I should have followed my gut and looked into it, but instead, I had chosen to pay her so she’d shut the hell up.
It’s for Jamie, I had thought. In the end, it’s the right thing to do.
But she’d never given Jamie or Avery a dime. I felt sure of that now, despite only knowing them for a few days. Garrett’s friend would provide proof soon enough. Although, it wasn’t Avery’s honesty I wanted to know more about now but Jean’s secret life.
Where did all that money go?
12
Avery
Wyatt Mershano was shirtless.
In my backyard.
Playing with Jamie.
My brain understood this, but my mouth seemed frozen in an open position, refusing the words I needed to say. Dinner. Is. Ready.
Three words.
Simple.
Why couldn’t I shout them from the back door?
Wyatt laughed at something Jamie said, further dropping my jaw. I knew a decent body existed beneath the clothes, but a glistening six-pack in the early evening sun hadn’t been part of my initial consideration.
It would certainly be ingrained in my memory now.
All that tan skin rippled as he moved, showcasing an athletic form crafted by God himself. I leaned against the door frame, just as I had last night outside Jamie’s room, and shamelessly watched Wyatt jog to the ball.
My lips tingled with the memory of our kiss. I wanted to experience it again… and more. His abs would be fun to explore with my tongue, especially that little dip by his hip bone.
Mmm. Yes, please.
Electricity hummed through my veins, urging me to do something dangerous.
One night.
Not a good idea.
Who the hell cares with a body and a face like that?
Fair enough. I drew my thumb across my bottom lip as I considered all the ways I’d enjoy him. His dark eyes met mine, as if sensing my thoughts, and his mouth quirked at the corner.
He’d definitely caught me admiring him.
Oh well. The man was beautiful, and he knew it. Hence the saunter toward me now.
“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice deep and sensual.
“Yes.” No point in denying it. Dinner was probably cold now. Maybe we could heat it up on his flat, hot stomach.
He held my gaze as he bent to pick up his shirt from the ground. His comment about a striptease the other day came back in a flash. I’d definitely be up for that with the way he moved—so sensuous and confident.
Wyatt stopped in front of me, still shirtless. “You’re welcome to another one later, sweetheart.”
“You two are being we-ord.” Jamie pushed his way between us. “I’m hungry.”
“He’s hungry,” Wyatt repeated, grinning. Then he cocked his head to the side. “What about you?”
I looked him up and down, emboldened by his flirtation. “Starved.” This time, I winked at him and wandered inside after Jamie.
Wyatt’s chuckle followed me, stirring butterflies in my belly.
I’m so screwed.
I nearly gave in to him last night. Had he not given me the space to think, I would have probably started stripping in the hallway and happily gone to his bed.
And regretted it in the morning.
Maybe.
I shook my head and focused on finding water for the boys while they washed up for dinner. They were both seated at the table by the time I turned around. I was only slightly disappointed to find Wyatt wearing his shirt.
Okay, more like full-on disappointed, but all that exposed skin would have me wanting to eat him instead of dinner. Better to hide the temptation.
Jamie dug in without preamble, mumbling his approval while Wyatt and I ate in silence. It wasn’t so much awkward as it was peaceful. Almost as if we did this every night.
Could it be that easy?
No.
This was only temporary. Two months. Then who knew what would happen next.
Proving Wyatt to be an unfit father wasn’t going to happen if the last two days were anything to go by. Despite the bad-boy façade he put on, he knew exactly how to talk to his son.
They were bonding faster than I could ever have anticipated. Maybe because Jamie needed a father figure in his life, or maybe because their souls already understood each other.
I couldn’t compete with that. I loved Jamie more than anything and considered him mine, but he wasn’t. Not fully. And he never would be now that Wyatt had entered our lives.
I set my fork down, no longer hungry.
“You all right?” Wyatt asked, his expression radiating concern.
“Yeah, just tired.” Not exactly a lie. Thinking about our kiss in the hallway had kept me up half the night. I shook my head and forced a smile. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach.”
“Hmm.” He picked up his empty plate and stood. “Then I’ll do the dishes while you relax.”
“Oh, no, you—”
“It wasn’t a request,” he interjected. “You done, little man?”
“Yep!” He’d even finished all his vegetables without me forcing him. Not bad.
Wyatt grinned at his son and grabbed Jamie’s plate. “I’ll come back for yours, Avery. Just in case you want to eat more.” He wandered off to the kitchen with me gaping after him.
What just happened?
“I like him,” Jamie announced in one of his not-so-quiet whispers.
“Yeah?” It came out hoarse and startled. I snagged my glass, needing a drink. Too bad it wasn’t wine.
“Yep.” Jamie sounded quite pleased. “He plays with me. We’re friends. You should play with him, too.”
I choked on my water. He meant it innocently, but a not-so-innocent vision flashed behind my eyes. One that involved a very naked Wyatt.
“You’re acting we-ord, Auntie A. And you’re all red.” His frown puckered his brow. “Are you sick?”
I cleared my throat. “No, I’m okay. Just...” Yeah, I had nothing else to say on that. “So you like him, huh?”
