The Bastard

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Then I’m staying.”

  “I’m a bad person. I need to tell you that I’m a bad person.”

  His eyes narrow, and I feel the slight stiffening in his body next to mine. “What does that mean, Harper?”

  “The honorable thing to do right now is to make you leave.”

  His expression softens. “You can’t make me leave.”

  I wish that was true, I think. I wish so much that I didn’t have a secret that would make him hate me. I tell myself to tell him now, but it’s embarrassing and I’m ashamed that I didn’t handle a piece of my life, of his life, in a better way. He’ll leave when he finds out. He’ll go home and that means he’ll be out of this. He’ll be protected and I care about this man. I need to suck it up and take the hate. I need to force him to leave. I need to just tell him. I need to do it now.

  But then he strokes my hair in that way he does that is both tender and sensual, and it undoes me. “We’re in this together, Harper,” he says with that warm, gravelly tone of his that is sex and sin and friendship all in one. “Which is why,” he adds, “we’re going to get comfortable, drink wine, and dig through the data Blake gave us. Together. We’re going to do this together. Say it.”

  “Together,” I repeat, and I like this word for us. I like it so much that I’m selfish. I can’t tell him right this minute. I’ll tell him tomorrow. I’ll tell him everything in the morning.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Eric

  With the word “together” between us, I reach up and untie the sash of Harper’s pink silk robe and then turn her to face the door, dragging it down her shoulders, letting the silk pool at our feet. “Let’s get comfortable and get to work,” I say, my lips by her ear, my fingers catching on her shirt, and pulling it over her head.

  “And that requires I be naked?” she asks.

  I remove my shirt and slip it over her head, the material falling past her knees as I turn her to face me and she slips her arms into the sleeves. “My way of reminding you that we’re together as we dig into the investigation. Together, Harper.”

  “Together doesn’t mean jumping to conclusions like you did over Gigi without talking to me first.”

  “I’ll concede that to be true,” I say. “And I’m sorry.”

  She blanches. “You’re sorry?”

  “Yes,” I say. “I’m sorry, and in case you didn’t know, savants are good at apologizing, in my case, if it mathematically makes sense.”

  It’s a joke, but she doesn’t laugh.

  “You’re not going to say anything more about the Gigi incident?”

  “I believe you had good intentions,” I say, and I do. “I believe you’ll talk to me next time first.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “Then let’s put it behind us. That’s mathematically logical as well.”

  She smiles. “I like this mathematically logical stuff you do.”

  “Good, because it’s who I am, sweetheart.” I glance at my black and silver TAG Heuer watch, one of the first expensive things I bought myself, and then back to her. “It’s ten. I want to analyze the data Blake sent me and have you show me the data you collected before we catch a few hours of sleep.”

  “Of course,” she says. “I have a paper file I put together. I was paranoid about the electronic data getting wiped out or it being discovered by the wrong people.” She moves to the side of the bed where she’s taken up residence for the night, and I claim my spot as she pulls a folder from her briefcase.

  “This is what I’ve pulled together, but honestly, I’m not sure it helps much. It tells us there’s funny stuff going on but we know that already and it’s nothing.” Her cellphone rings again and she glances at the caller ID. “My mother,” she confirms. “I’m taking it on speaker. My reminder to you that I’m with you.” She doesn’t give me time to approve or object. She answers the line.

  “Hi, mom.”

  “He’s still there with you, isn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Harper confirms, glancing at me as she adds, “He is. We’re together. We’re seeing each other.”

  “He’s your stepbrother. That’s embarrassing.”

  Harper reacts about the same way I did to Isaac issuing that same jab. Irritation flits across her face and she snaps back. “We’re adults that never even lived together and I can’t even believe you went there. You’re married to a man who out ages you by a huge number. I know how sensitive you are to that, but when it’s me you’re going to attack?”

  “Your father—”

  “Okay, mom. This is more of the same conversation we had when you were here tonight. He’s not my father, and frankly, I’m tired of you dishonoring my real father, the man that was supposed to be your soul mate, by calling Jeff my father. I’m not going to say more. Right now, you’re not in a state of mind to listen.”

  She’s silent for several beats. “There are things about Eric you don’t know. I need you to hear those things before you continue down this destructive path.”

  “I’m going to let Eric tell me about Eric. Just like I want him to let me be the one to tell him about me.”

  “When your fath— Jeff, gets here tomorrow, you’re going to have to talk to him about Eric.”

  “Jeff needs to talk to Eric,” Harper says, “his son, which is what I will tell him.”

  His son.

  Fuck, I hate the way that reference cuts. I didn’t think it could cut anymore, but it does.

  Harper’s mother is silent for several beats. “I beg of you, daughter, please don’t do this.”

  “I’m protecting you,” Harper says. “One day you’ll thank me.” Her mother sobs and hangs up.

  Harper sets the phone on the bed. “I’m all for digging into the data.” She grabs my cube. “I can never work these things. Can you?”

  I take it from her, use a few rotations of my hand and solve the puzzle before setting it down. “Talk to me.”

