Just short of running the Mercedes into the wall, Scarlett stormed out of the car and into the house. She rushed past Clara and Jane with a mere wave of her hand and a quick “Hello” and crossed through the massive dining room until she arrived at her father’s office. The carved cherry wood door was cracked open a sliver, and Scarlett was just ready to charge through when she heard the voice of Warren’s father.
What the hell is Mr. Huntington doing over here? Her parents weren’t good friends with the family even though they constantly told Scarlett how wonderful the Huntingtons were and how lucky she was that Warren was interested in her. It had grated on her nerves most of the time and made her want to gag whenever they started the whole “Warren is such a nice man” broken record.
“I’m asking you again, George—what the fuck are you going to do about this?” Bruce Huntington’s voice boomed.
“I’m trying to make the young man understand how foolish the situation is since Scarlett is hellbent on carrying out her rebellion.” Her dad’s voice sounded frustrated … and tired, a string of guilt pulled at her heart.
“That’s not good enough. This lowlife biker is seeing dollar signs, so he’s not going to just walk away. You have to fight insolence with a strong and heavy hand.”
There was a long pause followed by the sound of ice cubes clinking against glass. She imagined her dad pouring his favorite whiskey into the tumbler, then taking a long drink. The thump of the glass meant it hit either the wood desk or the end table, if they were seated next to the fireplace.
“Seems like your boy couldn’t keep my daughter interested. It’s a phase she’s going through and it’ll pass. I’m a patient man when I have to be,” her dad said.
“Patient my ass! And Warren did everything a gentleman should do with a woman. He can’t help it if Scarlett likes trash. You and I had a deal, George. I can’t wait any longer.”
A deal? I knew it! Dad and Mr. Huntington were using me and Warren as bargaining chips in their damn merger. Heat rushed to her face and she pressed her hands lightly against her warm cheeks.
“I still want to develop the area, Bruce. I’m not reneging on the deal to buy your land. It’s pretty obvious that Scarlett doesn’t want your son. Her hooking up with this biker is my problem, not yours.”
“The deal was that they would marry,” Bruce Huntington said in a low voice. “Warren needs to marry Scarlett, and you need to make sure that happens.”
There was a loud, deep laugh. “Your son doesn’t need to do shit. I just said that Scarlett isn’t fancying Warren—it happens. We can draw up the papers this week for the land sale.”
The initial bargain was for me to marry Warren for a land deal. How cold can you get?
“I want them married—that was what we agreed on.” Ice dripped from Bruce’s words.
“It didn’t work out. I’m not going to make my daughter marry someone she doesn’t want. If you don’t wish to sell the land, that’s another thing. I’d like it, but I also have my eye on some other properties in the area.”
“No … I still want to sell the land.” Panic laced Huntington’s voice. “I’ll take care of this dirtbag—don’t you worry about that.”
Scarlett put her hand over her mouth to keep a gasp from escaping.
“Just let it be, Bruce.”
“When someone fucks with me and my son, it becomes my problem. You should be enraged by this shit.”
Unable to contain herself anymore, Scarlett pushed open the door and stalked into the room, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at her dad, then at Warren’s father.
“And what shit are you talking about?” Satisfaction wove through her when she scanned both of their startled faces. “If you’re talking about Shadow and me, Mr. Huntington, then I have to say that it’s none of your business what I do or whom I date.” A flash of anger rankled over her skin, like goosebumps raised by frigid air.
“Scarlett, what do you mean by bursting in here? We’re having a private conversation.” A frown pinched a space between her dad’s brows as he turned the crystal tumbler around in his hand.
“A conversation about me.”
With a huff, Bruce Huntington pushed up from the leather wingback chair, threw her a dirty look, then shook his head. “Manners are lost on the young today.” He picked up a brown leather briefcase. “We’ll be in touch, George.” Not even deigning a glance in her direction, he marched out of the study.
“Good riddance,” Scarlett muttered, then sank down in a chair opposite her dad. “I don’t appreciate you going to Shadow’s warehouse yesterday. If you have something to say, then tell me, not him.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“You won’t listen to sense, so I thought he would, but he’s just as hardheaded as you are.”
“I intend to stay that way. I love him, Dad. There … I said it.”
George jerked his head back. “Love? That’ll get you far. Marriage is hard, and in a couple of years that love you talk about will fade—and coming from the same background and understanding the elite society in which we live, that’ll keep you together. You need a foundation.”
Scarlett’s hands fell down to her lap. “First of all, I’m talking about dating him, not marrying him. I’m only twenty-five, and I have a job I’d like to turn into a career. Besides, Shadow and I do have things in common.” She laced her fingers together. “He’s the one for me,” she whispered.
“The one,” her dad scoffed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that I’m in love with him and I’d do anything for him. It’s that simple and that perfect.”
“You know your mother’s sick about this.” Her dad poured some more whiskey into the glass.
“She’ll survive—she always does. She’ll find some more charities to keep her busy.”
“Don’t talk disrespectfully about your mother. She loves you and wants the best for you.”
