Possessive Baby Daddy

“Your father’s never going to step down on his own. But he might if I offer him a shitload of money. Can’t you see that?”

“No, I can’t.” I whirl around and glare at him. “You don’t know anything, Shaun. You just waltzed into my life, got me pregnant, asked me to marry you, and now tried to buy my company away from me. So no, I can’t see it. You’ve blinded me. I’m too angry to see a damn thing.”

He frowns and looks away. “I get that. But I’m trying to help.”

“You’re doing a really bad job,” I say. “If you want to help, just go away, okay?”

“You don’t want that,” he says as I turn. “You want me to stay. You want me to touch you again, Klara. You want me to pull you against my chest, press my lips against yours, and make you feel good.”

“Go to hell,” I say, climbing the steps. I don’t stop and I don’t turn around.

Because I know that if I do, he’ll see the lust in my eyes.

He’ll see that he’s absolutely right.

God, I want that. I want that so badly.

But I’m not giving in to him, and I’m not letting him win.8Shaun“Jesus, Shaun, you really are insane.” Lora laughs as I finish telling her what I’ve been up to. “Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I wanted to buy the company and make her president,” I say. “I thought… I thought it would make her happy.”

“You can see why it didn’t though, right?”

I sigh and tilt my head back. It’s ten at night on the West Coast, and two in the morning back at Lofthouse Manor. I knew Lora would still be awake, fortunately. My little sister’s always been a night owl, and since she’s the baby of the family, she has absolutely no responsibilities.

“Not really,” I admit.

“She thinks you’re trying to steal the company,” Lora says with a laugh. “And even if you’re not, she resents you for trying to roll in and save her or whatever.”

“I’m not trying to save her. I’m trying to be a part of her life.”

“By buying her father’s company?” Lora groans. “You Lofthouse men are such idiots.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, Shaun. But not that. Definitely not that.”

“Well, now I’m in this stupid contest with her.”

“Let her win.”

“I think her dad will realize if I do that. And I don’t think he’ll be happy.”

“Then you’re screwed. Sorry, brother, but I think you deserve this one.”

I grunt in response. “You’re a peach.”

“Whatever. Look, I’m tired. It’s after two.”

“I know. What are you even doing awake?”

“I don’t know.” She sighs. “Bored, I guess. Always bored.”

“Why don’t you move out of the manor? You spend all your time there. Aren’t you sick of it?”

“Let’s talk more about your bad decisions, how about that?”

I laugh. “Bye, Lora.”

“Bye, Shaun.”

I hang up the phone and stand. I stretch and yawn. I figure I’ll go to bed, get up early tomorrow to work out, maybe think about how to get out of this bad situation. As I step toward the door, my phone starts to ring again.

I figure it’s Lora, so I answer without looking. “Calling to talk about your awful life choices?”

“Nope,” Aldo’s voice says. “Calling to tell you to head on over to the empty parking lot on Kingsley and West Twelfth. It’s next to an elementary school.”

“You mean, it’s the elementary school’s parking lot?”

“Yeah, whatever. Better leave now. I gave Klara a head start.” He hangs up the phone.

I let out a sigh. I don’t feel like doing this. But at least I haven’t been drinking.

I head inside, get in my car, and find the school he’s talking about. It’s Los Angeles Elementary School, and it’s a forty-minute drive.

“Motherfucker,” I mutter to myself and hit the road.Traffic is sparse but it still takes me way too long to reach the school. I expect her to be halfway finished by the time I pull into the parking lot, but she’s nowhere in sight.

I park and get out of my car. Two enormous canvases are set up side by side. The young guy from the sandcastle contest is standing there looking bored, but he perks up as I walk over.

“Oh! Shaun! Hey, man.”

“Ryan, right?”

He grins and nods. “That’s right, yeah, awesome.”

“I guess Klara isn’t here yet?”

“Not yet.” He frowns and looks at his phone. “She should be coming. I hope. I don’t know. Mr. Funk doesn’t tell me anything.”

“I bet he doesn’t.” I look at the big canvas. It’s leaning back at an angle, and the edges protrude slightly, so I can guess what this whole deal is.

“Okay, well, look. So, this is—”

“It’s a puzzle,” I say, walking over to the closest board.

I pick up a black velvet bag at the base. “These are the pieces. Image goes on the board. Whoever builds it first, wins. Right?”