  She turns her stare on me and for several beats she just searches my face, just looks at me. “What if I don’t know her anymore, Eric? What if she’s one of them now? What if she knows what’s going on and has willingly stayed involved?”

  I lean forward and stroke a strand of hair from her eyes. “Then you save her anyway. She’s your mother.”

  “That’s not what you said when I told you I had to save her.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Why?” she asks, covering my hand with hers.

  “Because, sweetheart, I wanted to save my mother from this family and I couldn’t.” It’s a confession I’ve made to no one, ever. “Just like your mother, she didn’t want to be saved.”

  “Your mother was trying to save you, not herself. That’s different. She did what she did out of love for you. Mine. Mine doesn’t seem to care about me at all.”

  “Or she’s desperate to protect you,” I suggest. “She wants you to back off before someone hurts you. Give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Thank you, Eric. I know that you’re seeing her in a different light to help me. It really matters.”

  “Yeah, well, sweetheart, I wouldn’t have gotten so damn pissed at you over Gigi if you didn’t matter to me. Trust is everything to me.”

  She sucks in a breath and glances away before looking at me. “Because this family hurt you so badly.”

  “They cut me, but I don’t bleed easily, not anymore.” Her phone buzzes with a text and she glances down at it and then shows it to me. It’s from Gigi and it reads: Answer me, Harper. Do not tell Eric.

  I study it a few beats and look at Harper. “I’m not objective about Gigi. I hate her and I don’t hate easily. Tell her okay, you won’t tell me. Give her space to feel safe and we’ll sit back and see what she does next.” I wait for Harper to reject this directive, but she doesn’t.

  She types a message and shows it to me. It reads almost identical to what I suggested she say, but she hasn’t pressed
send yet. “Good?” she asks.

  “Good,” I approve.

  She hits send and sets her phone aside. “I don’t have the capacity to wade through information with the same results you can, but let me help. What can I do?”

  “Show me your file and explain what concerns you.”

  From there, we dig in, and after reviewing her data with me, she starts reading through the files Blake sent me. In the midst of it all, I tease another investor on the NFL deal, refuse calls from Julius, the asshole trying to set-up the deal, and ensure Grayson knows what card I’m playing. It’s one in the morning when Harper is snuggled next to me, sound asleep, and I move her MacBook to the nightstand. With her pressed to my side, I continue to work, and I decide that I could damn sure get used to this woman by my side, in a bed, any bed, with me.

  I flip through her data again, my Rubik’s cube in my hand, and I compare the data to the files that were deleted from Kingston’s systems, homing in on Isaac’s email when I set the cube down. He deleted every email to a man named Tim Carlson, who just so happens to be a high-ranking officer of the automobile union. And Harper is not only meeting with the union tomorrow, she feels like it’s a set-up. I don’t like how that looks, feels, or sounds, especially when Gigi, who I don’t trust, befriended Harper and now she doesn’t want me to know about cash deposits. But she wanted me here. She sent Harper to get me. Blake’s right. Harper and I are being set-up.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Eric

  I wake at sunrise with Harper pressed to my side, the heat of her body next to mine warming me in places I thought to be pure, unbreakable ice, but I was wrong. This woman chips away that ice, and while I didn’t think I wanted it chipped away, now I want her warmth in all those cold places. She’s changing me. She doesn’t know it, but I do. With every moment that I’m with her, she seeps deeper inside me, and she was already there to begin with. She’s been there for six illogical, but absolute, years. For a solid fifteen minutes, I lay there, just listening to her breathe, and when I finally force myself to get up to deal with a phone conference I’ve set up on the NFL deal, she sinks deeper into the covers, and to me, this represents trust. With all she has going on, with all the fears she’s nursing, she feels safe with me here. And she is. No one is ever going to hurt her again.

  I pull on my boots I took off hours ago, drag my jacket on without a shirt, stick the gun in the back of my jeans, and then head downstairs, exiting the house into a cold Denver morning to grab my garment bag from the trunk of my rental. I check in with Blake by text, despite talking to him a few hours ago, or rather texting with him. I re-enter the bedroom and Harper hasn’t moved. I finishing showering and still, she hasn’t moved. I shave and dress in a three-thousand-dollar suit, meant to represent Bennett Enterprises with the union today. I accessorize with the gun at the back of my pants, under my jacket. I make coffee and predict how Harper takes hers based on the supplies she has in the house and then head upstairs.

  I set the cup on the nightstand and then settle my hand on Harper’s arm. She blinks and brings me into focus. “Eric? God, is that really you?”

  My lips curve at her sleepy, dreamy reaction. “Yes, sweetheart. It’s really me. I brought you coffee.”

  She rockets to a sitting position. “Eric?”

  I laugh. “Yes. It’s still me.”

  “I was—I think I was—”

  “Dreaming?”

  “Yes. I was really asleep and I think and you were—It was just a dream.”

  Dreaming of me. Fuck. She’s undoing me here. I should have come back for her. I never should have left her.

  “Oh God,” she says, grabbing my arm. “What time is it? I have that union meeting.”

  “It’s only six-thirty.” I offer her the coffee. “You have time.”

  “You really made me coffee?”

  “I really made you coffee,” I confirm as she accepts the cup and sips.