“I don’t think so,” she said in a low voice. “Mom wants the best for her. Everything revolves around her.”
Her dad brought the drink to his mouth.
“Why did you and Mom marry? The last time I saw any affection between the two of you was when I was a kid. Did you two ever love each other, or was your marriage one of convenience?”
George looked hard at her over the rim of the tumbler as he drained the last drop of whiskey.
“You young people think you invented love. How naïve and childish. There are all kinds of love … and affection. You don’t have a damn clue. Your mother and I have a quiet understanding—a bond. We’ve been together for a long time. Enough said about that.”
Scarlett wanted to ask him how he thinks her mother feels when he’s with other women, but she held her tongue and glanced over at the window instead. Outside, glittering water danced from the mouths of several stone lions perched around the edge of a large fountain, creating mini rainbows of brilliant prismatic hues.
“I’m not going to break up with him,” she whispered. Leather squeaked as her dad shifted in his chair.
“I know. Just promise me you won’t rush into anything until you get to know him better.”
Glancing at him, she nodded. “That’s fair. Mom will be mad that you’re not reading me the riot act or cutting me off.”
A slow, tired smile whispered across his lips. “Would either of that do any good?”
“No,” she replied.
“Then why go through the motions? You might not believe this, but I want what’s best for you. That’s why I thought Warren would’ve made a good husband.”
“There was nothing sincere about the way you were shoving him down my throat. I can’t believe that you used me as a damn bargaining chip with that loathsome Mr. Huntington. Way to go, Dad.”
“It wasn’t like that.” He held his hand up in front of his face. “Let me finish. Yes, I would’ve received a bargain price on Huntington’s land if you and Warren married, but I really thought the two of you were perfect for each ot
her. He comes from the right background, has a good career … good schooling. What parent wouldn’t want someone like that for their daughter? None—that’s who.”
“Warren didn’t make me happy, and Shadow does.”
“For now.”
“This isn’t just a crush or an infatuation kind of love. My heart hurts just thinking of my life without the joy he brings. That’s the kind of love it is.”
“When everything is great, that works. But life is full of ups and downs, of past events we wish we could change. Life can be wonderful and cruel, and I’ve always wanted to give you the world—to protect you from all the ugly bullshit. I feel like I’ve failed you.”
In that moment, for the first time in her life, Scarlett saw her father as just a man and not as the domineering patriarch of the family.
Her heart squeezed. A lump filled her throat. “You haven’t failed me,” she murmured. Scarlett stood up and went over to her father. “I’ve always thought I disappointed you.”
George shook his head. “I’m sorry I gave you that impression. You never knew your grandfather, but there was never any pleasing my dad. No matter how hard I tried, it was never good enough. I guess I was the same with you and your brothers.”
“You’ve never talked about your childhood or your dad.”
“Because it was a hard one, one I wanted to forget, but it stays here”—he tapped the side of his head—“forever.”
She perched on the arm of his chair, then planted a kiss on the top of his head. He looked up and tweaked her chin, then poured another splash of liquor in the glass. They sat like that for a long time, their silence speaking louder than words, and then Scarlett rose to her feet.
“I have some errands to do,” she said.
A slight nod of his head.
“So … I’ll see you around.” She walked toward the door.
“When do you work next week?”
Scarlett looked over her shoulder at her father. “Tuesday … why?”
“Do you want to meet for lunch at Barney’s?”
“Okay,” she replied, fighting a smile from spreading across her face. She wasn’t sure if she could trust this newest gesture of friendship and … love? Maybe, but I—we have to take baby steps.
“Good. I’ll meet you there at one.” He threw back his glass.
“All right. I guess I’ll see you then. Oh … Dad?”
George looked over at her, his brows raised slightly. “Yes?”
“Do you think Mr. Huntington will hurt Shadow?” The worry of something happening to him sliced through her and jabbed into her gut.
“He’s more talk than anything. Bruce is mad because he’s broke. He thought that if Warren married you, Bruce would reap the benefits. He doesn’t know that I was planning to have his son sign a prenuptial agreement.”
Scarlett chuckled. “You really are looking out for me.”
“Always, and don’t you forget it.”
She smiled. “But you don’t think Shadow’s in danger?”
George rubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t say for sure—money makes people do stupid things, but you should warn Shadow just in case.”
The smile faded and concern lined her face. If something happens to Shadow, I’ll never forgive myself. He may be in danger because of me.
“And don’t go blaming yourself for this. I suspect that Shadow knows how to take care of himself just fine.”
The grandfather clock in the corner chimed, and Scarlett knew her mother would be returning to the house soon. Not wanting to bump into her mom, she fumbled for the keys in the pocket of her sundress and glanced over at her dad.
“I’ll see you.”
“Next Tuesday,” he said.
“Right. Bye.”
She hurried to the garage and slipped inside her car. When she’d first arrived, Scarlett had been prepared to do battle with her father, but now it seemed as though the two of them had an unspoken truce.
