Filthy Rich Single Daddies (Filthy Rich Harems #2)

9. Cohen

Chapter 9

Cohen

T he glowing numbers on my watch mock me as I slouch in my leather chair, waiting for Austin to wrap up his last meeting. The three of us drove in together this morning, a decision I'm now regretting as the minutes tick by.

The door to my office swings open, and Theo lopes in, his casual grace a stark contrast to my restless energy. Without a word, he flops onto the leather couch across from my desk, his long legs sprawling out in front of him. His eyes are glued to his phone, a frown creasing his forehead.

I want to ask what's wrong, but the words stick in my throat. There's something in the set of his shoulders, the downward curve of his mouth, that makes me hesitate. Whatever's on that screen, it's hit him hard. And I have a sinking feeling I know what—or who—it is. I don’t want to go there.

Theo's green eyes flick up to meet mine for a brief moment before returning to his phone. "You look like shit, man," he says, his voice carrying that dry humor I've come to expect from him.

I snort, leaning back in my chair. "Thanks. I was going for the 'overworked single dad who can't remember the last time he slept' look. Nailed it, right?"

He chuckles, but it's half-hearted at best. I watch as his thumb scrolls, his expression growing more pained with each swipe. The urge to ask burns in my chest, but I swallow it down. Some things are better left unsaid, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.

"Austin still in that meeting?" Theo asks, finally setting his phone face-down on his chest.

I nod, glancing at my watch again. "Yeah. Should be wrapping up soon, though."

Theo hums in acknowledgment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head, memories playing out behind those intense green eyes. It's a look I know all too well—the same one I see in the mirror when thoughts of my ex-wife creep in.

"You want to grab a drink after this?" I find myself asking, surprising even myself with the offer. "Looks like we could both use one."

Theo's lips quirk up in a small smile. "Make it two, and you've got a deal."

The office door slams open, startling both Theo and me. Austin storms in, his usually impeccable appearance slightly disheveled, tie loosened, and a few strands of dark blonde hair falling across his forehead.

"Women," he spits out, pacing the length of my office. "Nothing but trouble, the lot of them."

I lean back in my chair, running my hands through my hair and over my face. The tension in the room is palpable, crackling like electricity. Austin's intensity is a force of nature, and I can feel Theo tensing on the couch beside me.

"What happened?" I ask, my voice steady despite the knot forming in my stomach. "What's got you so worked up?"

Austin whirls to face me, his blue eyes stormy. "What happened? What always happens, Cohen. They take and take and take, and when there's nothing left, they find new ways to drive you insane."

I watch him, noting the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands clench and unclench at his sides. This isn't just about his ex-wife; there's something else simmering beneath the surface.

"Is it Brielle again?" I probe gently, knowing I'm treading on thin ice. "Or is there something else going on?"

Austin's laugh is bitter, cutting through the air like a knife. "Brielle, Skylar, does it matter? They're all the same in the end."

At the mention of Skylar's name, my heart skips a beat. I feel a haze of memories associated with her that I can’t quite grasp, no matter how hard I try. It happens every time I think of her. I’m certain I know her from somewhere, I just can’t place her. Now's not the time, though.

"Come on, man," Theo pipes up from the couch, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "You can't lump them all together like that. Skylar's different."

I watch as Austin's gaze snaps to Theo, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. "Is she? Or are you just too blinded by those pretty eyes to see the truth?"

The tension in the room ratchets up another notch. I find myself standing, moving between my brother and my friend, hands raised in a placating gesture. "All right, let's all take a breath here. Austin, what exactly happened?"

Austin's nostrils flare, his jaw clenching as he spits out, "Brielle showed up at the house. Tried to force her way inside." His eyes narrow, voice dripping with disdain. "And you know how I found out? A fucking text from Skylar."

I feel my brow furrow, confusion settling in. "What did you expect her to do?"

