“One night when Dad was away, I ran to Mother’s room, and she pushed me out. She didn’t give a damn that I was scared shitless. I remember the scornful look on her face when all I wanted was to feel safe. That’s when I began coming to your room.”
“I remember that look well. I used to sleep under my bed when I got scared. That was before you came along. I was actually glad when you started showing up.”
I scoffed at that. “You never said anything.”
“Of course not. I was the big brother. I had to act like it.”
Memories of those times rolled over me in waves. “That’s why I don’t ever want kids. She poisoned me.”
He shrugged. “She did the opposite to me. If I ever have them, I’ll be the best parent possible.”
“That’s a different take. I don’t think I have it in me. After all those years of fending for myself, I’m not sure I have the nurturing gene.” How could I? I’d never been exposed to it.
Stanton tapped my leg with his crutch. “Sure you do. All you have to do is treat the kid like you wanted to be treated and never were.”
He made a good point. However, kids were not in my future. “Back to the heirs part. I don’t think that’s it. If it were, Dad would’ve made that a condition of his will too.”
“Great point. Now that we have that solved, what are you going to do?” Stanton asked.
“I don’t fucking know. I’m not even dating anyone, much less close to asking a woman to marry me.”
“Oh, come on. Any woman would jump at the chance. Make it a contractual thing.”
“Do you mind explaining that ridiculous idea?” My brother had lost his mind. A contractual thing? Wasn’t marriage already a legal contract?
After he sat back down and propped up the broken leg, all without my help, he did just that. “You could do a five-year deal or something like that. Have your lawyer draw up a contract to make everything legit, and then find the right woman. When the time is up, you go your separate ways, and she gets a parting gift.”
“Parting gift?”
“Don’t be so obtuse. Pay her off for the time invested.”
I leaned forward and cast him a dubious glance. “Have you lost it? I can’t pay anyone off. First, I don’t even know anyone to pay.”
“Listen to me, bro. All I’m saying is find someone, anyone, you can get along with for a few years. Hell, a couple of years at the very least. Have the contract drawn up and do it.”
Jesus, this room had gotten small. I jumped out of the chair, went to the window, and opened it to get some air. “It’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to get married.”
“I’ll give you that, but I’d do it if I had to in order to save the family fortune. Don’t you know anyone?”
A beautiful face with aqua eyes and framed by blonde hair came to mind. But hell, she barely wanted to go to dinner with me. Marriage? I was pretty sure her answer would be hell to the fucking no.
My brother chuckled. “From the look on your face, I already have the answer. What are you waiting for?”
“Yeah, if you knew the story, you’d know I had a snowball’s chance in Hell of making that happen.”
“You won’t know if you don’t try. Now get your ass out of here and go to her. Time’s running out.”
My brain was going to explode. All this shit happening at once was more than I was used to. Marrying someone? By the end of the year? Absurd!
Chapter Twenty
English
“Stuart, what are you doing here?”
“I came by to see you and talk some sense into you.”
My phone was in my hand, so I pressed Dad’s name as secretively as I could. When he answered, I had it on speaker so he could hear everything.
“Stuart, there’s an order of protection out on you. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Calm down, princess, this is a friendly visit.”
“Do not come any closer.”
A nasty laugh hit me. “What are you going to do? Throw that pillow at me?”
He was right. I’d never make it inside before he grabbed me, so I did the best job possible of putting up a calm front. “Yeah, I thought that would be a great distraction.”
“You know something, English? You always thought you were funnier than you actually are.”
“Nice to know. I won’t give up my day job and join the comedy troupe then.”
“Good idea. So about Easton. I want to run a DNA test.”
“Why?” This was what I’d dreaded.
“Don’t play stupid.”
“You already know you’re the father. I’m not playing stupid.”
“To please the courts when I go for custody.”
“Ah, I see. You had no interest in her until now, so why is it you want custody?”
He flashed me a smile, one that used to disarm me. It didn’t work anymore, but it did shoot pinpricks of fear over my flesh. “Let’s just say that’s for me to know and for you to find out… in court.”
“The next time we go to court won’t be for custody. It’ll be for assault.”
I looked up to see Dad’s big SUV pull into the driveway and screech to a stop. He jumped out and stalked over to where Stuart stood. My dad towered over him. Stuart was only about five eleven while my dad definitely had the height advantage. He got right into Stuart’s face and said, “You’ve violated the order of protection against you. It didn’t take long for you to break the law again. Why am I not surprised?”
Before Stuart could form an answer, the sound of blaring sirens got louder. He scowled. “For fuck’s sake, English. You couldn’t even have a single conversation with me without calling the police? You’re such a cunt.”
Dad growled, “Don’t you ever call my daughter that again.”
I didn’t bother responding. Two police cars pulled up in front of the house as the cops got out of the car. One of them called out, “Mr. McLure, back away from the porch. You are in violation of the order of protection and therefore you’re under arrest.”
