by Frost, Sosie
“Shay,” William took my hand, though the southern gentleman was just consoling himself. “Let me tell you, I am so sorry for your loss.”
This particular one, or when Dad originally ran out on us when I was thirteen?
I nodded anyway. “Thanks. I know he was your friend.”
“A good one. The world lost a good man.”
If he said so.
“So, uh.” William shuffled a couple papers on his desk. “I don’t know how much your dad told you about his estate and how he planned to have it managed after his death.”
“I know he has a trust for me.”
“Oh, yes. The trust is set to release on your college graduation. That is definitely secure.”
I frowned. Why wouldn’t it be secure?
“But I’m talking about the rest of your father’s assets. His personal fortune, investments, land holdings, new house.”
“New house?”
William folded his hands. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. “Okay, Shay, I know your father hasn’t really…been in contact with you lately. But believe me, he meant for this to be a second chance. He wanted to start a new family and include you in it. He loved you very much. He made sure you would be entitled to so much. And, Shay…there’s more than you think.”
“Okay,” I said. “What exactly are you talking about?”
“Your father recently purchased a new estate just outside of Atlanta.” William shifted. “A rather…large estate.”
“How large?”
“About twenty-five million dollars’ worth.”
Oh.
My.
God.
“Dad had that much?”
William cleared his throat. “Your father had some considerable holdings. A couple very recent investments that worked in his favor.”
“O-kay?”
“Just before his death, he was worth over a billion dollars.”
And now I knew what Gran meant about swooning. I gripped the chair, but even its arms couldn’t hold me up.
First the best sex of my life and then I inherited a billion dollars?
Jesus, I had good weeks before, but that was the result of a nice haircut and no eight AM finals, not becoming a modern day princess!
My stomach did a victory dance…but the rest of my body didn’t recognize the steps. I leaned over and gulped as much air as I could get. That only made it worse. William panicked, raking through the mini-fridge beside his desk until he found his lunch. He cast the Chipotle burrito aside and handed me the paper bag.
I breathed in, crinkled the bag, spat out the receipt, and tried to calm down.
A billion dollars.
Dad had a billion dollars.
I’d pop the damn bag and rip it to shreds if I didn’t breathe fire first.
“Dad had a billion dollars and my mother lived downtown alone in a two bedroom apartment for years?”
William grimaced. “He offered your mother quite a bit of money—most of which she refused. And he made sure you had everything you needed while you were growing up.”
Sure, everything I needed except a father! Someone to hug me after school, to ground me that one time Momma found a pack of cigarettes stuffed under my mattress, to teach me to drive the car he gave me. He sent me to a fancy prep school but never once came to a play, science fair, or graduation. Dad never remembered my birthday either, he was always a year and two weeks late.
I spent my teenage years hating him, but he only cared when he decided to edge into my life. By then it was too late. I created excuse after excuse not to see him. College homework. Finals. Group assignments. Rush—and I wasn’t even in a sorority.
Now he was dead.
And I was inheriting the vast fortunate of a man I hardly knew.
Did I deserve it? Hell no. Did he deserve me? Absolutely not.
“Shay.” William pushed a pair of glasses up his nose and studied the paperwork. “I know things were tense within your home, but your father wanted the best for you, always did. That’s why he made sure the family would be taken care of after he was gone.”
“My father never wanted a family.”
“That’s not true. He very much wanted a family. And he loved you with every beat of his heart, but he never knew how to show it. And, with what happened with your mother…well…”
“Yeah.”
I exhaled. It did nothing. Something had to give. After the hangover and crazy sex a few days ago, I didn’t trust myself to have a drink. Good thing a piece of wedding-funeral cake awaited me at home. I needed to eat about five pounds worth of icing and figure out what I was supposed to do.
Investments? No idea.
Find an accountant. That was a good place to start.
Get a yacht? That’s what rich people did, right? Probably needed to learn to swim first. Hell, I’d purchase a whole lake. My stomach flipped.
Maybe I’d start small. Buy a pint of the really good ice-cream on my way home.
Except I only wanted one flavor.
Vanilla.
Oh, man did I need something vanilla. With dark swirls of ink and enough power to knock me on my butt and keep me there. Another night with a man like Zach would definitely take my mind off of this insanity.
“Before you get too excited, we have a couple particulars to discuss,” William said. He cleared his throat, harumping over some of the fine print on the contract. “Because of the…enormity of your father’s resources, the actual liquid assets and investments were combined into your trust. You will receive the money with your scheduled inheritance when you graduate. In…six months.”
“Five.”
“Oh.” William squinted at the paper. “Uh, I think your father mistyped your information.”
Not a surprise.
“In any case, Shay, the estate and his immediate belongings—car, home, material possessions—will be divided between his living heirs.”
His what now? Heirs?
Plural?
The hair on my neck prickled. I held up a hand, gesturing for William to explain what the hell that meant. He cringed.
“I see your father and you…haven’t spoken for some time.”
“What heirs? I am his living heir.” I stiffened. “Oh, no. I knew he was playing around while he was still with Momma. He has a secret lovechild somewhere, doesn’t he?”
