Dirty Boy (3 page)

“Mom invited Ryker, Eric, Win, Alan, and their wives to tonight’s celebration.”

“They won’t come,” he told her, refilling his glass. “They don’t like your mother.”

They didn’t like her, either. “Mom never did them anything.”

“Except marry our father.”

She frowned. It sounded as if Max held that against Babs, too. “Give her a chance, you’ll see—”

“Why the fuck would I give a woman a chance who sets up her sixteen-year-old,
virginal
daughter to be fucked by me?”

Story suspected that was true, so she wouldn’t get offended. “My mom means well.” She let the statement hang in the air but it still didn’t impress him.

Grabbing her glass and drinking again, Story considered her options. She could continue to allow Mac to think the worst of her flighty mother or she could explain Babs’ actions at the cost of her own embarrassment. Her mom was her mom, so she drank again, once more needing courage.

“M-mom knows I have a crush on you,” she explained, avoiding looking directly at him. “She probably thought getting you here for me would be a gift.”

“I see.”

He could be as cold as he was charming. She didn’t like this side of him, at all. But it was a part of who he was, so she had to accept it. “Mom had me when she was really young. On her sixteenth birthday, she was already pregnant with me and—”

“And why fuck with success?” Max interrupted. “Popping out a kid got her the lifestyle she wanted so you should follow in her footsteps.”

That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Having Story had almost ruined Babs. She wouldn’t go into detail. Max would believe any explanation a play for sympathy. But his irritation made her hesitate to broach any other subjects. She’d dug a deeper hole for her mom. Probably for herself, too.

Glaring at her, Max took in her hair, her eyes, her lips, and her cleavage.

Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Don’t blush
.

She blushed.

He grimaced and drained his second glass of champagne. She hadn’t finished her first. He refreshed both their glasses.

Story stood. “I think I’m going to head down,” she said, wanting to get away from him before she embarrassed herself even further.

As she started past, Max grabbed her hand. “I’m being an asshole. Taking out my problems on you.” Turning toward her, he settled his hands on her waist and pulled her into the ‘v’ of his thighs. “I didn’t grow up with girls in the house, so I didn’t know what to get you for a present. I hope you like the champagne. Armand de Brignac.”

“You being here is the best birthday gift ever.”

Max grinned. Story cringed.

Taking her face between his hands, he drew her forward and brushed his lips over hers. An embarrassing little squeak escaped her at the contact. Thank goodness, it didn’t deter Max. He covered her mouth with his, his tongue tickling her lips, demanding entry.

As she opened her mouth, she slipped her fingers through his hair. She’d always wanted to touch the black strands, see if they were as soft as she imagined. They were silky and cool against her heated skin. He tasted of mint and champagne, a heady combination unlike any she’d experienced.

She grunted, and he tore his mouth from hers. Disappointment hit her hard.

This was Story’s first kiss and it opened her to a new world. The sensations streaking through her were brand new, too. Even when she brought herself to orgasm, she didn’t feel the intensity.

They stared at each other for a long minute before Max leaned in and stole a last kiss from her. “We have to get downstairs,” he said huskily. “My father would have my ass for kissing you.”

Probably not. Winston paid her only cursory attention. Her mother, on the other hand, would have a fit. It didn’t matter that Max believed otherwise. Story felt differently.

He held Story’s glass to her lips. Story sipped from it, holding Max’s gaze.

“I didn’t come here to fuck you.”

“I know.”

He offered her more champagne, then stepped back.

Story drew in a deep breath, his sudden awkwardness rubbing off on her.

“My life’s complicated. My work. My business. My
life
,” he reiterated.

“Is that why Winston doesn’t talk about you too much? He always goes on about his other boys. With you…not so much.” She didn’t even know where he lived. Maybe, he visited so infrequently because he resided in another city or state. When she saw he wouldn’t answer, she took up his conversation. “My life’s complicated, too. School. Science and math labs. Study Hall.”

Shame swept across his features before he forced a chuckle. “Do you want me to stay for your dinner?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Please, don’t leave. This will be our wonderful secret. I’ll never tell anyone, even if you walk away tonight and I never see you again.”

Max considered her answer, then held out his arm. “In that case, please allow me to escort you downstairs, Miss Thornton.”

A week after Story’s birthday, Max returned to his father’s estate. He had a golf game to win. Shamefully, he also hoped to see Story. He could do without returning to her room that looked as if it puked
Hello Kitty
shit in every corner of her room.

The night of her dinner, he’d made several errors, none of which he was proud of. For him to even own up to mistakes took a lot. Kissing her senseless, to him, constituted a
lot
.