Austin doesn't answer, just continues to fume, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I can practically see the steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, I wonder if he's going to start huffing and puffing, ready to blow the whole office down like some corporate Big Bad Wolf.

So much for that drink, I guess.

"Look," I say, trying to keep my voice level, "we should probably head home. Sort this out there."

Theo jumps up from the couch, eager to escape the tension. "Shotgun!" he calls, already heading for the door.

I roll my eyes, following behind as Austin storms out, keys jangling angrily in his hand. As we pile into the car, I can't help but feel a twinge of apprehension. Austin's always been a bit of a speed demon, but when he's pissed? It's like being strapped into a rocket with a death wish.

The engine roars to life, and we peel out of the parking lot, tires screeching. I grip the door handle, my knuckles turning white as Austin weaves through traffic, barely missing a delivery truck.

"Whoa there, Speed Racer!" Theo quips from the front seat, his laughter tinged with nervousness. "I'd like to make it home in one piece, if possible."

I reach up and slap him on the shoulder. Now's not the time for jokes, even if gallows humor is Theo's go-to coping mechanism.

As we narrowly avoid sideswiping a minivan, I can't help but wonder if we'll actually make it home at this rate. My mind drifts to Skylar, to the situation waiting for us. I just hope we live long enough to face it.

Thank fuck we do. Though, it was a close call.

As we pull into the driveway, my heart rate finally begins to slow. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, the tension draining from my body as the car comes to a full stop. Home. Safe. Thank God.

We pile out of the car, Austin still radiating anger, Theo unusually quiet. I lead the way, pushing open the front door, bracing myself for whatever chaos might await us.

But the scene that greets me stops me dead in my tracks.

There, on the living room couch, is Skylar. She's curled up with Lucas and Elodie on either side of her, a large storybook spread across their laps. Her soft voice carries through the room as she reads, "And the prince said..."

I can't move. Can't breathe. The sight of her there, so at ease with our children, hits me like a punch to the gut.

"Well, isn't this cozy," Austin mutters behind me, his tone sharp.

I barely register his words. My eyes are locked on Skylar's face, watching the way her lips move as she reads, the gentle curve of her neck as she leans down to show the kids a picture.

"Dad!" Lucas spots us first, his face lighting up. "Come listen to the story!"

Skylar looks up, her eyes meeting mine. For a moment, I swear I see a flicker of...something. Hurt? Anger? It's gone before I can place it.

"I didn't hear you come in," she says, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of tension.

I force myself to step forward, to breathe. "Don't stop on our account," I manage, my voice rougher than I intended. "Looks like you've got quite the captive audience."

As I sink into a nearby armchair, I can't shake the feeling of déjà vu. It's like I'm seeing double—the present moment overlaid with a hazy memory of another time, another life.

Maybe it really is another life. A life where this scene wouldn't be so jarring, so...achingly beautiful.

My chest tightens with an unexpected surge of possessiveness. I want to freeze this moment, to protect it. To keep Skylar here, safe and warm, surrounded by the laughter of our children.

It's ridiculous. Dangerous. But as I watch her tug one of Elodie's ringlets, I can't deny the longing that courses through me. For what, exactly, I'm not sure.

All I know is that I want more of this. More of her. And that terrifies me more than Austin's death-defying driving ever could.

Austin's voice cuts through the room like a whip, shattering the tranquil moment. "What the hell was Brielle doing here?" he demands, his eyes narrowing on Skylar.

I tense, watching as Skylar's posture shifts. She gently disentangles herself from the kids, her movements deliberate and controlled. The warmth in her eyes hardens to steel as she meets Austin's glare.

"Your ex-wife showed up uninvited," Skylar replies, her tone clipped. "I handled it."

Austin scoffs, taking a step closer. "Handled it? That's all you have to say? I want details, Skylar. Now."

I feel the tension in the room ratchet up a notch. Skylar rises to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest. "She demanded to see Lucas. I refused. She left. End of story."