“Yep.” His eyes brightened with his tone. “I think he’s my new best friend ’cause he’s older and knows stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Like how to ride bikes. And kick the ball sup-per far. Oh! And he reads real good.” He tapped his jaw. “Can rebel friend read to me again tonight? ’Cause I like his voices.”
I like his voice, too. “You’ll need to ask him.” And what was that about riding bikes?
“ ’Kay.” Jamie hopped off his chair and ran to the kitchen to tug on Wyatt’s shirt.
“What’s up, little man?” he asked, his lips curling in amusement.
“Can you read again tonight? Pleeaasseeee?” He bounced a little with the words, and I knew he was giving Wyatt his best begging face.
“What’d Aunt Avery say?” He glanced at me with the question.
“To ask you,” Jamie said, exasperated. “Pleeassse?”
“If she says it’s okay, then I’d be happy to read to you again.”
“She says it’s okay,” I told them both. But unlike last night, I’d avoid listening. No way did I want to get caught in the hallway again. I stood and took my plate over to Wyatt at the sink. “Thank you for cleaning up.”
“You cooked. It’s only fair.” He winked and went back to his task.
Jamie tugged on my hand and asked to watch his favorite movie of the month. Again. For the fifteenth or thirtieth time. I’d lost count. There was no sense in asking him to change his mind, so I rolled with it and turned on what he wanted.
With him settled into his favorite seat, I wandered into my office to review some emails from yesterday. My work projects weren’t behind yet, but I felt the deadlines sneaking up on me. I would be pulling some late nights this week.
There were a few items I could tick off the list now, though.
I cracked my knuckles and went to work and was surprised when Jamie popped into my office to kiss me good night. A glance at the
clock showed I’d spent two hours updating the project proposals from two departments.
Damn.
I’d completed a lot, but time really did pass by quickly. After a hug and a kiss with Jamie and assurance from Wyatt that he would handle the nightly routine, I set about sending a final email. Then I forced myself to shut the computer down and enjoy what was left of my Saturday night.
Adult time on the couch.
Wine.
Popcorn.
Yes, please.
I crept upstairs, past Jamie’s room, where Wyatt was still reading, and changed into a pair of yoga pants. My tank top from earlier suited the evening just fine, so I kept it on and quietly slipped by them again on my way back downstairs.
Five minutes later, I was curled into the corner of the couch with a bucket of freshly popped deliciousness in my lap and a glass of wine on the end table.
A scroll through my saved programs brought up the show I’d been binge-watching—or trying to, anyway—and selected the next episode.
So much better than Jamie’s current sing-along obsession.
Eye candy, mystery, and action.
The perfect way to unwind for the evening. Finally.
13
Wyatt
After a much-needed shower, I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt. If my shipment didn’t arrive Monday, I’d need to venture out for more clothes and then figure out how to use Avery’s washer and dryer.
Living out of hotels most of my life had some benefits, like laundry service. Room service was also another key advantage, but I did enjoy Avery’s home-cooked meal earlier.
Dinner drifted through my mind with a frown. Everything had been fine until it wasn’t. Avery had flirted, even smiled. Then her playful side had just disappeared.
Whatever thought had killed the seductive air floating between us was about to be challenged. Because I wanted her. I shouldn’t. But I did.
I wasn’t the kind of man who ignored my needs, even when reason demanded me to. Perhaps that, even more so, was why I craved her. It was wrong, which made it far more fun.
I swept my fingers through my damp hair on my way down the stairs.
Avery glanced at me as I approached her on the couch, and ran her eyes over my attire before training them studiously on the television.
The faint hint of a blush touching her cheeks suggested she liked my casual outfit but not nearly as much as she enjoyed me shirtless outside. Interest had practically oozed from her from the back door, a look I understood well.
I settled beside her without a word and stole a piece of popcorn from the dish in her lap. She shot me a glare as I tossed it into my mouth.
“Sure, you can have some of my popcorn.” The hint of irritation in her tone caused me to smile.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” I draped my arm over the couch behind her head and leaned in to grab another kernel with my free hand. She jerked the bowl away, forcing me to reach across her to complete the action. It put my face beside hers, right where it belonged. “There are more polite ways to ask a man to cuddle, Avery.”
She sputtered as I guided the dish back to her legs and grabbed a handful of her snack.
“There are more bags in the kitchen. Go heat up your own.” Her nostrils flared, and her cheeks reddened. My sudden nearness appeared to make her uncomfortable. Too bad. She invited me over with that stunt, and I had no intention of moving now.
“I spent the afternoon reorganizing your garage and the early evening entertaining Jamie, I cleaned up after dinner, and I tucked Jamie in for the night. And now you want me to heat up my own popcorn?” I tsked and shook my head in mock disapproval. “I suppose that, next, you’ll tell me I have no say over the television choice, either, right?” Not that I minded her pick of shows. I just wanted to rile her up. “What’s a man have to do around here for a little gratitude?”
I meant it completely in jest, but her eyes rounded in mortification.
“Oh God, I’m being really rude. I’m… I’m not used to sharing. And this is all… What I mean is, I’m not… This isn’t…” She groaned low in her throat and shut her eyes. Her face darkened to a delectable shade of cherry red that stirred all manner of inappropriate thought.
