“Upstairs or downstairs?” Damien asked.
“The downstairs one. Wait, there are two?”
I didn’t hang around for the rest of the conversation. Inside, I followed the sound of a TV, across a massive entryway, down a paneled hall, and into a tastefully decorated living room, with cream leather sofas, and a fluffy rug in front of the fireplace.
My father sat in an armchair, his feet up and his gaze glued to the flatscreen TV on the wall.
“Dad.”
“Nut!” he croaked it, and it was as if I’d left a different man behind at the start of the weekend. Had it only been three days? My father was paler, thinner, with dark circles under his eyes, the last tufts of his gray hair standing on end.
My throat tightened. A meow came from my father’s lap. Mr. Piddlywump rose and stretched, arching his ginger back. He purred frantically at the sight of me but didn’t jump off my father and run over.
“Piddles here has been keeping me company all weekend,” my dad said and stroked the kitty cat. “He’s barely left my lap.”
“That’s sweet.” I swallowed emotion and walked over to my father. “I’m sorry I had to go, Dad.” I dropped my handbag next to his chair and crouched down, throwing my arms around his neck and hugging him tight. That familiar Dad smell was bittersweet, this time.
“Don’t be silly, Nut. I wanted you to have a good time with Damien. He’s a good man.”
“Dad. It’s not like that. Damien and I are just friends.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” I pulled back, sitting on my haunches, my hands on his forearm now.
“I miss your mother every day, you know. Every day.”
I choked up. My mother had died when I was twenty-one, and there wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t miss her too. “Don’t you wish… Dad.” I glanced over my shoulder then met his gaze. “Don’t you kind of wish that you hadn’t… gotten married? Or fallen in love? I mean, if you’d never met or if you hadn’t gone out with her, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
My father took a deep breath and rested one of his hands on mine. “You can’t have love without pain, Nut. That’s just how life works. One way or another, it will wind up hurting,” he said. “And I would not have given up what I had with your mother, or the fact that I have you girls, for anything in the world. Not money. Not a life free of pain. Nothing. That’s just what love is.”
I forced myself to swallow the tears. “OK.”
“Now, don’t ask me anymore depressing questions. Come sit down and tell me about your trip. Did you have fun?”
“We went golfing.”
Dad pulled a face. “Doesn’t sound like much fun.”
I laughed and scratched Piddlywump behind the ears, reluctant to leave my father’s side now that I was back. He could say what he wanted, but I couldn’t shake the guilt of having him left him here. Christ, there’d been a fire. If I’d been around, it never would’ve happened because Kara wouldn’t have gotten back inside the house.
“What else did you do?” Dad asked.
I told him about hanging out at the pool and how great the restaurant was, and that we’d gone crazy riding up and down in the golf cart, but that we’d spent most of the afternoon packing to get back.
“You shouldn’t have come. We’re fine. Well, now, we are, thanks to Damien. Ah! Here he is.” My dad positively beamed at my fake fiancé.
“Settling in all right, Mr. McCutcheon?”
“Just great, thank you, Damien.” My father struggled like he wanted to get up.
“Don’t,” Damien said.
“I want to shake your hand, son. You’ve done me a real service by helping out.”
Damien came forward and shook my father’s hand. “No need to get up. But can I get you anything else? You hungry? Have any favorites?”
“Not hungry, no.”
“When last did you eat, Dad?” I asked.
“This morning, I think.”
“Then we’ll get pizza,” I said. “Or Mexican? Tacos?”
My father shrugged.
“Tacos it is,” Damien said and left us alone.
And there I was, appreciating his hospitality and how nice he was to my father, the fact that he hadn’t complained about my shedding cat or my half-naked, seriously weird sister. Except it was all part of the contract and nothing more.
Keep telling yourself that.
25
Damien
The following evening…
The last place I wanted to spend the evening was at some snooty event that was supposed to be for charity but was really nothing but a giant dick-measuring contest for people like my father. The only relief I had from the bullshit was Hazel.
She was gorgeous in a form-fitting silk dress, her cleavage popping, the engagement ring sparkling on her hand. Christ, I had to keep reminding myself that the weekend of fun was over and being inside her again would only be torture at this point.
It had to end.
She was just a business partner now.
But entering the hall only heightened my desire for her.
Men and women near the entrance to the hotel’s events hall turned and stared at us. Eyebrows raised, lips pursed, men clutched their partners all while checking out Hazel like they’d never seen a woman before.
Or an angel.
I ran my hand down her back and settled it in the small of her back, the heat of her body already driving me wild.
Calm down. You can’t do anything anymore. It’s over.
What would be worse? Having her again or being without the physical contact for thirty days? And then never seeing her again. Either way, Hazel wasn’t here to stay, and I’d known that from the start.
I wasn’t cut out for long-term relationships. I’d learned that from experience and from watching my father. If I was anything like him…
“This place is amazing,” Hazel said.
“I didn’t notice.” I’d been too busy coveting her.
The events hall was all polished wooden flooring and crystal chandeliers. Tables spread through the room, pulled back from a small