Stuart’s eyes shone with hatred. “You’ll regret this.”
They read him his rights and took him away. My attorney called, thanks to my dad. Clayton assured me I had nothing to worry about. Easy for him to say. He didn’t have a deranged family after him.
After the police drove off, we debated how this could work to our advantage. I still worried about the DNA test.
Dad voiced my own concerns. “You think the DNA test will cause problems?”
“Clayton said if he’s in jail, he can’t get custody anyway,” I explained.
“True, but what about his parents?”
“The courts may consider supervised visitation but they won’t give custody to them, according to Clayton. As long as Easton has a surviving parent, there is no way they can. What would really be of benefit is if she had an adoptive father,” I said.
Dad asked, “What do you mean?”
“Let me spell it out. If I was married and if my husband adopted Easton, it would make it difficult for anyone to step in and get custody, especially since I never named anyone on the birth certificate.”
Dad smiled, I mean he beamed. He had something up his sleeve, which I was sure spelled trouble.
I asked, “Dad, what’s up with you?”
He sat next to me and put his arm around me. “Remember the story about your mother and me?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“I was thinking that maybe you could find someone—”
I leapt to my feet and flung out my hand. “Nope. Stop right there. One, you lucked out with Mom. She was my teacher so there was that connection. I have no one.”
“Um, I beg to differ.” His satisfied grin made me nervous.
“What do you mean?”
“You have Tristian.”
“What the hell, Dad? I do not have Tristian.”
“English, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He has more than a passing interest.”
“So what if he does? It doesn’t mean he wants to marry me and adopt a kid in the process. Besides, I’d never do that to Easton.”
A vein in his neck pulsed as anger darkened his features. “Do what to Easton? Protect her from that monster? Save her from having to go to that asshole’s home? You yourself said you’d do anything to prevent that.”
“Not that! That’s ludicrous.”
He took a deep breath and paralleled his hands. “Just hear me out. You can offer him the same thing I did your mother.”
“Oh? And what’s that? The lottery?”
Dad laughed.
This was the furthest thing from being funny. How dare he? “Stop it or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Punch me?”
“Yes! I will.”
“English, calm down for a minute. Think about it. Tristian is a good man. You might not even be standing here without him.”
Jesus, when he put it like that, I shuddered. I went to the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
“I need some lavender tea,” I said. “You’re stressing me out.” He followed me and asked for a cup too. “Only if you behave.”
“You sound exactly like your mother.”
“She raised me right.”
“And I didn’t help?”
He looked indignant but also slightly pitiful, so I said, “Of course you did. You’re my hero, except when you come up with these outlandish ideas.”
He hugged me to his broad chest. “It’s not outlandish. It worked beautifully for your mother and me. Just listen. You two are both bright and everyone needs some spark in a relationship. I see that in you two. Easton hasn’t scared him off either.”
Dad was right about that. Tristian still wanted to take me to dinner, even after Easton’s interrogation. But dinner was one thing. Marriage? Another.
“I’d have a better chance of flying to the moon than of Tristian marrying me.”
“What makes you say that?” Dad asked, watching me pour the cups of tea.
“Just a feeling I get. He’s not the marrying kind, and to be honest, I’m not sure I am.”
“Fine. You don’t have to be. It can be a temporary thing until Easton is twelve. That’s the age the court allows the child to decide which parent she wants to live with.”
Then I tossed him the biggest obstacle of all. “And what if we go through with this farce, and end up divorcing? Say Tristian does the adoption thing and ends up mighty close to Easton. What happens then if he wants partial custody of her?”
Dad aimed his finger at me. “Dammit, English, you have an answer for everything.”
“Damn right I do when it comes to my child.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Tristian
That harebrained scheme of Stanton’s imbedded itself into my brain. It was all I thought about for the next week.
Beck informed me of Stuart’s arrest. The fool had broken the order of protection by going to English’s. Good thing he’d been arrested. I shuddered when I thought of what could’ve happened to her. That asshole was stupidly persistent.
Beck was making it very easy for English and I to work together. It almost seemed he was pushing us closer. He put us on projects that seemed odd for both of us.
“Dad, why do you need me to go with Tristian on this?” English asked. “I have a lot of editing to do.”
“Because I need your perspective.” He walked out and didn’t give either of us another opportunity to ask questions. We looked at each other and shrugged.
“Let’s go,” I said. It was for a shoot downtown on a new building that had just been completed. The investment broker wanted a photoshoot for an upcoming feature in one of the real estate magazines. It would help sell office space. This was a minor job for Beck that he’d passed down to me. I enjoyed this type of photography, but was more interested in getting away from metro shoots and on to other things.
On the way over, English said, “Sorry Dad made me tag along. My perspective isn’t going to help much. You’re the experienced one, not me.”