He shouldn’t have accepted Babs’ invitation in the first place, but he had nothing to stop him from missing his kid.

“Son,” Winston greeted, walking into the room, arm extended for a handshake.

“Hi, Dad.”

Winston glanced around. “I thought my grandson would be with you.”

“Kayleigh wouldn’t allow me to take him. She’s been bringing him to Point Fermin for the past few days.” At least she
said
she’d been bringing him to the place. Supposedly, Simon enjoyed his time there immensely, she didn’t want to interrupt that since he missed his dad so much.

Never mind
she
kept Max and Simon apart.

Ten days after Max first met Story so many weeks ago, Kayleigh had taken their son and walked out. A month later, she’d filed for divorce and full custody of Simon. Max’s love for his wife may have died an ignoble death, but he adored his son.

His phone buzzed and he took it out of his pocket. He grimaced. Kayleigh was calling with more bullshit.

“What can I do for you?” he answered, seeing no need for pleasantries. They hated each other.

“I’ve decided to take your suggestion,” Kayleigh slurred out.

Max frowned. “Are you drinking?”

She hiccupped and ignored his question. “Why don’t you, Winston, and whoever else will play your stupid golf game, come and see Simon? I have something I want you to see. All of you.”

“Fine.”

“Come on out and enjoy the day with us because that’s what Simon wants. Your father and brothers would cancel their game for you.”

“No, it’s to see Simon. You only bring him to Dad’s office,” he bit out.

“You’re lucky I do that,” she spat. “They all condone what you do. You’re a fucking manwhore.”

If listening to her verbal abuse meant seeing his son for a little while and giving his father and brothers a chance to see him, then he’d suffer through it. “I’ll be there in an hour. Let me round everyone up.”

If only the difficult bitch would’ve agreed to his request earlier, they could already be there. Perhaps, she wouldn’t be drunk. Now, he’d have to leave Simon with his father and brothers, and take Kayleigh to the nearest rehab facility, even if he had to pay her to agree.

“Change of plans, Dad,” Max said, then told Winston why.

“I don’t like this,” Winston told him. “Kayleigh isn’t a woman who does something out of the kindness of her heart. She’s up to something.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Winston’s lips tightened. “I’ll meet you there, Max. Let me find Babs to tell her of my changed plans.”

“Call her,” Max suggested, hard-pressed to keep the distaste from his tone.

“I’d prefer to see her,” Winston said with a huge smile.

“Where’s Story?” he couldn’t resist asking.

“Who?”

“Your stepdaughter. Remember? The girl who turned sixteen a week ago.”

Winston shrugged. “Around. She does her own thing. I don’t have time for young female drama, so we stay out of each other’s way.”

“She’s a very gorgeous girl. Someone has to protect her before she ends up pregnant for lack of supervision.”

“We’d get her an abortion. It’s fine. She’s young and I’m wealthy. I can fix whatever problems she runs into.”

“How very fatherly of you,” Max said dryly.

“I couldn’t imagine having a real daughter, Max,” Winston admitted. “Girl children frighten me. Thank God I had only boys.”

“Suppose Simon had been a Simone?”

“Then we’d be going to a golf game, not hunting her down.”

Shaking his head and chuckling, Max headed out, determined to check on Story as soon as possible.

Point Fermin was a series of tree-shaded lawns, comfortable pergolas, and bright gardens situated along the promenade of San Pedro’s seaside bluffs. The view toward Santa Catalina Island was stunning, and removed some of Max’s anxiety. He didn’t trust Kayleigh with the way she’d sounded. This place, so filled with natural beauty, had been the scene of countless tragedies through accidental falls or purposeful jumps. Through the tall palms, the lighthouse rose up, but Max directed his strides toward Kayleigh, where she stood near the edge of the promenade, looking toward the rocky shoreline below.

His son, Simon, ran in circles near his mother, enjoying his solitary play.

“Kayleigh,” he called, not wanting to frighten her and send her tumbling over.

She turned and halted.

“Max,” Winston called, from behind. He must’ve left not long after Max.

“Dad! Granddad!” Simon screeched, the breeze blowing through his hair and the sunlight haloing him.

“Uncle Ryder! Uncle Eric!” he called.

Max looked over his shoulder to see his two younger brothers approaching.

“Win and Alan can’t make it,” Eric said.

They rarely could, always so involved in a business deal.

“Why don’t we get lunch and then come back for a picnic,” Max suggested, wanting to spend as much time as possible with Simon. “If you all want to go to the course without me, we can do a game some other time.” He’d achieved his goal. His family had seen his son, after months of being denied.

“We’re fine,” Winston assured him, smiling as Simon ran circles around them.

