OverTime

Mid-September…

“‘The latest Cobra off-ice controversy. An insider’s look—for once boardrooms rather than bedrooms.’” Ford Delgado sucked his teeth, shutting off his phone and stuffing it into his pocket as he slouched back in the passenger seat of his older sister’s SUV. Another article about a disaster with the Dartmouth Cobras to stress over?

How about no.

He sighed as his younger sister, Silver, found a spot to park in the underground lot of the condominium, trying to figure out where her head was at. “You know better than to read this shit.”

Flicking her long, pale blonde hair over her shoulder, Silver effortlessly slid the big SUV into the small tight space. As she cut the engine, she glanced in the back seat at their older sister, Oriana, who unstrapped her son from his car seat. Biting her bottom lip, Silver looked like she wanted to voice her objections. Again.

Instead, she turned to Ford, her green eyes cold. “If the big words are too hard for you, I can have Amia explain it with some crayons.”

“Right after she teaches you some manners?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my manners, you condescending—”

“If you two don’t mind, I’m going up to see our father. And introduce him to his grandson.” Oriana walked past the passenger’s side, her high, light brown ponytail swinging, baby strapped in the carrier against her chest, and massive diaper bag slung over her shoulder. She gave them a long-suffering look before starting toward the elevator. “And if you kill one another before I get back, please don’t leave a mess.”

Cursing under his breath, Ford bolted from the SUV, sprinting across the quiet parking lot to take the diaper bag.

Silver got there at the exact same time.

They both held the strap as Oriana turned to glare at them in a way that always made Ford feel like a chastised toddler. Maybe he deserved it this time, but Silver was infuriating. Intentionally so.

Besides, fighting with her was much more entertaining than what they’d be dealing with in a few minutes. He gave the strap another tug the second Oriana started to turn. Their nephew, James Weston Callahan Perron—more commonly known as Westy—gazed up at them from his snug spot on his mother’s chest, casually blowing bubbles as Silver fumed. The baby cuteness seemed to calm her down. She smiled at her nephew, then rolled her eyes at Ford, mouthing ‘Jerk.’

“I’m sorry.” Silver shoved the bag at Ford, then folded her arms over her breasts. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t think Westy should be here either. Why are you doing this to yourself, Oriana?”

Lifting her hand to let Westy hold her finger, Oriana shook her head, then held her free arm out to pull Silver in for a hug. “No matter what he’s done, he’s our father. And who knows how much longer he’ll be around? He’s been calling for weeks. He’s even been to therapy. He’s serious about changing for the better. And he wants to see us.”

“I don’t trust him.” Silver stroked Westy’s cheek with a finger, then pressed her eyes shut. “That’s why I didn’t bring Amia.”

“There’s always next time. Maybe he’ll change your mind.” Oriana continued toward the elevator, stopping Ford before he could step on behind Silver. “And for God’s sakes, Ford. Be nice to Silver.”

Clearing the doors a second before they closed, Ford stared at his older sister. “Me? How is this my fault?”

“Would it have hurt to read the article?”

“Another article speculating stupid trades that will never happen?” Ford jaw hardened as Silver muttered under her breath. Something about him being a child. An improvement from her usual insults, at least. “Yeah, sorry, not wasting my time.”

Oriana shook her head, inhaling very, very slowly as the elevator rose, the glass walls showing the perfect view of the Halifax Harbor, glowing in the early morning light. Her eyes were distant, not seeing any of it. “This article’s about a move that could happen. I’m sure Dad will bring up the possible relocation, so we have to be prepared.”

“I don’t think he cares much about individual players.” Ford frowned as Oriana and Silver exchanged a look. “What am I missing?”

“Not players, Ford.” Oriana swallowed hard. “The team.”

His heart surged up to his throat as he pulled out his phone, but they’d already reached the penthouse. He couldn’t read the article now. He should have when Silver had sent it last night. Or before Oriana had picked him up this morning. Or even on the way here, when Silver had reminded him.

But he’d refused to believe a reporter could discover anything he didn’t already know. He was just as invested in the team as his sisters. More involved lately since they both had kids who took up a lot of their time. A step he was nowhere near ready to take, so he did his part to make sure they were free to spend time with their growing families. Between Silver and Oriana, their family only controlled about a third of the shares after he’d sold his majority to the current owner, Lorenzo Keane, but they all sat on the board and both he and Silver held management positions.

If there was any risk of the team being moved, wouldn’t he have heard about it already? Silver might have read something and overreacted, but Oriana wouldn’t. The information had been serious enough to worry her.

What had he missed?

You’d know if you’d read the fucking article, dumb ass.

Grinding his teeth, Ford stashed his phone in the pocket of his suit jacket, jerking the smooth black material straight before following his sisters into the penthouse condo.

Anthony Delgado had once owned a mansion, along with many other properties, but between poor management of the team and his own finances, their father had been forced to sell almost everything. He’d been close to claiming bankruptcy at one point, but his new wife, who’d once been his secretary, had managed to bring him back from ruin and helped rebuild to modest wealth with some shrewd investments. Ford didn’t know much about the woman—his stepmother? Shit, that was weird to think when ‘Dad’ had only been in his life for a few years—but Silver absolutely hated the woman.