“I disagree. You’re great when it comes to lighting and angles. I’ll shoot and then show you what I have. We can sort of edit along the way.”
“You mean get different shots to make the editing easier,” she said. I laughed. “Thanks for being so easy to work with on this.”
The building was incredible. Modern architecture could be stark and sometimes too severe for my taste, but this building, even though it was glass and steel, had added elements of nature. They had somehow woven into the glass a vine of green, giving the appearance of green leaves resembling ivy. It twisted within and looked ethereal. The pictures brought the building to life and the building gave the downtown a spark of futuristic modernity that didn’t seem outlandish or gaudy in any way.
The job took the rest of the day and we were riding back to the office when I said, “I’m sorry about Stuart paying you another visit.”
“Dad told you?”
“He did. I was shocked to hear that idiot did something so stupid after going to jail.”
“Honestly, I’m glad he did.”
My voice carried a warning tone. “English, he could’ve hurt you.”
“I know. But I’m fine. See?” She spread her arms wide.
“That’s not the point. The point is—”
“Tristian, please don’t lecture me.”
Huffing, I said, “I’m not. I’m concerned for your safety.”
“Understood. And thank you.”
“That’s it?”
“What else can I say?”
I turned to look at her.
“Hey, fella, eyes on the road, please.”
I turned back to driving, as I should’ve, and said, “Just be careful.”
“I swear I am. I can’t hide in the house all day. Do you have any suggestions?”
She had me there. And I didn’t know what to tell her short of getting her a bodyguard.
“At least he’s back behind bars again.”
“Being dumb enough to blow the order paid off.”
I grabbed her hand in an impulsive gesture. “Listen, maybe they’ll keep him in there for a while, but I don’t trust his family so don’t let your guard down.”
She turned her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze.
“So, when will you be up for our dinner date?” I asked.
“Anytime, since my grapes are gone. Easton keeps asking if I’m going to get new ones.”
“That child comes up with some doozies, doesn’t she? What about Friday?”
“That’s good. It gives me time to find a babysitter for Easton.”
After we parted ways, I kept thinking about her and that crazy prick who wouldn’t leave her alone. Maybe asking her to marry me just to protect her and Easton wasn’t such a bad idea.
As I was driving home, the phone rang. It was Beck.
“Hey, we got some great photos.”
“Figured the two of you would. How was English?”
“She’s fine. Why?”
“Oh, I just wondered if she said anything.”
“About what?”
“Nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
That was strange. Why would Beck call and ask me that without elaborating? Maybe I should call and check with English. Before I could, my phone rang again. It was an unknown number, so I didn’t answer. They left a voicemail, so I checked it.
“Mr. Baines, I would suggest you stay away from English Bridges. She is not your concern.”
That pissed me off. I had an idea who it was and why they would leave that message.
I called one of the corporate attorneys.
“Mr. Baines, what can I do for you?”
“I just received a cryptic voicemail and was wondering if there was any way to track the sender?”
“That doesn’t fall under my area of expertise, but the security team can help. Are you anywhere near the offices?”
“I’m on
the way. I can be there in thirty.”
“I’ll meet you in the lobby with the head of security. We’ll see what we can do.”
I arrived to find the two men waiting for me. We went to the security department and I played the message. They took my phone and downloaded the message and phone number. But the only thing they came up with was it came from an untraceable burner phone.
“Great. Thanks anyway.”
“Mr. Baines, if you get a call like this again, the only way to pursue it is to keep the caller active until we locate him.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Pretty sure he’s smarter than that.”
“Just be careful, sir,” the security team member said.
“I will and I’m not worried for me. It’s English Bridges who they’re after.”
“Would you like us to keep an eye out on her?” he asked.
She’d go through the roof if she found out about it. “Let me think on it.”
“Just let us know.”
“Thank you, gentlemen.” The more I thought about her, the more I worried. What did they want from her and why? The only thing that came to mind was Easton, but she was only a kid. Was she worth that much to them? Surely their plans didn’t include harming her. Then again, Stuart’s behavior was so erratic, it wasn’t wise to take any chances.
I grabbed my phone and called Beck.
“Hey, is there a problem?”
“I was just thinking, Beck. You don’t think Stuart or his family want to harm Easton, do you?”
“No. I think they want her to make Stuart look like the doting father. Maybe to improve his reputation.”
I slumped in relief. “Thank God. For a moment there, I—”
“You what?”
“I was on the border of freaking out.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
I hesitated and decided not to mention the phone call. No use getting Beck worried over nothing. “No, I was overthinking.”
“I see. I do worry about the two of them though. After what Stuart pulled, I can’t help it,” Beck admitted.
“I get it. I worry too.”
“That’s good.”
“What?” He was saying the strangest things.
For The Love of Easton : A Single Parent Romance and Sequel to For The Love of English Page 12