  “And you made it how I like it. Was there some statistical reason you chose my perfect mixture?”

  “I guessed based on how you stock your supplies.”

  “You did good,” she approves, “and how very un-bastard-like of you.” She eyes my suit. “You look really, really good in a suit. Actually, you look really, really good in a T-shirt. And apparently, I have no filter with you.”

  “No filter equals honesty. Keep it coming. And for the record, you look damn good in my shirt. You’d look better in my bed. I may have to go back to New York for a meeting on this NFL deal. Come with me.”

  She sets the coffee down. “I can’t leave in the middle of this, but you, you need to leave before you get set-up in some way. I fell asleep thinking about that. You need to go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you. Come into my world, into my life, and be a part of it.”

  “Would that include you telling me what all your tattoos mean?”

  “Yes, Harper. I’ll tell you what my tattoos mean.”

  “That’s tempting, really tempting and I wish I could, Eric, but I can’t leave. You know I can’t leave.”

  “You can,” I say, and when she opens her mouth to object, I hold up a finger. “Hear me out, sweetheart.”

  She hesitates but nods before I continue, “We’ll convince them that I gave you a reason to leave and backed you the hell out of this mess. In theory, they then let down their guards while the Walker team is hacking and watching.”

  “You really think that will work?”

  “I know this family far better than I wish I did, Isaac especially. He is never smart about how he covers his tracks.”

  “He covered them well enough to keep us from uncovering them now.”

  “You’ve been in his face, you’ve been pushing him. Come to New York with me.” My hand comes down on her leg. “Sleep in my bed with me. Live in my world with me. See what life outside the Kingston world is like. They’ve consumed you. And if you see it, if you love it, you’ll sell it to your mom.”

  Her eyes soften. “I want to. God, I really want to.”

  “Then do it. Remove yourself from the target zone, too.”

  Worry pinches her brow. “Does that put my mother there instead?”

  “We’ll watch for trouble, but I don’t see her as a target.”

  “How would that look? What would we do to set this up?”

  “I’ll go at them hard for a few days and you stay your course. Don’t change how you’ve been acting at all. Don’t say a word to Gigi about backing down. Then I’ll pull back and tell my father that I’ll bow out in exchange for your protection. I’ve walked away before. He’ll believe me.”

  “You think it will work?”

  “Yes, and I read my father well. I’ll know when to play the cards if it’s working.”

  She considers me several beats. “Me going to your home is our play?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me in your bed?”

  “The best fucking play ever,” I assure her.

  Her lips curve, her mood shifting to yes before she ever speaks it. “I have a condition,” she says, her eyes lighting with mischief.

  “What condition?”

  “Every tattoo I lick, you explain.”

  I laugh and kiss her hand. “Condition accepted and feel free to start that process before we get to New York and my bed.”

  “A suggestion worthy of consideration.”

  I lean in and cup her head, dragging her lips to mine. “How about I lick you all over instead?”

  “Can we take turns?”

  I kiss her, and the throb of my cock is instant, while my conference call is imminent, and it’s all I can do to leave her in her bed, all but naked in my shirt. But I do, and only because soon she’ll be in my bed where she’ll stay naked.

  ***

  Harper

  I have to tell him my secret before I can go to New York with him. I have to. I will. It’s the right thing to do. It’s t
he only thing to do. These are the thoughts in my head as I dress in a black dress and thigh-high tights with lace tops, my mind is racing the entire time I go through my morning routine. I am falling hard for this man. I have been from the day I met him and now, we’re here, we’re together, we’re doing this, and the past hangs over our heads. The consequences of our first night together reach far beyond what Eric believes to be the reality.

  I grab my purse and briefcase and head downstairs, following the echo of Eric’s deep, sexy voice to the kitchen. I find him at the island, coffee cup in hand, his MacBook open on the counter, while the phone is at his ear. His tattoos peek from beneath his sleeve, a canvas of all the lives he’s lived and I want to know them all. I want this secret not to destroy us, but not telling him isn’t an option. We said no secrets and this one isn’t one I could live with holding back.

  I approach the island and he looks up, his eyes warming with the sight of me in that way every girl wants a man of her heart to look at her with. And he is the man of my heart. I’m falling in love with him. I have always been standing on a ledge above a sea of wild blue love with this man, ready to jump. But I can’t jump and have that water become ice.

  “Let me call you back, Blake,” Eric says, disconnecting and shutting his computer, his eyes doing a wicked glide up and down my body. “You look beautiful, Harper.”

  “Thank you,” I say stopping at the island across from him and it’s the wrong time. I know it’s the wrong time, but when I look into his eyes, when the warmth of his stare radiates through me, I can barely contain this explosion inside me. “Eric, I need—”

  Both of our cellphones ring at the same time. Eric winks and my moment of poorly timed confession is gone. We both reach for our phones. Mine turns out to be Jim Sims. “Jim,” I greet. “We’re still on for our meeting this morning, right? At the union office?”

  “No meeting.”

  “Why?”

  “Isaac and I talked last night. We agreed on terms.”

  “Just like that?”

  “It’s done. No meeting.” He hangs up without another word.