Which didn’t say much, Silver hated a lot of people. Including him, once.

Now she loved him like only a little sister could. In the most irritating way possible. Not that he was completely innocent, but he wouldn’t just put up with her taking jabs at him whenever she was in a mood. Which she had been since Oriana had come to get them.

He wasn’t loving this little family trip himself.

At least they were too old for hair pulling and pinching—which they’ve probably done if they’d grown up together, rather than him being raised by the man he’d once thought was his father, Roy Kingsley.

A shame, because that would have been fun. Growing up together. Not pinching her. Getting under her skin by not taking her shit like almost everyone else did was satisfying enough.

Except when it led to him walking blind into a situation like this one. He didn’t want to see his father any more than Silver did. They were here because the man had somehow convinced Oriana to give him another chance to be involved in her life. Even after he’d hurt her again and again. Even though the man was a toxic asshole who treated his kids like amenities. Even though they’d all gotten to a better place as a family without Anthony Delgado’s manipulation.

Ford had one father almost destroy his life.

He refused to give that power to another.

But Oriana needs me.

The elevator opened to a long entryway with marble walls and floor to ceiling windows that gave a breathtaking view of the Atlantic. He took a moment to look out, letting the expanse of the ocean calm him as Silver stepped up to his side. Oriana stopped halfway to the door, shooting him a bracing smile.

Silver squeezed his arm. “Hey, it’s gonna be all right. No one fucks with us when we’re together. Not even him.”

Letting out a rough laugh, Ford slid his arm around her slender shoulders. “Does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“Well…” Silver’s eyes sparkled, her lips slanting in a playful smile. “I was probably expecting a bit much. Never asked if you actually can read.”

“Bite me!”

“Don’t.” Oriana’s tone was firm, but she seemed to struggle not to laugh as Silver snapped her teeth at Ford. She faced the door as the lock clicked, head held high, shoulders stiff as it opened. “Hello, Father.”

Ford stepped up behind her with Silver, rubbing Silver’s arm as she tensed. Anthony Delgado looked about ten years younger than the last time Ford had seen him. A massive heart attack had changed him from a dangerously powerful man into an unstable cruel one. Ford had once tried to use that instability to his advantage to please Kingsley. Things had changed a lot since then. Ford had changed.

Oriana had welcomed him into the family, forgiving him for all the fucked-up shit he’d done. That she’d consider forgiving their father wasn’t that surprising.

Maybe Ford should give the man a chance.

Thick white hair neatly styled, dressed in a charcoal suit, broad shoulders squared, the only indication that Anthony had ever been incapacitated was the cane he barely seemed to lean on anymore. He gave Oriana a hesitant smile as she approached him.

She smiled back, cupping the back of her son’s head as Anthony drew her in for a gentle hug. “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you. And I’m pleased you agreed to come see me.” Anthony looked over at Silver and Ford. “All of you. Please, come in.”

Trailing Silver, Ford pulled the door closed behind him, hardly breathing as he listened to his father asking Oriana about the baby, showing actual interest. Once Anthony was seated in a white leather, wingback chair in the sitting room, he let Oriana place Westy in his arm, speaking softly to the baby as Oriana stood by his side, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“He’s beautiful, Oriana.” Anthony stroked his grandson’s cheek with a finger. His brow furrowed slightly. “Are you certain his birthmother won’t… She won’t try to take him back, will she?”

“No. She wasn’t ready to raise a child, she’s trying to build a life for herself and wanted him to have a family who could give him the love and support she never had.” Oriana reached down, smoothing her hand over her son’s dirty blond tuft of hair. “And we will.”

Anthony inclined his head. “I know you will. You’ve always been a strong woman, Oriana. I’m sorry I didn’t see that before. I’m sorry for…for so very much.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Silver and Ford as though he’d forgotten they were there. “Please, come sit with me for a bit. Your stepmother is bringing refreshments for us to enjoy.”

“Great, but don’t expect us to call her ‘mom’.” Silver hissed under her breath as she joined Ford on the leather sofa set across from the massive marble fireplace.

Behind them was another floor to ceiling window with a picturesque view of the ocean, bringing in so much natural light no lamps were needed, but there were two tall glass cylinder lamps at either side of the sofa. In front of them was a large, square, sleek black coffee table on a fluffy grey area rug. The massive room was sparsely furnished, but the way it was set up in front of the fireplace made it kinda cozy.

Anyone looking at them now would think they were a normal family.

If they could ignore the underlying tension.

Ford reached out and took Silver’s hand, shooting her a slanted smile before turning back to their father. “How is Anne?”

Smiling broadly, Anthony settled Westy in the crook of his arm. “Very well. She’s been managing all my affairs. If not for her I wouldn’t have regained my health. Or been able to afford all this.”

“Do you really need such a big place?”

