Stealing First: (A Bad Boy Single Father Billionaire Novel)

by Weston Parker

  "Can I get you boys another round?" She winked at me and I nodded, as if I might be interested. I wasn't. Girls could sit on it and rotate. I'd fuck a bitch every once in a while, but I'd had my heart torn out so many times when I was younger that I had a flap on my chest to save me the cost of stitches.

  "Yeah. This one's on me, I guess." My brother walked up and pulled a seat up beside me.

  I reached over and patted his back, smiling. "Tough day at the office, old man?" I lifted an eyebrow and expected to have him start his rant about how half the guys they’d hired weren’t worth a shit.

  "Naw, Cindy is on her period and just won't relent. So not only am I not getting laid, but she’s mean like a fucking snake. It’s a great combination." Cole rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his blond hair. The roots were starting to show his true colors and even though I shouldn't, I just couldn't help myself.

  "Yeah, well, maybe if you'd just be your fucking self." I tugged at a small pinch of hairs on the side of his head as he popped my arm away. There was no way I was pouring salt in the wound and bringing to light the fact that his hair was turning prematurely grey as well.

  "Fuck off. Blonds have an easier time in life. I'm just trying to get mine." He smirked and turned to the other guys, clapping hands and greeting everyone.

  It was a tradition to meet at Billy's in Ocean Beach on Sunday afternoons and spend a few hours getting shit faced together. Most people did it on Friday's, which meant that Sunday evenings at the bar were open wide and the beer was free flowing. No crowded rooms or bitches dry humping my leg. It was bliss, and it was mine.

  "How's the hospital gig going? Still trying to score a night with the hot doctor in OBGYN, or did you finally give up? I mean, the woman obviously loves pussy, and that’s one thing you ain’t got, brother." Cole turned to me before picking up the cup of peanuts on the table in front of us.

  “Fuck you too. I ain’t the only one from what you just said.” I reached out and jerked the peanuts from him. "Don't eat those. Pinkie washed them off for anyone who was interested."

  Cole glanced at our buddy Pinkie as he wagged his eyebrows and pretended to swish something in his big-ass mouth. I laughed as Cole gagged. He was called Pinkie for a reason, the fucker had twenty tats and every damn one of them was pink.

  "Answer my question about the job, man." My brother pulled out his phone and turned it on silent before looking up at me and tilting his head a little.

  "It's a job, dude. I'm glad to have it, but it’s hard work for little pay. It’s boring as fuck most nights. Nothing happens in a hospital at night but a bunch of old bastards forgetting where they are and walking around naked. You ever seen an old man’s balls? It ain’t pretty. I’ve lost hope in being sexy after fifty."

  “Fifty? Fuck, Ian. You ain’t sexy now. Someone should tell you and help you get over the lie.” Pinky picked up a peanut and flicked it at me.

  I caught it and popped it in my mouth just to get a reaction. They all grimaced and turned away as I chuckled. It was good to be around the guys. Sundays were my favorite days of the week by far.

  One of the guys in the group started bitching about his girl and I stood up, stretching and turning to look back at Cole. "Let's go out on the patio. The sun's about to set and I want to see it."

  "You’re such a pussy." Cole stood and took our beers from the waitress before handing me mine and walking out on the deck beside me. A few girls sat to our left, the gaggle of them seeming to take notice of us, but my attention was on the big guy next to me.

  "I'm going to start putting in applications for something a little less hectic and more dangerous I guess. My job’s either boring as shit, or a hot mess because of the crazy fuckers that get brought in on meth or cocaine or some other fucked-up drug. Those guys are constant and the hospital has to treat them, but it's me who has to hold them down half the time while they're vomiting, shitting themselves and twitching half to death. As sad as it is, I’d rather be in a full on panic due to them than sitting on my ass in the cardiology wing, guarding the dying from the living."

  Cole shook his head, the look of disgust on his face a mirror to my feelings. "That's not good. I think I might have something if you're interested."

