CHAPTER SEVEN
Callahan
The door shuts.
Their heels clicking on the marble tile just beyond the door an audible reminder that yes, that did in fact just happen.
Collins—er, Sutton—the woman with the sweet pussy and incredible ass that I had to drag myself away from this morning, really was just sitting across from me.
And if my eyes didn’t believe what I was seeing, my raging hard-on beneath the cover of the conference room table was evidence enough.
Shock is an understatement to express exactly what I felt when she walked in here. Pure and utter fucking shock.
Her laugh echoes back toward us, and my balls draw up at the sound. Is that mark I left still on the curve of her shoulder where I bit her when I took her from behind? Do her hips have bruises from where my fingertips gripped tight?
It’s normal to want her again after not having her for a few hours, right? Because the sex was that good, I’d go again right now if I could.
The fact I sent her Starbucks says enough right there.
I don’t ever look back when I leave after a one-night stand. Ever. But I looked back. I ordered her damn coffee with her name on the cup because I wanted her to know I remembered.
And now look where that got me?
Fuck.
Suddenly, being forced to go to Ocean’s Edge and abandon my regularly scheduled program isn’t looking as dismal as I thought it might.
Sun, more rebound sex, and hopefully spotty cell service down in the islands, giving me an excuse not to respond to my brothers immediately, might redeem this bullshit blip of a distraction on my plans.
If my brothers are going to handcuff me, I might as well have fun in the process.
It’s only then that I realize how dead silent the conference room is. I swivel in my chair to face my brothers and find both of them with their arms crossed, just sitting there watching me.
“This is a horrible fucking idea,” Ford mutters under his breath.
“For once I agree with you, Ford,” I finally say, turning to my brothers with a grin that will surely piss them off.
Fucking perfect. If I’m forced to be here, to deal with their bullshit resentment, the least I can do is push some buttons while I’m at it.
“Sending me to paradise with a woman who looks like that? Yep. Definite fucking mistake.”
“Jesus Christ. Will you ever change?” Ledger says, shoving his chair back from the table so he can face me.
“Change? Change what? My attitude? My goals? My what? I wasn’t aware being part owner of S.I.N. meant I couldn’t appreciate a beautiful woman. Hell, I’ll simply be living up to the company name.”
“It means you act professional,” Ford says. “It means you keep your dick in your pants and your hands off Sutton.”
“Just like you did last year with what’s her name?” I say, knowing I’ve caught him dead in the water.
“It’s not the same,” he counters.
“Clearly.” I roll my eyes, already feeling the life being sucked out of me from sitting in this office.
“Should we remind you why we’re in this situation in the first place? The name Gia ring any bells?”
Fuck you.
The two words are on the tip of my tongue but I fight them off. “Yep. You’re right,” I sneer. “Then again, I forgot there were Ford and Ledger rules and then there were Callahan rules. My bad.” I hold my hands up and meet both of my brothers’ stares dead on.
“Exactly.” Ledger practically spits the word out, the animosity in the room palpable. “There’s always been two sets of rules in this family.” The muscle in his jaw tics as he glares at me.
“So that’s what this is about?” I ask with a disbelieving snort. “Fuck me over because of something I couldn’t control?”
“Speaking of fucking . . . you used the suite last night.” Ledger doesn’t ask. It’s simply a statement to catch me off guard.
And it sure as shit does.
I think of our corporate suite. The one that we all use from time to time when clients aren’t staying there. The one I used last night.
I stare at my brother, my blank expression intentional as I try to catch my bearings in this game we’re playing that I’m still trying to figure out the rules to. “Keeping tabs on me too? So glad to be back under someone’s thumb again.”
“Nope.” He shrugs. “No need to keep tabs when you do exactly what’s expected of you without fail.”
And there’s the dig.
“And your point is what, Ledger? That I met up with someone? Do you need to see her name and credentials to make sure she’s good enough for the Sharpe name?”
Fucking hell.
“You’ve never had any discretion in the past so why start now, right?” Ford chimes in.
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Ford.” I fire a warning shot across the bow.
“Let’s hope whoever you fucked last night was enough to satisfy you so you keep your hands off Sutton,” he says, stare unwavering, warning ignored.
“What are you, my keeper now?”
“No,” Ledger says. “Technically, we’re your bosses.”
My fist clenches and teeth grit. Power—or the perceived notion of power—sure has made my brothers absolute assholes.