"And you didn't think to call me?" Austin's voice drops dangerously low.

Skylar doesn't back down. "I texted. You said you were in meetings all day. I made a judgment call."

As I watch them face off, I'm struck by the crackling energy between them. It's like watching two alpha predators circling each other, each refusing to show weakness. The air feels charged, electric.

A knot forms in my stomach, an uncomfortable mix of admiration and...jealousy? I try to shake it off, but it clings to me like a second skin. I've never seen anyone stand up to Austin like this, matching him blow for verbal blow.

"A judgment call?" Austin practically snarls. "This isn't some corporate takeover, Skylar. This is my son we're talking about."

"I'm well aware," Skylar snaps back. "And I protected him, which is my job. Or have you forgotten why I'm here?"

I can't tear my eyes away from them. The fire in Skylar's eyes, the tension in Austin's jaw—it's mesmerizing. And deeply unsettling. I find myself wanting to step between them, to...what? Protect Skylar? Stand with her against my brother?

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. I want her. Not just physically, but in a way I haven't wanted anyone since...well, since before my world fell apart. Maybe even before that. And watching her go toe-to-toe with Austin only intensifies that desire.

As I struggle with this revelation, movement catches my eye. Theo leans against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on Skylar. The look on his face is one I've never seen before—pure, unguarded admiration. His eyes are wide, almost dreamy, as if he's watching some kind of miracle unfold.

I mean, if he were a cartoon, there would be literal hearts in his eyes.

"You're incredible," Theo murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.

Skylar turns, her fiery gaze softening slightly as it lands on Theo. A small smile plays at the corners of her mouth, and I feel a fresh wave of jealousy wash over me.

"Thanks, Theo," she says, her voice losing some of its edge. "At least someone appreciates my efforts."

I run a hand through my hair, trying to sort through the tumult of emotions coursing through me. "Look," I interject, desperate to regain some control, "maybe we should all take a moment to cool down."

But as soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize I'm not ready to let this moment end. I want to keep Skylar here, in our orbit, for as long as possible. The realization is both thrilling and terrifying.

"Cohen's right," Austin grudgingly agrees, his eyes still locked on Skylar. "We can discuss this more...rationally...later."

As they begin to disperse, I'm left with a sinking feeling in my chest. What am I doing? Between Theo's puppy-dog eyes, Austin's volatile chemistry with Skylar, and my own messy history, pursuing anything more than a professional relationship with her seems impossible.

And yet, as I watch her gather the kids and head upstairs to work on homework I assume, her movements graceful and self-assured, I can't help but wonder: what if?

I find myself drifting back to memories of college, of nights spent tangled in sheets with Austin and whoever caught our fancy that week. The image of Skylar overlays those hazy recollections, and I feel a familiar heat coiling in my gut.

"You okay there, Cohen?" Theo's voice cuts through my reverie. "You look a million miles away."

I blink, focusing on his concerned green eyes. "Yeah, just...thinking."

Austin snorts from across the room. "Dangerous pastime."

"For you, maybe," I retort, falling into our usual banter. But my mind is still churning. I clear my throat. "Remember when we used to, uh...share?"

The room goes still. Austin's eyebrows shoot up, and Theo's lips part in surprise.

"That was a lifetime ago," Austin says, his voice low and guarded. “And keep your voice down. The last thing we need is for her to hear us talking about this.”

I nod, feeling the weight of unspoken possibilities hanging in the air. "All I’m saying is...it worked for us then."

Theo leans forward, his usually relaxed posture taut with interest. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

I run a hand through my hair, heart pounding. "I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just...remembering."

Austin's eyes narrow. "Remembering, or fantasizing?"

I meet his gaze, unflinching. "Both, maybe."

The silence stretches between us, thick with tension and unspoken desires. Finally, Theo breaks it with a soft chuckle.