  "Yeah? Why didn't you say something earlier?" I pushed my shoulder against his as I turned to glance out at the water. The beauty of the sunset pulled me from the moment, but it wasn’t the time to get starry-eyed. I needed a fresh start, something more fitting for my stage and station in life. I wanted to be like Cole without the responsibility and wife. Wait… I was already.

  "It's not exactly your kinda job and honestly, I don't think you'll take it, but it’s high stakes. It's security detail." He took a long drink of his beer as I growled.

  "I'm down, depending on the money and who I'm detailing." I followed suit and emptied half the bottle before taking a breath.

  A blond moved in between us, her friends watching with anticipation from the large table just a few feet from us.

  "Hi. I'm Sandy."

  "Hi, Sandy. I'm talking with my brother right now. How about when we're done, I come talk to you and your friends and see who's up for a little late night wrestling?" I nodded at her, putting on my best ‘come fuck me’ smile.

  Her eyes widened and she giggled, the beer having done half the work for me. "Oh, yeah sure. That sounds... hot."

  "Good. Now run along and tell your friends you have plans to bend over for the big guy with all the tats later." I popped her butt and she giggled again, running toward her table as they erupted in laughter.

  "Why did you have to give the poor girl hope?" Cole turned and looked out at the water. "I swear you're going to get payback from your disrespect of women when you have a daughter."

  "Firstly, I'm not having kids, and secondly, she wanted what I gave her. A bit of juicy gossip and nothing else."

  "You're going to take her home and fuck her, no doubt." Cole lifted the beer to his lips and turned toward the women as they continued to get louder.

  "Sure. Why not? I'm an ass-grown man and a release might do me good. I've been a bit tense lately."

  "Masturbate." Cole turned back to me. "You're not good with fucking and leaving. You'll fall in love and the floozy will break your heart."

  "You make me feel like the tender flower that I am."

  Cole laughed loudly and lifted his beer toward mine. "The job's protection detail for Senator Moore's college-aged daughter. She's home for the summer and he's concerned with her being here in San Diego. He's looking for someone that he can trust to stay with the girl twenty-four seven."

  "With no days off? Fuck no."

  "You'd get Sundays off. He actually asked me about you applying for the job."

  "Me?" I jerked back as surprise rushed through me. "Why in the world would he ask about me? Has he not seen my rap sheet?"

  "Yeah, he actually has, but you saving his ass at the event a few weeks back gave you his nice shiny seal of approval. His only concern was whether you would try and hit on the girl."

  I snorted and tapped my beer bottle against the railing in front of us as the sun began to set. The sky burst into crimson and dark yellows, stealing my breath for a minute and causing me to forget where I was.

  "Did you hear me?" Cole popped me in the arm with his empty bottle.

  "About hitting on the girl?"

  "Yeah. I told him not to worry."

  "Good. There's nothing to worry about. I'm not interested in bleeding for anyone for a long time." I shrugged. "I'm sure she's as fake as the rest of these chicks that snuggle up to me every time I leave the house."

  "It's the big bad-ass sign you have tattooed to your fucking forehead."

  I brushed my hand along my face and forced my brow to contract.

  "Me? Naw... I'm as sweet as a kitten. Speaking of pussy’s..." I finished my beer and leaned over, pointing to the busty blond who had approached us moments ago. "Sandy... come here baby. Let's get our night started."

/>   "Oh fuck. You're not really gonna..." Cole stood up and turned to me.

  "I am. How much is the gig?"

  "It's for the entirety of the summer and it's around ten grand a month."

  My jaw dropped. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

  That was three times what I was making at the hospital. I could work all summer and take the fall off completely. That would really give me time to find the right job.

  "Yeah. You want an interview?" Cole moved back as Sandy slipped in between us and snuggled up to the front of me.

  "Yeah. I want in." I glanced down at the girl, winking as she giggled at the hidden meaning behind my words.

  My brother lifted his hand and gave me a look.

