Taking Control (Babysitting a Billionaire #3)

Jess.

“And after that you were even worse. Always perfect.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Declan muttered.

“Baby brother,” Logan put in, “you’re a goddamned machine.”

Declan ignored the comment, and his mother continued, “I thought when you became engaged to Penny, things would be better, but in fact they were worse. She was just another symptom. I was glad when you split up. I told your father he had to do something.”

“Something?”

“Shake you up, bring you back to life. Come on, Declan, tell me, are you happy? Have you ever been happy?”

“Once.” He swallowed his drink, leaned forward, and poured another. He glanced up at his father. “So employing Jess was just your way of stirring things up. Stirring me up.”

He shrugged. “If I’m honest, I’d given up. You were the perfect businessman. Hard to remember you were my son. But you got no pleasure from it. And I had no clue how to reach you. By the time you took that bullet I was willing to try anything. Jesus, I stood across from you in that hospital, you’d just been shot, and all you could think of was getting to some bloody meeting on time.”

It appeared that Jess wasn’t the only one to see through him, after all. He hadn’t realized his family had felt like this about him. Had he really been so bad? “So you interfered? Again.”

“When her name came up on the file, I couldn’t believe it. Didn’t at first—I presumed it had to be someone else. You know she has a medal for gallantry under fire.”

No he hadn’t. The report hadn’t mentioned that.

“She’s a goddamn hero. I would have put her down as a model or an actress. God, she was a beauty before that scar.”

He gritted his teeth. “She’s still a beauty.”

“I am so looking forward to meeting this woman,” Logan said.

Declan leaned forward, glared at his brother. “Keep the hell away from her.”

“Not a chance in hell, baby brother.”

“So, yes,” Rory said. “I thought she might stir things up a little. Bring you back to life.” His gaze dropped down over Declan, and his lips twitched. “And looking at you now, I’m guessing she succeeded.”

“But what for? Why bother?”

“Because you’re my son and I love you.”

The thing was, Declan didn’t doubt it. He sprawled back in his chair and scrutinized his father. “Well, I hope you’re not anticipating a happy ever after here because according to Jess, that’s never going to happen.” He nodded at the check that lay on the table between them. “She had that framed on her bedroom wall.”

Rory grinned. “You know, I actually like her.”

“I don’t think the feeling is mutual. And pity you didn’t realize that ten years ago.”

“Oh, I realized it, but it would never have worked back then. You were both too young and whatever you say—that girl had issues.”

“Yeah, and you really helped with those.”

“I’m not a fucking social worker. And it will all work out in the end.”

“Love will find a way,” Logan added, amusement clear in his voice.

“Jesus.” Declan raked a hand through his hair. His family thought he was a fucking goddamned robot. And a miserable, un-fun-loving bastard. And they were no doubt right. After Jess, he’d stopped fighting it, just accepted his role in life, hadn’t cared enough to change anything.

He remembered Jess saying that they were still so different. That even if they overcame the most obvious obstacles there would always be that fundamental difference between them.

But he was going to show her she was wrong.

The phone rang on the desk, and Rory picked it up and listened. “That was Pete. The guests are arriving and your girlfriend has just turned up.”

The three on the sofa all stood as one. “I can’t remember when I last looked forward to a party quite so much,” Logan murmured as he passed Declan.

“I’m so glad one of us is having fun.”

He didn’t move as they all exited leaving him alone with his father.

“You want me to talk to her?” he asked.

“Hell, no,” Declan said.

“Just give me a moment and we’ll go through together. I need to change my shirt, some asshole just broke my nose. And on my birthday.”

Declan sat, sipping his drink, contemplating the evening ahead. If Jess had her way, this would be the last time he saw her.

So he had to make sure that she didn’t get her own way. She was too used to it anyway. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who needed shaking up.

…

The memories swamped her.