“No, no.” William paused. “Well, not quite.”
“Oh, Lord. What did he do?”
“It’s not what you think. You know your father was in love with Emily Brewer. She was a lovely lady. You would have liked her.”
I wasn’t going to disparage a woman I didn’t know, especially one who was tragically killed in the same car crash that took my father. But even when I learned of the engagement, I wasn’t ready to get mani-pedi’s with my new step-mother. My father had his life. I had mine. If we only wanted to meet up for the holidays, all the better.
“Your father’s wedding…” William folded his hands. “It was just for the family. A nice celebration to bring everyone together.”
“Aren’t they all?”
William’s eyebrows furrowed. “It wasn’t the official ceremony. Shay, your father married Ms. Brewer over a month ago. Completely spontaneous and romantic. He flew her to Aruba—”
“They got married?”
“And his will was updated to reflect it. You see…Ms. Brewer has a son…”
He didn’t tell me.
Why didn’t even tell me? Not an e-mail. Not a call. Not even a damn postcard from his wedding! I paced, clutching my stomach.
“Are you kidding me?” I slammed a hand on the window. “My father marries some woman, dies a month later, and her kid is named in his will?”
“Shay, I told you, he thought of her family as his.”
“Well, at least he remembered them!”
“You were given the bulk of the inheritance, I assure you.”
“It’s not about the money!” I pointed to the paper in his
hands. “It’s about his will! For the past seven years, my father pretended I didn’t exist, and now he’s claiming some other kid as his own! That’s not right. He never even wanted his own biological child.”
“I understand this will take some…adjustments. But your step-brother—”
“—Do not call him that—”
“—Is entitled to half of your father’s new home, and the same material goods I mentioned previously.”
“Jesus.”
“We might be able to work something out—especially if you wish to live at the estate. But first we should meet with him and work out an arrangement.”
“Meet with him?”
William motioned for me to sit. He buzzed on an intercom for a secretary nearly as old as the crackling electronics.
“Sandy, could you send Zachary in?”
Zachary?
“You brought her son here? Now?” I groaned. “William, I can’t have a freakout in front of a kid. Please tell me he’s not some ten year old grieving orphan.”
“No, no. He’s not a child. He’s older than you, actually.”
Well, that didn’t make me feel better. Not at all. Instead of a kid who might have needed help, I’d be dealing with some adult ready to bolt from their day job and spend all my father’s money on a Caribbean beach house.
William stood as the door opened and an elderly secretary hobbled within the room. She gestured the man through.
My stomach dropped. So did everything else.
My pride. My dignity. My rage.
Zach Harden gave me a cocky grin and shrugged.
“Hey, sis.”
Chapter Four - Zach
“Oh. Hell. No.”
Her finger went up. Fortunately, it was her index and not the middle.
“Oh. Hell. No.”
Now the finger wagged. A starting gun shot somewhere, and we were off.
And I deserved it. That’s why I hadn’t asked for her number after she writhed in my sheets. We were going to meet up sooner rather than later. I only hoped I’d have enough time to grab some of my old gear. A Kevlar vest maybe. A pair a handcuffs if she lunged…or if she forgave me.
“This isn’t happening.” Shay didn’t let me speak. “You aren’t serious.”
The attorney panicked, knotting his fingers together.
“Uh, son, do you know each other?”
In every way imaginable. I dodged the question.
“Yes, sir. We ran into each other a few nights ago.”
And I hadn’t been able to get it out of my head since. At least it was something good to remember when Shay inevitably jumped me and succeeded where eight ISIS agents failed. I took a seat across from the attorney and hoped some form of the legal system would protect me from bleeding all over the office.
To her credit, Shay was just as beautiful angry as she was naked, trembling, and completely exposed to me. And that was a hard look to beat.
She acted tough, but she was a quart of trouble squeezed into a pint-sized carton. The skirt, the glasses, the low barrette in her hair pinning back the luxurious ebony locks. I didn’t know if I wanted the vixen or the princess, but damn if they didn’t mesh into the perfect woman.
…A very pissed off woman, as she had every right to be.
But I wasn’t going to stress about our night together. My biggest regret was blowing the chance to re-live the most erotic sex of my life. Shay was a one-of-a-kind woman, even if she was, technically, my step-sister. You just didn’t get that kind of kink anywhere. That was a special brand of off-the-shelf, bargain-bin, sell-it-out-of-the-trunk-of-a-1980-Pontiac-in-a-flea-market-parking-lot kink.
“I can’t believe this,” Shay said. “This has to be some sort of joke.”
William nervously laughed. “What a small world, huh?”
I smirked. “Small isn’t the word Shay would use.”
“This is ridiculous.” Shay stared at William. “There has to be some kind of mistake.”
“No…” William shrugged. “Zachary Harden is the son of Emily Brewer, your father’s wife. He is your step-brother, and he’s named in your father’s will.”
I shrugged. “I can show you ID, but I’d think you’d recognize me by now.”