  I shook it and glanced down at the girl. "Where you wanna do this, baby?"

  "How about at your place?" She slid her hands up my chest, purring like a cat.

  "Naw... how about the women's bathroom as you walk into the bar? It's a single room with a lock." I leaned down and brushed my nose along her cheek, breathing in.

  She smelled good and a quick fuck wouldn't hurt anyone.

  "Yeah," she whispered and turned, capturing my lips with hers.

  I meant as much to her as she meant to me. Absolutely nothing.

  “Really? Shit.” My brother turned and walked toward the bar as I leaned down and brushed my nose by hers. She was cute, and would most certainly do a good job of waxing my cock for half an hour.

  “Oh yeah. Really.” I grabbed her hand and moved us into the bar, hoping like hell I could keep the good guy in my head asleep long enough to enjoy myself. He’d been a pain in the ass far too many times lately, and something told me that tonight wouldn’t be much different.

  Chapter 3

  Chloe

  The beach house in La Jolla was a bit much, but my father always did go off the deep-end in gift giving. I unpacked slowly, taking my time and ignoring the constant buzz of my phone. It was the group of girls I went to high school with, most of them friends with me simply because it gave them status and something to brag about.

  A soft sigh left me as I finished putting everything up. The big house was still basically empty after I unpacked. I should have invited some of the girls from UCLA to come down with me. There were two or three bedrooms, but each had multiple beds in them. It was going to be too quiet at night, and after watching horror movies all my life, I was sure to come up with a million ways to die by the end of the first night. It was an obsession I needed to get over.

  I checked the refrigerator to see that my father had paid someone to come pack it with all of my favorites. My childhood rushed past me, sickening me as it always did. All those years of growing up with nothing more than nannies and butlers to raise me. With enough snacks and presents dropped sporadically around the house I was supposed to be okay with not having a father.

  "He couldn't handle anything after mom died," I spoke quietly, the sound of my own voice comforting. It was the only consistent voice in my life.

  Picking up the phone, I dialed his number and swallowed the sadness that always seemed to sit at the edge of my world.

  "Pumpkin. You here?"

  "I am. Where are we meeting?" I picked the sticker off of a t-shirt that sat on the counter, a big card that said 'welcome home' on it. Another gift. Great.

  “I’ll be there shortly.” He dropped the call, thrusting me into silence again.

  “Right. See you soon,” I mumbled sarcastically and walked around the beach house until a horn honked outside.

  I grabbed my phone from the counter and called him. “Is that you outside?”

  "Yes. I'm sitting in the driveway of the beach house. Come on out and we'll go to that steak house you like that hangs over into the sea."

  "Sounds good. Be right out." I hung up and walked to the bathroom, dragging a brush through my long blond hair. I was a hot mess thanks to riding all the way from L.A. with the windows down. My father would comment on my appearance if I didn't spruce it up a little. Some days he seemed more willing to marry me off than simply have a real conversation that didn't revolve around my school or his career.

  I put on a little bit of mascara and some lip gloss and growled, "Steak house."

  I hated red meat, but he wouldn’t know that. He didn’t know anything about me, nor did he really want to. I’d given up on trying to have a real conversation with him before I could tie my own sneakers.

  Dinner would be comfortable and I'd placate him with a few stories from the past semester and then come back home and gorge on cupcakes and scary movies, though I shouldn’t. One was sure to kill me before the other.

  I grabbed my purse and walked out of the front door of the house. The back opened right up onto the beach, which was the best part of the place.

  The limo that sat in front of the house was a bit of a surprise. My father had several cars, but his silver Lexus was his guilty pleasure of choice. The stretch limo was a bit much, but I was sure he had an excuse for the extravagance. He always did.

  The driver got out and smiled at me, holding the door. "Miss Moore. How are you this evening?"

  "Good. Thank you." I lifted my nose a little, acting like they expected me to.