"Well," he says, a hint of his usual dry humor creeping back into his voice, "you know me. I've always preferred company when it comes to...intimate situations."

I remember all too well. Theo, always so guarded, only truly letting loose when he wasn't the sole focus of attention. It was his way of keeping emotional distance, I realize now.

Austin paces the room, his movements sharp and agitated. "This is insane," he mutters. "We're not in college anymore. We have responsibilities, reputations to maintain."

"And feelings," I add quietly, thinking of the way Skylar's presence seems to electrify the air around us all.

Theo nods, his expression thoughtful. "Complicated feelings."

We fall silent again, each lost in our own thoughts. The possibility I've raised hangs between us, tempting and terrifying in equal measure.

The room feels charged, the tension palpable as we all silently navigate the undercurrents of what hasn’t been said. My pulse thuds in my ears, and I can't tell if it's from the implications of our conversation or the lingering image of Skylar standing her ground, like she belonged here more than any of us.

Austin stops pacing abruptly, turning to face us with a scowl that doesn’t quite mask his discomfort. “This is ridiculous. She's here for the kids. That’s it. Anything else is irrelevant.”

His words cut through the moment like a whip, and I see the hard set of his jaw, the way his fists clench at his sides. But I know him well and it’s not anger—it’s fear. Fear of losing control. Fear of the emotions that seem to swirl around Skylar and pull us all into her orbit.

Theo crosses his arms, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with something sharper, edgier. “You’re not blind, Austin. You see the way Cohen looks at her. Hell, you know the way you look at her.”

“Enough! She’s the nanny. The temporary nanny. Period. Let’s not lose sight of that.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up a hand, silencing me. “And don’t think for a second I haven’t noticed the way Cohen looks at her. Or the fact that Theo’s clearly hiding something.”

Theo bristles, his jaw tightening. “I’m not hiding shit.”

Austin arches a brow, his expression skeptical. “Really? Because the way you’re acting screams otherwise.”

“I’m not hiding anything. She didn’t want to address it, so I respected her wishes. Doesn’t mean I’m pretending it never happened.”

“What? What happened?”

Theo takes a step forward, his green eyes blazing. “You want the truth?” His voice is low, almost a growl. “Fine. Skylar was mine. Always has been. Always will be.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Austin demands, his voice rising.

Theo exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. “She’s the reason I ended up at that damn boarding school. Our parents—” He stops, his voice cracking. “Our parents weren’t exactly friendly with each other. The moment they realized what we were to each other, they tore us apart, sent me away, and I never saw her again. Until now.”

The confession hangs in the air, thick with emotion. I glance at Austin, who looks momentarily stunned before his features harden again.

Austin pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “This is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Theo says quietly, his voice raw, “but I’m not going to ignore it either.”

I lean back, letting the tension between them play out, but I can’t help the knot forming in my stomach. Theo’s claim feels like a gauntlet thrown down, one I’m not sure I want to pick up—or avoid entirely.

Austin looks between the two of us, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. “If either of you think you’re going to drag her into some kind of tug-of-war, think again. I need her to focus solely on the kids, and I won’t have her caught in whatever this is.”

Theo glares at him but doesn’t respond, his silence speaking volumes.

I finally break the stalemate, my voice calm but firm. “Austin’s right. We can’t let this get messy. She’s part of this family for now at least—whether we like it or not.”

Theo’s jaw tightens, but he nods, the fire in his eyes dimming just slightly. Austin, satisfied for now, turns to leave, muttering something about needing a drink.

Theo waits until the sound of Austin’s retreating footsteps fades before speaking, his voice low but resolute. “She’s mine. I will take her in whatever way she’ll have me.”

His words are a gut punch, raw and unapologetic. He meets my gaze, unflinching. “But what happens between you and her? That’s between the two of you. I won’t interfere.”

The declaration is both a challenge and a concession, leaving no room for doubt about how far he’s willing to go.

The question is: how far am I willing to go?