No wonder I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.
“Get off it, Ledger. Last I checked, we’re all equal partners, so no, you’re not my boss. Furthermore, I’m a grown man who can make his own decisions about who he sleeps with.”
“And we’re a multi-billion-dollar corporation that doesn’t exactly want to get screwed by those decisions.” His smile is smarmy and patronizing, and I’d give anything to wipe it from his lips. “Oh wait. My bad,” he mocks. “We already have.”
“What I did or didn’t do last night is none of your goddamn business—”
“Sweet, angelic Callahan still thinks he can do no wrong,” Ford says.
“More like the fuck-up who thinks he can do no wrong,” Ledger says.
I stare at my brothers and hate the tightness in my chest. The gloves are off.
How can you love two people and hate them just as much?
How did we get here? How did so much change in six months? How did . . . “Fuck off, Ledger. The constant do-gooder, wanna-be-daddy thing you’ve got going gets old.”
“And the pretty party boy routine does too,” he deadpans. “Normalizing the morning hangover and trying to remember the name of the woman you’re rolling out of bed beside has to be tiresome.”
My smile is slow and menacing when I look at him and speak. “It’s a hell of a lot better than learning how to adjust the stick up my ass so I can walk, although it seems you’ve mastered that just fine.”
“Of course. Responsibility and dedication are what you’d consider a stick up my ass.” He matches my smile and just stares at me with a cool, even temper.
One much like my father had.
And the sight of it hurts.
I knew this would happen. This fight. This confrontation. The manifestation of a jealousy I never created nor could control.
But here we are, gloving up for a fight that has been brewing for months.
Anticipation of it is what led me to the club last night and the Johnnie Walkers at the bar.
Now there is nowhere to run. No woman to get lost in. No alcohol to numb its ugliness.
They want a fight? I’ll give it to them.
I shrug nonchalantly. “We all grieve in different ways.”
“Is that what you call this?” Ledger snorts, and all I can do short of walking out of here is grit my teeth.
I shake my head and try to fight the anger mixed with pain raging through me.
“Because I call it doing exactly what you’ve always done—fucking off.
The difference? Dad’s no longer here to protect you from the consequences. ”
“Is that why I was told I had to be here, or else? So you can put me in my place and assert some kind of power over me?” I lift a middle finger at them.
“You were told to be here because it’s time for you to do your goddamn job.”
“According to you, my job is fucking random women and sullying the Sharpe name. Is that what we’re aiming for here? Because if that’s the case, I’m all in.”
“Typical.” He shakes his head, and I swear to God it’s déjà vu.
He could be our father standing there with the high demands and lack of empathy for others.
But there will be no phone call later telling me he understands and still loves me.
Like Dad did. There will simply be more of the empty silence edged in resentment. God, I miss him.
“When did you start becoming our father?”
“When he died and you never stepped up to the plate to fulfill your duties.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I say, hands out to my sides, the disappointment I was trying to drink away last night is now staring me down through my brothers’ eyes.
“Ah. Yes,” Ledger says. “It’s amazing how you’ll drag your ass in here when threatened with a no-confidence vote from the board.”
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
I shove up out of my chair and force myself to walk to the windows instead of throw the punch I so desperately want to throw. A rage I never had before our dad died eats at me in a way I can’t explain.
They want to vote me out?
My brothers, my blood, want me gone?
Hurt suffocates me, but I shove it behind a mask of zero fucks. Isn’t that what I’ve always done? Move, dodge, weave, when shit gets too real?
Especially with my dad. Even with my brothers.
“Actually, I didn’t hear you.” My fists clench and my mind buzzes. “You want the board to vote me out?”
“You made your bed, brother. It’s up to you if you want to lie in it or prove you deserve the position.”
“So that’s what this is all about, then?” I give a disbelieving shake of my head. “All that power is going to your head, Ledger.”
“Maybe if you were around more, you’d know what the actual fuck was going on,” Ledger states.
“Hey, Ledge?” I lean forward, lower my voice, and taunt him. “Sounds to me like you’re the one who needs to use the suite. To get fucked. Maybe if you blow off some steam, dominate in the bedroom a little, it’ll ease your need to—”
“This isn’t a joke,” he bellows, slamming his hand on the table.
“And neither is you threatening to kick me out of a company my goddamn name is on.”