
Silence drenched the reception area. Every cell of her body screamed turn around. She did – she couldn’t fight it.
There, in the window to the reception area, stood Trent.
Tall. Rugged. Handsome as sin. Those crystal-blue eyes zeroed in on her like she was part prize, part prey.
She swallowed hard.
Krissi sent her a severe look.
“Yeah. Hey. Wow.” She stood on shaky legs, heading for the door that led to the reception area. “Krissi, I got this.”
Krissi whispered at her as she passed, “Who is this man? Is he the guy you were telling me about?”
Sam didn’t answer. She just pushed through the door, barely glancing Trent’s way as she headed for the front door of the building. Whatever this social call was… she didn’t want anyone overhearing.
Once she pushed out into the crisp, late morning air, the sun blazing bright, Sam headed to a thicket of bushes in the front landscaping. She crossed her arms, steeling herself as she dared to look up at Trent.
“What are you doing here?”
His smile was pure heartbreaker. A dimple flashed. “Just wanted to say hi.”
“Oh yeah. I’m sure. I’m surprised you didn’t shove your fingers inside me the second you saw me.” Her cheeks heated up at her own words.
Trent’s smile only widened. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Shut up and tell me why you’re here.”
“Wanted to take you out to lunch.”
Sam scoffed. “Oh yeah? Is that how you normally do things? Assault a girl, then ask her out on a date?”
Trent narrowed his eyes, his smile falling slightly. “I’ll make a scene if that’s what you’re looking for. Or you can just tell your little office buddy in there you’ve got a lunch date, and we’ll go peacefully.”
&nbs
p; Sam’s nostrils flared as she looked him up and down. God damn him for being so sexy. Those perfectly distressed jeans clung to muscled thighs. His leather jacket hung open, revealing a plain black T-shirt. It wasn’t like he wore anything expensive or designer. He just radiated sexiness from every pore. He could be wearing a trash bag, and she would still find it hot.
“Fine. It’s my lunch break anyway, so let me get my things.”
She stormed back into the office. Once she burst into the reception area, Krissi was up and at her side, demanding answers.