  "Pumpkin. Don't you look beautiful?" My father reached up and pulled me into a tight hug as the driver shut the door behind me. I was more surprised that the old man got out of the car than I was that he’d brought the thing. It seemed a little risky to be driving around in something that would draw attention to us no matter where we went.

  "Thanks, Dad." I moved to the seat beside him and worked on getting my seatbelt on before turning to pin him with a stare. "What's with the car? I thought we were trying to keep a low profile because of the death threats popping up everywhere?"

  "Yeah, but I thought it would be fun. It's been awhile since we've been on a father-daughter date, so I thought, why the hell not? Besides, we pay for the best protection in the world. Let the bad guys come. They won’t get too far." He smiled and I forced a tight smile myself.

  Why not was because it would draw attention our way no matter where we were. Not only that, but there were starving kids in the orphanage down the block, but let's ride in class.

  "Well, cool. If you’re comfortable with it, then I guess I am as well." I smiled and turned to ask him about his campaign trail, but his phone buzzed and he pulled it out and lifted his hand, silencing me like he had been doing my whole life.

  "I need to get this. Excuse me for a minute." He answered it before I could mutter a word.

  "Sure," I mumbled under my breath and pulled out my own phone, sinking down in the seat next to him and flipping through the various text messages I had.

  One was from Jeremy. "Hey pretty girl. Just seeing if you were going to be in town this weekend. I got concert tickets to T-swift and figured you might want to go. Let me know and I'll even buy you a hot dog."

  I rolled my eyes and laughed softly, unable to help myself. Where I might really enjoy seeing Taylor in concert, I knew without a doubt that Jeremy wouldn't. He was in his early thirties and still trying to act like he wasn't. It was too much.

  "What's funny?" My father turned toward me. I hadn't realized he was off the call.

  "Oh, just Jeremy asking me to a concert. I swear he thinks he's my age."

  "Chloe. You know I don't like you talking to him. Something is off about the guy." My father patted my leg. "Text him back and tell him no."

  I ruffled at the fact that my dad was telling me what to do and I was in my early twenties. I wanted to defy him just for the sake of doing it, but it wasn't worth the emotional energy. I would push back and he would remind me of my mother's death and the hardship he had as a single father trying to make not only my life better, but the world better for everyone.

  "Yep. I'll tell him, Dad. Nothing to worry about." I slipped the phone back in my purse. "Now... tell me about the campaign. Are you blazing a trail of goodness and truth across the United States?"

  He laugh
ed as his face lit up. "We need reform. I've been saying that for years. It's time for another reformation. Do you know the story of Martin Luther?"

  "No. Tell it to me." I smiled and leaned back, pretending to listen as I went to my happy place. I had heard the story of Martin Luther a million times, but my father sold the same stale stories to so many people that he long ago forgot the faces of those of us that had heard them. I didn't have the heart to join in, copying his words right alongside him. It would be childish, and though I would enjoy it in the moment... later I would hate myself even more. The worst part was that he should have known that he’d told me the story a million times before, but I was no different than them to him. I was just another voting member of society.

  How can I be surrounded by people and yet feel so alone all the time?

  "Pumpkin. Are you listening to me?" He poked at my side and I jumped.

  "Oh sorry. I actually studied Martin Luther in one of my history classes last year. I was lost in the story and imagining myself there." I brushed my hands down my white summer dress and turned my attention back to him. "What is your plan to keep yourself safer after the attack a few weeks back?"

  "I always have Pauly beside me, but we've added a few extra guys to the payroll. There's one of them in particular that I wanted to talk to you about." He tapped his leg, which was never a good sign.

  "Dad. I'm not interested in dating right now. I have one more year of school and then med school after that."

  He laughed. "No. I'm not setting you up, silly. I'd rather you not focus on anything but school right now."

  "Oh, good. Then what's up with this guy?" My conclusion had been rather ignorant. My father, though not completely withdrawn from my life, had rarely gotten involved in trying to get me to date. He almost seemed to be more content when I wasn’t seeing anyone. Less to worry about, no doubt.