At one time, his dad played football and baseball with them. He’d served as little league coach and taught them about cars. Max thought his father would’ve been just as good being a dad to a girl, but he appreciated him for the man he was growing up.

Simon ran to Max. “I saw a hole over there.” He pointed to the left. “Momma said a fairy lives there.”

Crouching to eye-level with his son, Max smiled. “Maybe, elves,” he told him, enjoying the way his son’s eyes lit up.

As a child, Max had wanted to rush and grow up. He hadn’t appreciated the innocence of just
being.
He thought he’d never recapture that magic but looking at the world through the eyes of Simon brought him back. If only for a moment.

“Come and kiss momma,” Kayleigh called.

Immediately, Simon wiggled away from Max and bounded into her arms.

Max got to his feet and turned to his father. They shared amused looks, collectively happy at Simon’s enthusiasm.

“Max!” Ryker called, frowning in Kayleigh’s direction, as Simon’s frightened little voice said, “Dad!”

In the moment he’d looked away, Kayleigh had backed closer to the cliff’s edge, clutching Simon’s hand.

“Kayleigh,” Max said, his heart starting to beat hard and fast. The terror on his son’s face was like a kick in Max’s gut. “Kayleigh, you’re too close to the edge.” He started toward her.

She backed up a step and Simon began to struggle away from her.

“Keep still, son,” Max advised, not wanting him to inadvertently send them over.

“Kayleigh, let’s talk,” Winston said, beside Max.

“It’s okay, Simon,” Max soothed, his son’s tears nauseating him. He looked at his wife and took another step toward her.

“Stay back!” she warned, wildness creeping into her eyes.

Lifting his hands, Max froze. “I’m not moving another muscle. You come to me. Okay? You’re in control.”

“Liar!” she screamed. “I’ve never been in control with you. I hate you! I hate your son! I hate all of you.”

Simon’s little face scrunched up. “Momma?”

If Max could make himself disappear to settle Kayleigh down, he would. Anything to keep his son safe. “I’ll retire now,” he said, desperate. “Just come to me with Simon. I’m begging you.”

Eric inched next to Max. “Why don’t we go back to the house? I’ll call your parents.”

“While you’re getting better, we’ll see to Simon,” Winston told her, fear in his eyes.

“None of you are taking him! He belongs to me. He’s mine.”

Three wine bottles littered the clearing. Max needed to calm her. She wasn’t thinking clearly. “Simon is yours,” he agreed, ignoring his son’s wails to focus on his wife. “You gave birth to him, sweetheart.”

“I hate you so much,” she yelled around tears. “I’ve thought of so many ways to destroy you.”

“Daddy,” Simon sniffled, attempting to come to Max.

He went forward to rush to his son, but Kayleigh grabbed Simon’s small shoulders and yanked him backwards.

A horrible premonition hit Max, but he shoved it away.

Kayleigh continued to talk and spew insults, her anger growing to dangerous levels.

Max got his cell phone. “Let me call someone.”

“Put that phone away before I jump. I didn’t give you permission to get that.”

“Right.” He shoved the phone into his pocket, searching his head for a way to talk her down.

“How does it feel to be so helpless?”

“You’ve never been helpless,” he told her, attempting to keep his voice, even as he crept closer to her. “What do you want from me? Tell me. I’ll give you anything.”

“I hate you so much,” she stressed. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Kayleigh, please.” Max was on the verge of breaking down, watching his son shake with terror and fear, watching a once proud woman unhinge. “I’ll jump over the fucking cliff if it means saving Simon.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Max knew…he
knew
it was the wrong thing to say. She hissed at him.

“You, too,” he added quickly.

“I’ll bet you would,” she sneered.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” Simon sniffled.

“Keep still, son,” Max directed. “Don’t upset mom.”

She was so close to the edge, her grip so tight on Simon that Max feared encouraging his boy to run. She might yank him over the edge.

Kayleigh cuffed the side of Simon’s head. “Shut up!”

Anger flashed through Max. He refused to stand by while she abused his son, so he went toward her, seeing his father and brothers fall into line beside him out of the corners of his eyes.

“Stay!” she yelled, her desperation halting him once more. Frightening him.

Max was so fucking scared, Simon’s sobs and shakes not helping him.

“Kayleigh, I beg you.
Please
. I’ll hand my life over to you.” Max’s voice cracked, but he didn’t care. Not even her triumphant gleam mattered. His father put a hand on his shoulder.

Kayleigh made a face at the gesture.

Not wanting to infuriate her more, Max dropped to his knees. “Let…”
Simon go
died on his lips. She wouldn’t appreciate that. “Let’s talk,” he said instead. “You and me. Please. I’m begging you.”