Chapter Two

Luke

The water from the hot tub still hadn't completely dried in his hair as he smoothed it, holding the polished leather steering wheel in front of him. The GPS bellowed through the Bluetooth speaker, telling him to turn left.

"Thanks again today. I had fun," the blonde purred in the passenger seat.

Brushing her off, Luke readjusted his aviators to shield the scorching sun and activated his blinker. Ever since the nanny had burst in on them, he'd been…irked. Not enough to deny a second orgasm in the hot tub, no. But irked enough to send her packing minutes after they'd completed it.

He was an ass. So sue him.

With a quick glance to his right, his nostrils flared. The nanny hadn't been lying. He didn't know this girl's name. They'd met on an app with one intention. He'd asked her if she was DTF. She'd agreed. He'd picked her up. They'd done their thing. Now, he was driving her home.

Simple. Transactional. And numb. Though he'd never verbalize it.

"So…," the blonde began, twisting her hair into a ponytail. "We should do this again sometime."

When Luke didn't respond and her elastic was safely in place, she set her spotlessly polished, blood-red nails on his top thigh. The provocative touch implied another hook-up before leaving her off, and he thought about taking her up on it.

"What do you think? I mean, I don't know about you but—"

The screech of his phone cut her off. Looking at the screen on the center console, he almost growled.

"Who's Jackson Oden? Is he your father?"

Bending forward, Luke pressed the red button on the touch screen. A chilly quiet hung in the car, combining with the air conditioning as it swirled through the vents.

The girl wasn't smart enough to catch his cool demeanor and began to run her hand up to his crotch.

"Sorry, babe. Gonna happen again today." Luke grasped her wrist and set her hand in her own lap. Folding across her lower lip, she pouted like a bratty kid who was told that she couldn't have ice cream before folding her arms across her tight tits.

Siri's voice sounded through the speakers, advising him that he was approaching his destination on his right before being interrupted by his father's next call.

Turning over, Luke put the vehicle in park and leaned his chin at the girl, motioning for her to get out.

It hadn't disconcerted him when she had opened her own door with no thought at all, showing that she valued herself about the same as he valued her.

Her stiletto heels solidly planted now, she crawled underneath and slid her head through the car roof again before humming for the second time, "Text me."

"See you around, babe."

With a sultry grin, she closed the passenger door then strolled up the walkway as Luke pressed the bitching red button on the touch screen for the second time.

There was no point in playing dumb. His dad would keep calling until he picked up. But sometimes Luke couldn't resist fanning the flames. You know, the ones that had been smoldering like an inferno since the day he turned thirteen.

Then came another ten failed calls, and finally a text.

Jackson Oden: Answer your damn phone, or I sever your credit cards.

Luke's jaw muscles tightened as he read the words.

The screen erupted into life seconds later with another call, and he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. Several more tense seconds went by before he eased up and pushed the answer icon on the touch screen.

"Interesting," his dad said.

"And what's that?"

"Like father like son, boy. We'll do anything for money now, won't we?"

Luke's blood began to boil at the thought of becoming anything like his dad.

"Is there a reason you called?" he growled.

"Just calling to see if my oldest son has finally gotten his head out of his ass."

Dry laugh, headshake. "Nope. Like father like son, huh?"

"Ha-ha, real funny, Luke. I just talked to Amiriam on the phone. She said you're still loafing around the house?"

Of course, the nanny would report.

"Sure am."

"There a reason why? You usually disappear a day or two after coming home for a new credit card once yours wears out from overuse." The sarcasm in his father's voice annoyed Luke's nerves.

Luke let out a slow, deep breath through his mouth before he spoke. "You promised to finally send my inheritance instead of holding it over my head like you've done for the past five years?"

"Don't talk to me like that, Luke. Since your mother left, you've been a spoiled little brat, and I've had my fill of it. I did not promise to give you your inheritance. I promised to discuss how we can make it possible. Don't play with words, boy."

You have got to be kidding me.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Luke wished for patience.

"So, you're not going to deed away my inheritance?" He covered his incredulity with a voice of nonchalance.

"I have a few conditions before I give your money back. Though I will admit that it amuses me that I pay off your credit cards without interrogating you about any of it, but then you still keep on piling up the bill without batting an eyelash. Why not simply let me just sign it over to you when you spend everything I have anyway?"

"Come on, Bob. Sign off my inheritance as quickly as possible and be rid of me once and for all. No more endless bills for you to pay. They'll all be in my name at last."

"Don't call me Bob," Luke's father growled. "You know how much I hate that kind of disrespect. And they might be in your name today if you'd get your head out of your butt and work hard."

Luke chuckled. "And how exactly would I do that, Father? I'm your dumb son, remember? The only reason I graduated high school was that you bribed my teachers."

"You left me with no choice. You refused to go! And what if my oldest son never graduated from high school?"

"Why do you think I flunked all my classes to start with?" Luke had growled back at him with a self-congratulatory smile. He was no idiot. Not by a long shot. He'd just never put all that much effort into it, because it had always been easier this way. Let them down on the first try, instead of putting everything you've got into it only to fall short again.

His father's stern tone cut through his self-deprecating daydream. "You think you're punishing me by being a failure, but the only one you're hurting is yourself."

Luke stared out the windshield, his father's words ringing in his mind as he took in the city skyline. Any ordinary human would be at peace with a view like that. He wasn't. He hadn't been, really, for years.

"Do you ever plan to get me off your leash?" he prodded. "The only reason you haven't signed away my inheritance is because you like telling me when to jump and I have no option but to reply, 'How high?' So, how high, Daddy Dearest? What do you demand from me now?"

"You want to play hardball, Luke? You want your inheritance so damn badly you'll do anything to get it?"

A part of Luke died when he played his father's game. "Yes."

"Then find a wife. Find a purpose. And stop being a screwup."

And with that, the call went dead.