Page 2 of Risque (Pack It In #1)
Jaxon
I stalk toward the far side of my office, glaring down at the parking lot to see someone who should definitely not be here lingering around the cars toward the back. It takes me two seconds to punch in his number and surprise, he answers.
“What, Dad ?”
My stepson and I have never truly gotten along, especially when I didn’t just hand him the keys to the Epicurea kingdom. He needed to earn it and the little shit did everything but that. When his mother died, the love of my life, it only got worse.
I continue to watch him prowl around a certain car, a beat-up sedan that looks like it’s seen better days. “What are you doing in my parking lot?”
“You can’t keep me from the fucking parking lot. Why are you spying on me?”
“If you mean, why am I looking out the window of a building I own and happen to see my son lurking at a place that he told me he’d never set foot on? Then yes, I’m spying. Whoever’s car that is deserves a little more respect than you’re giving it. Explain.”
Silence meets my demand and I’m tempted to force my Alpha bark into it but in the end, it’s not worth it. If Nolan tries something truly asinine, then the cops will be called. Very few people know that he’s my son and therefore I would have no reservations calling the emergency number.
“Nolan.”
“Fuck! Fine. One of your employees has something of mine and said I could come get it but the car isn’t unlocked. I’ll call him again later.”
I would call him on his bullshit if I cared, if I truly wanted to continue this father-son relationship but I don’t.
It’s out of courtesy that I still look after him.
However, Nolan is nearing his 30s and he no longer needs a guiding hand.
If he won’t listen, I’m not going to force it.
Unfortunately, there are still a few things I must discuss with him, things his mother left behind for her son that Nolan still hasn’t claimed.
“We should meet for dinner, maybe lunch?” The thought of forcing myself to eat something doesn’t sit well with me, but for Nolan, I’d do it.
For some reason, since my wife, Selena, passed away, I can’t smell or taste anything.
The doctor says it’s heartbreak, but it’s been too long.
It’s a defect and it’s one I can’t afford.
Again, I wait for Nolan’s response.
When I try to find him again, he’s halfway across the street. “Look, I get that you mean well, pops but we’re never going to be tight. And with Mom gone, there’s nothing tying us together. So… drop it?”
I let out a heavy breath, running my fingers through my hair as I step over to the mirror to straighten my collar.
I barely recognize this tired version of myself, graying auburn hair pulled back into a manicured bun, my beard speckled with the colors of my youth.
It’s the weariness that catches me off guard the most, though.
Work has become my obsession, my entire life.
With no one to return home to, I can only block out that part by emerging into the business I created.
“Stay safe, Nolan.”
And then I hang up, a pang in my chest growing as if I have lost the last living piece of the woman who stole my heart.
I fall into a seat, my gaze moving to the one personal item on my desk—a picture of Selena and I wrapped around each other.
She was the only woman I ever settled for, a fierce Alpha with an even stronger heart, bringing a beautiful young man in tow.
I fell head over heels with her and adopted Nolan immediately.
The problem now is that Nolan won’t give me a moment to talk. He won’t let me explain the reality of the situation.
The fact that legally Nolan is my son.
My phone rings and I pick it up, my brows furrowing as someone starts shouting on the other line about samples delivered to their store. I let out a heavy breath and assume the full force of my Alpha before responding.
As much as I need a break, there’s just no time.
There’s never any time.