I lowered my arm from the couch to her shoulders and ran my thumb up the column of her neck. “You’re adorable when flustered.” And adorable in general. “And you’re not being rude. Just protective of your popcorn.” I snagged another piece while I spoke and brought it up to her lips. “It is delicious.” She opened her mouth, accepting the kernel.
Smoky blue eyes met mine as she chewed and swallowed. I repeated the motion, this time dragging the popcorn across her lower lip first before sliding it inside. She licked the salty area slowly, her gaze holding mine the entire time.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For?”
“Everything.” Bemusement entered her features, and she shook her head, breaking the intensity of our eye contact. “This is all… bizarre. I worked tonight. On a Saturday. While you watched Jamie. I can’t tell you the last time, if ever, that’s happened.”
“Jean never watched him for you?”
She laughed and picked up her wine to take a long sip. “No. When Jean visited, she spent most of her time playing on her phone. She didn’t seem to know how to act around Jamie.”
I nodded, considering. “He mentioned earlier that she never played with him.”
“No. She barely spoke to him.”
I studied Avery’s profile as she finished her wine. A week ago, I would have called her a liar or laughed at this whole charade. But four days in, her company had me reconsidering everything I knew. There was a sincerity about her that Jean definitely lacked, not to mention Jamie’s obvious feelings.
That report from Garrett’s contact couldn’t come fast enough. Once I had it, things would become even more complicated because I would have to determine the next steps. Letting Jamie go again wasn’t an option, but I couldn’t exactly take him from Avery, either. Not if her feelings were real.
I wanted to believe her, but the last Perry woman I trusted burned me.
She’s not Jean.
No, she’s definitely not.
I surveyed her ample breasts, flat stomach, and legs. Avery Perry was all mature woman—in the best way—and very much my type.
I always did enjoy playing with fire.
She set her empty wine glass aside and placed the bowl on the table. “I need to get another drink. Do you want anything?” she asked as my arm slid to her lower back.
I curled my hand around her hip. “Yes.”
Avery faced me with a raised brow. “Water?”
“No.”
“Wine?”
“I don’t drink alcohol.”
She swallowed, her gaze dropping to my mouth. “You don’t?” she whispered.
“No.”
Her brow furrowed. “But, the, uh…” She trailed off, but I knew what she’d been about to say.
“I warned you already not to believe everything you read, sweetheart.” I played the media like an instrument, using them to help destroy my reputation because it pissed off Jonah. And pissing off Jonah made me very, very happy. “I haven’t touched alcohol in over four years, Avery. Anything you’ve read or seen is either old or me putting on an act.”
“Why?” she asked, her gaze finally returning to mine.
“Why do I put on an act? Or why don’t I drink?” They were two entirely different answers.
“Both.”
Of course she would say that. Talk about a buzzkill. I relaxed into the couch with a sigh, my hand dropping to the seat cushion near her ass. “Those are two very heavy topics, Avery.”
She angled her body toward mine by drawing up her knee and using the armrest to support her back. It left my hand near her upper thigh, a place I wanted to explore more thoroughly, but it seemed she preferred to talk.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
; No, I supposed she wouldn’t. “Let’s just say I enjoy irritating Jonah Mershano. And I don’t drink because I prefer to keep my inhibitions under control. Particularly, after I lost them with your sister.” And wasn’t that a nice dose of reality for us both?
Avery’s lips parted, then closed, then parted again. Normally, I liked the tongue-tied look on her. But not now.
I withdrew my arm, placing my hands in my lap, the mood completely killed. Thinking about Jean did that to me. Avery being her sister didn’t help matters.
What is with me and these Perry women? Why do I constantly fall for their antics?
“How did you meet Jean?” Avery asked softly.
She wanted to go for a trip down memory lane? Fine. We could do that.
“We met at Harvard while I was in law school. She and her little sorority friends used to hang around our house on the weekends. We were just acquaintances at first. She liked to flirt. I didn’t mind, and she spent a lot of time trying to get in my pants.”
Blunt words, but true nonetheless.
“Alas, contrary to what the media says about me, I am actually very selective about who I fuck.” I gave her a pointed look with the statement. “And your sister was too young for me, something I told her often. She eventually settled for just being friends.” Or so I thought.
I reached around Avery for another handful of popcorn and ignored the shocked expression on her pretty face.
“Harvard?” she asked, her eyebrows in her hairline. “My sister convinced you she was a student at Harvard?”
I snorted. “No. She claimed to go to Boston College.” One of the many things I later learned was an outright lie. “Her sorority friends never said otherwise, so I didn’t think much of it, and she never gave me a reason to look into her background.”
I shoved the kernels into my mouth, chewing harder than I needed to. Rehashing my history with Jean reminded me why I didn’t trust anyone. Not that I ever really trusted her, either. It was more that I’d led a carefree existence, not giving a fuck about anyone or anything apart from myself. I just never expected her or anyone to betray me in the way she had.
The Rebel’s Redemption: Mershano Empire Series Page 9