More Than Want You (More Than Words 1)

He scowls at me—nothing new—as he barges inside, dragging a huge suitcase on wheels behind him. His overstuffed briefcase dangles from one big hand. “Took you long enough. What are you doing, jacking off?”

“No. Nothing you’d care about. Welcome to Maui. This is unexpected. Does your sudden visit have something to do with Mom leaving?”

“Your mother, that ungrateful bitch,” he huffs, then plops himself on the couch. “I fed, clothed, and supported her for thirty-five years. I bought her a lavish house, took her on extravagant vacations all over the world, gave her designer everything. She had two responsibilities. Two. Throw good parties—something she’s never managed without a caterer—and to give me a good-looking family for corporate Christmas cards. You and Griff were exactly what I had in mind, but she had to get knocked up a third time.”

I want to butt in that it takes two to conceive, but clearly he thinks the responsibility for not getting pregnant rested solely on my mother, never mind that he’s both the aggressor and the one with the sperm. What a dick.

He hasn’t changed a bit.

“But fine. Whatever.” Dad tosses a hand in the air. “Harlow was a cute kid. Her fucking wedding is going to cost me a fortune. But Linda couldn’t even manage to raise you kids while I worked my ass off without constantly wanting my input or for me to straighten you boys out. How fucking hard is it to change a few diapers and drive someone to soccer practice?”

My father gives me a disgusted sneer. I can’t imagine why I’m stunned. He’s never hidden the fact that he wants nothing to do with his kids. Playing the family man gave him good corporate optics at a time that shit mattered. He’s good at his job. Great, even. He should be since he’s a workaholic. He has no friends and doesn’t value his family. With every passing year, he’s grown more cynical and bitter.

I can’t stand him.

Even as I’m staring at him, thinking what a grade-A asshole he is and that I shouldn’t let him upset me, the fact that I was nothing more to him than a clean-cut face on a card sent to his associates once a year cuts me deep. Maybe it bothers me so much now because I’m already agitated by the kiss Keeley shared with Griff. I’m fucking bleeding inside at the thought. I don’t need my father’s attitude right now.

“Have you gone mute?” my father hisses, then rakes a hand through his hair. “Jesus, I gave you good genes to work with. Your mother was a beauty queen with half a brain. I’m a self-made billionaire. What’s your problem?”

“It’s just been a long day and I wasn’t expecting you,” I bite out. “So Mom has never been all you want her to be and…what else?”

“She left me. Me. Are you fucking kidding? What did I not give that bitch? My thirty-five best years, a fortune—”

“You didn’t give her love,” I cut in, vaguely aware that I’m sounding like Keeley. Then I swallow because I know Dad won’t understand a word I’ve just said. The shit is about to hit the fan.

“Oh, boo hoo. I knew I shouldn’t have left you here when I moved back to San Diego. Apparently, you’ve grown a vagina since then. You know love is all greeting-card crap.”

Yes, I’ve known how he felt my whole life.

“Linda knows that, too. Love was never part of our deal.”

That throws me for a loop. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he approached marriage like a business agreement. Somehow it kinda does.

“So Mom has finally decided to leave you? Why do you care?”

I don’t know why I’m trying to understand. Dad will cut off her access to all other funds, and within a few weeks she’ll most likely come home. This drama played out when I was four, again when I was eight, and for a final time at fifteen. Since then, their marriage has seemed steadier, though not necessarily happier. But after they came through three incidents in roughly ten years, I’d hoped the last eighteen years without separation meant something.

Obviously not.

“I care because it looks bad! She claims that she’s fallen in love with Marco, some asswipe she met on a dating site for the over-fifty crowd. He likes old movies, antiquing, and wine weekends.” My father rolls his eyes. “What kind of pussy does that sound like?”

The explanation that all people are different and each have various likes and dislikes will only be lost on him. I know from experience, so I don’t waste my breath. But Dad’s explanation still manages to shock me.

“Mom is dating someone else?”

“Yeah. She says she’s moving in with him. Apparently she’s been seeing this bastard for almost a year. And fucking him that long, too.”

Good for her, finally getting some on the side. “Did her decision have anything to do with you finding another new mistress?”

“I suppose.” He slumps down on the sofa, almost pouting like an overgrown kid. “I never hid them. Your mother and I had an understanding. I pulled her out of her dirt-poor farming town in Nebraska, and she performed the two wifely duties I outlined. She never liked sex much, so our arrangement worked. She lost her mind when I told her that Amanda was pregnant.”

“Amanda?”

“My most recent mistress.” He sighs. “She’s due in April. I’m too fucking old to be a father again.”

My world has just tilted on its axis. Now I have to sit down, too. “How old is this woman?”

He doesn’t meet my gaze. “Twenty-five.”

I hate to be judgmental…but I’m grossed out. I never imagined that my old man gave up his mistresses, but I’d hoped that they had somewhat aged with him. “She’s Harlow’s age.”

“I don’t think about it like that. Amanda looks fucking hot in Victoria’s Secret. Or she did.”

Now I’m even more grossed out. “How did you not take precautions to ensure that Amanda didn’t get pregnant?”

“She said she was on the pill. Hell, I’ve seen her prescription since I spent half my nights at her apartment in the city.”

“You could have gotten a vasectomy years ago. You should have if you didn’t want more kids.”

He rears back and stares at me like I’m stupid. I know that look well since I’ve seen it all my life. I actually know what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth.

“No one is cutting off my balls. Besides, Amanda conceiving was a fluke. She seemed equally mortified when the doctor confirmed that she was knocked up. But she refused to have a damn abortion, even when I offered to pay for it.” He waves his hands at me. “Before you unleash whatever blah blah bullshit I see all over your face, she and I are over now.” He shudders. “Never could stand fucking a pregnant woman. Big bellies and leaking tits… Ugh.”

I try not to roll my eyes. The universe has always revolved around him—at least in his mind. Why shouldn’t a woman growing another human being in her womb keep her pre-pregnancy shape for dear old Dad?

“So, you two broke up. Has she asked you for child support?”

“You know she has.” He sounds cynical and pissed off. “I’ll be DNA testing that kid the minute he pops out—it’s another boy. If he’s not mine, I’m going to rip Amanda a new asshole.”

Because that’s what every new mother needs. Why can’t he just thank his lucky stars and move on since he doesn’t want the baby, anyway?

I shake my head at him because I really don’t know what to say. “And if it is yours, now you’ll have four kids.”

“Six,” he grumbles.

“What?” I stare at him like I don’t even know who he is. Honestly, I probably shouldn’t be shocked but I can’t seem to help it. “I have two other half-siblings?”