Even with clothes on.
Shay wasn’t amused.
I shouldn’t have been so confrontational, but damn she was pretty when angry. I knew it was wrong, especially since she was my step-sister, but after Shay left, I jerked off in the shower to the memory of her clenching around me. Three days passed and I could still feel her lips over my cock, imagine her warmth surrounding me, and still smell the tease of apple and pomegranate on my pillow.
It was the wrong kind of fantasy to have, made worse by the current situation.
I was now an incredibly rich man.
And I had to face an irate woman demanding a metric shit-ton of explanations.
She’d be lucky if I could even answer. Just getting to the attorney’s office was a trip and a half. For the past week, Georgia flooded with rain. Suddenly, we had nothing but clear skies and an obscenely bright sun determined to burn through my retinas and set my goddamned head on fire. The migraine this morning nearly kept me in bed, but a billion dollars got me into the shower.
The money opened the world to me—even if I wanted to travel to the places other people wouldn’t dare. Iraq. Afghanistan. Iran. Syria. Those where the countries where I was supposed to be, fighting and protecting. I didn’t belong in some bumbling attorney’s office in the middle of Atlanta. I had my fill of sweet-tea, it was time to get my ass back into the service.
Though…some things they only made good in the south.
Shrimp and grits. Pecan pie. Shay Franklin.
She was definitely my favorite meal. My favorite entertainment. My favorite night life. If she could be wrapped up in a care package and sent overseas, my morale—and other things—would definitely rise.
“Shall we…uh, discuss the situation?” William asked. He offered Shay a chair that would probably get slammed over my head.
“We have nothing to discuss,” she said.
William’s nervous chuckle cracked under her stare. “Not so. There are quite a few pieces of property which will transfer to both your names, including your father’s newly purchased estate.” William dropped two house keys on his desk. “It might get pretty complicated.”
“No, it’s not complicated.” A single curl of Shay’s hair loosened from her tie. It bobbed in front of her face, just waiting for me to tuck it behind her ear. “He’s not getting a goddamned dime. And that’s the end of it.”
“Shay, this is a legal matter.”
“No, this is a family matter.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “But we are family now.”
“Don’t start.” Her eyes widened. Now she realized how badly we fucked up by spending the night together. “We are not family. You’re just an arrogant asshole who thinks he struck it rich. I’m going to make sure you don’t get one cent of my father’s money.”
I don’t know why I did it, but rolling over an IED nearly a year ago gave me some confidence. “Our father’s money.”
Shay reached for her purse, either to beat me or storm out of the office. William leapt up, preventing her from leaving. He clapped his hands together.
“I’ll get us some coffee. Really, now, this should be a time of celebration. Both of you have suffered a loss, but you’re inheriting a life-changing amount of money. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you two. Especially since you are family. Neither of you are alone anymore.”
“I don’t want his type of company,” Shay said.
I grinned. “I thought we had a nice time together.”
“Next time I’ll drown in my drink.”
“Wouldn’t have been nearly as fun.”
William faked a smile. “That’s the spirit. I’ll get us some coffee and let you two hash this out before we discuss the will.”
I nod
ded. “Thank you, sir.”
The door closed. I expected Shay to launch at my neck. She didn’t. Instead, she stung me with a scowl that shamed me so much my mother would have blushed…if she weren’t dead. Though, hell, even when she was alive she botox’d her cheeks beyond human expression. Between the fake tits and whatever the hell she injected in her ass, my mom seduced Darnell Franklin and finally secured a man’s fortune for herself just before the end.
But she did it. She married him, got the money for all the summer homes and prescription drugs she wanted, then died before they built the second home in the Hamptons. Everything passed to me. Shay had every right to be pissed.
I’d still take the money. I needed something to change my luck. This was it.
Shay said nothing. It was better than cursing me out, though I knew she could deliver every profanity she promised. I remembered her sweet and sultry words, teased from a tongue that had no business feeling as good as it did on my cock.
I shouldn’t have gotten hard again, but even angry, she was the sexiest woman I ever saw.
“You…” She gritted her teeth. “You are going to move your ass outta here. By the time you get to your car? You’ll forget everything that my family’s attorney said. This.” She waved around the office. “Is none of your concern.”
“I know you’re mad.”
“Mad? No. Na-uh. I’m not mad.” She pointed me toward the door. “If I was mad, that’d mean I’ve give one goddamned fuck about you.”
“Last time we were together you gave quite a few fucks about me.”
“Are you serious?” Shay edged closer to me. “You think you get to smile and flirt and then take my father’s money and skip out of here?”
She couldn’t intimidate a swatting kitten, but I wasn’t going to give her leverage over me. I stood, and my bulk towered over her.
I couldn’t train while I was in the hospital, and my physical therapy didn’t include a trip to the weight room. But after I recuperated, I didn’t just get back in the saddle. I tamed a new horse and bought the fucking ranch. I trained better, worked harder, and it showed. My strength wasn’t for bragging rights. It saved my ass in the middle of Tikrit. And now I was bigger and badder than ever.