Scarlett passed her mother, who didn’t appear to have noticed her, while on the road not too far from her house. She let out a relieved breath. That night she’d make Shadow one of his favorite foods: grilled steak with mushrooms sautéed in butter and white wine. A warm, fuzzy feeling engulfed her when she thought of him. Each day, each hour, Scarlett fell deeper in love with him. Shadow was her safe place—she could turn to him regardless of her mood or situation. She felt completely at ease with him, and that had never happened to her with any other man before.
The car sped up as Scarlett made her way to the grocery store. She wanted to do a quick shopping before heading home to start dinner. She couldn’t wait to see him that night. It seemed like they missed each other whenever they weren’t together, but they were also cool to let each have their space. Shadow liked to hang with his friends and go out riding with the guys, and she loved meeting up with her friends for drinks and a good meal.
“I’m so in love with you,” she said, smiling.
And there was no way in hell Scarlett would let anyone or anything get between her and her man.
Once she parked, Scarlett slipped out of the car, grabbed a cart, and hurried into the store as thoughts of spending a romantic evening with him played in her mind.
Chapter Twenty-One
“When are we gonna meet this woman who’s been occupying most of your time?” Helm asked as he took a joint out from his pocket.
“I don’t know,” Shadow grunted, leaning back in the white wicker chair.
“How do you like these big-ass cushions the club girls bought?” Bones jerked his chin toward the one behind Shadow’s back.
“They’re pretty comfortable. The print is gaudy as all hell—neon pink flamingos and huge-ass flowers? Give me a fuckin’ break.” Shadow stretched out his legs while putting his hands behind his head.
Bones chuckled. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks they’re fuckin’ ugly.”
“I’m not crazy ’bout them either, but there’s no damn way I’m telling the girls that.” Helm placed the joint between his lips, cupped his hand, and lit it.
“They tried, but I gotta say the cushions are comfortable. Way better than the thin ones we had before,” Shadow said.
“So are you living with this girl you’re dating?” Helm asked.
“No, we just hang out a lot,” Shadow said. A lot meant that he spent four to five nights a week, at Scarlett’s condo. He had to admit that he thought maybe they’d get sick of each other by now, but as time had gone by, he’d wanted to be with her even more. It was a totally new experience for him, but then he’d never been in love before. It was mind blowing, exhilarating, and fucking scary all mixed together, but it felt good … perfect even.
“Whatcha thinking about? Your forehead’s all scrunched up like you’re figuring out some hard calculation or some shit like that.” Bones propped a leg up on the ottoman that matched the garish cushions on the patio furniture.
“I suck at math,” Helm added, stubbing out his joint on the bottom of his shoe.
“I was just using that as an example.” Bones rolled his eyes.
“And I was just saying that numbers and I don’t mix. I can’t even begin to figure out those fuckin’ word problems about some kid having six apples, then another having ten oranges … fuck, man.”
Bones leaned forward a bit, the muscles in his face tightening. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Shadow busted out laughing. “You guys are like some damn skit on Comedy Central.”
A mask of confusion spread over Helm’s face. “You’re gonna try out for Comedy Central? I thought we were talking about the kids and the fruit and how many the other kid has. When Animal helps Lucy with that shit, it hurts my brain. Fuck.”
Bones clenched his hands into fists, then unclenched them. “I was never talking about math or apples or whatever the fuck you’re saying. That joint you smoked must’ve had a strong-as-hell strain.”
“Huh?” Helm said as he rested his head on
the back of the chair and closed his eyes. His legs were crossed, and his left leg began to rock back and forth to the music from inside the clubhouse.
Bones cut his gaze to Shadow. “I don’t even remember what the fuck I was saying in the first place.”
“Something about math calculations.” A grin pulled up on his lips.
“Don’t you go starting that shit up. We finally got him to shut the fuck up.” Bones raked his fingers through his hair. “I wonder where he got the stuff.”
“Probably from that new strain our dispensary produced. Hawk said it was kickass. I guess he was right.” Shadow chuckled. “I haven’t tried it yet.”
“Yeah, well, I was just getting ready to punch him to shut him up.” Bones reached over and grabbed a can of beer. “Shit—it’s warm as piss.” He craned his neck, attempting to look around the doorframe into the club. Then he put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. “Wendy! Get out here!”
A curvy brunette in a tight-fitting T-shirt dress sashayed toward them. Her blue eyes danced as she sized up Bones and Shadow.
“What do you boys want?” The tip of tongue slowly skimmed her top lip.
“Fuck,” Bones muttered under his breath.
“Can you bring us two cans of beer.” Shadow picked up the one Bones put back on the tabletop. “This one’s warm.”
“Sure. I don’t know how you guys can stand it out here in the heat.” She glanced up at the ceiling and pointed at the twirling fan. “That’s just moving the hot air around. I’d be melting sitting here.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing your luscious body gleaming in sweat, sweetheart,” Bones said.
Wendy laughed. “I wouldn’t mind seeing yours either. We could slide and slither against each other.”
“That’s an image that’s making my cock wake up.” Bones chuckled low in his throat.
Wendy giggled, and her long nails, painted a hot pink, thrummed against the back of one of the wicker chairs.
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