“Ford!” Oriana frowned at him, then looked back at their father. “This is a beautiful home. I think what my sweet brother meant to say is it’s a little big for just you and Anne, isn’t it? I hope you have help taking care of it?”

“I do.” Anthony’s lips quirked. “And it was a good investment. These new condos are in high demand. I know none of you will be interested in living somewhere like this, what with you all having children and big families, but you’ll make a killing on the market selling it when I die.”

“Anthony, your children haven’t seen you in a long time. They don’t need to hear you speaking that way.” Anne clucked her tongue as she padded softly into the room, holding a silver tray with a tea setting and a plate full of tiny sandwiches. She placed the tray on the coffee table. “Don’t mind him. We were discussing how you might rebuild the family fortune in the housing market once you inherit the purchases your father and I have been making over the last year.” Anne smiled at Oriana. “He says you’ve got the best business sense of all his children. And I agree.”

Oriana’s lips parted. She shook her head. “I’m training to be a sports doctor. And…” She swallowed, still standing beside their father, looking down at him holding her son as though she’d never seen the man before. “I thought you were leaving everything to Ford?”

Not that Ford wanted anything from the man, but he was a little shocked as well. Anthony had practically disowned Oriana, claiming she wasn’t his daughter at all. He’d acted like Ford, who he barely knew, was the only child who mattered.

Hadn’t worked out for the man when Ford had sold the team out from under him, but even that hadn’t seemed to deter him.

Anthony inclined his head. “I’d planned to, and he will still inherit some of what I have if I manage to accumulate anything worth leaving him, but…” The old man sighed, leaning back in the chair, holding his grandson closer. “Oriana, I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I can’t erase what I’ve done, but—as I told you on the phone—I’m hoping I can right some of them before I’m gone. It pleases me you three are so close. I don’t want to miss out on your lives. On meeting my grandchildren. The Delgado legacy will continue with you.” He looked from Oriana to Ford. Then finally, to Silver. “All of you. And I want that to be something you’re proud of. Because I’m prouder of you than I can say.”

Silver’s bottom lip quivered. She sat up a little straighter as a tear spilled down her cheek. Wiping it away impatiently, she stared at their father. “That sounds good, but I hope you know it’s going to take more than some nice words to get us to trust you again.”

With a heavy sigh, Anthony lifted Westy, placing the baby back in Oriana’s arms. He didn’t speak again until she’d taken a seat at Silver’s other side. “I respect that. And believe me, I know we have a long way to go. But you’re here. That’s a start.”

Anne patted her husband’s shoulder. “Yes, it is.” She moved to the table, setting out the teacups. “Why don’t we all have some tea and catch up? Unless you’d like coffee? I can go make some, it won’t take a minute.”

“Tea’s fine.” Oriana gave Anne a hesitant smile. “It’s clear you’ve taken very good care of our father. Thank you.”

“Yes, well…I know you probably didn’t think much of us getting married. I’m only ten years older than you.” Anne poured the tea, a wistful smile on her lips. She handed Oriana the cup after preparing it exactly the way his sister liked it. “But I worked for him for a long time and we’ve been through a lot together. It was nice to have a chance to prove I could be there for him like he’s been there for me.”

“You stuck around even after he lost almost everything.” Oriana’s smile was warm now, showing she held nothing against the woman. “That tells me a lot about you.”

“I appreciate that.”

Thanking Anne as she handed him a cup of tea—black, like he usually took it at the office, even though she hadn’t been there in a long time—Ford tried to keep his expression neutral. This whole thing was surreal. He could tell Oriana desperately wanted to believe in their father. She’d spent her whole childhood, and much of her adulthood, trying to be the perfect daughter. Sure, she was stronger now, had a family of her own, a career she loved, but he could practically see that little girl she’d once been, looking for her father’s approval.

Maybe this was real. Maybe Anthony had gotten a reality check when he hadn’t been invited to Silver’s wedding. Seen that he’d end up dying alone, forgotten by the children he’d pushed away again and again. Fuck, it would be awesome to see him be the man, the father, Oriana and Silver deserved.

But did anyone really change that much?

By his side, Silver stared at their father, hugging herself tight, not touching her tea. She hadn’t said much, but that wouldn’t last. Oriana talking and laughing with their father had her on edge. Her expression darkened as Oriana began telling Anthony a funny story about her husband, Max Perron, bringing Westy to meet a few players during a charity event.

“Sorry, but I can’t do this. I don’t know what you’re playing at, Dad, but I’m not here for it.” Silver stood, shaking her head when Ford moved toward her, and strode off down the hall.

Damn it! Ford didn’t blame Silver for leaving, but he couldn’t just abandon Oriana. He stood beside her, raking his fingers through his hair, torn. Hopefully Silver had just gone down to wait in the car. They could talk to her when they got there.

Which would be soon. Oriana being happy with all this was good, but he didn’t want her getting her hopes up. They all needed time to see if Anthony was legit interested in being the father they needed.

That my sisters need. He was never mine. Ford’s throat tightened. He’d been useful once, but not anymore. If not for Oriana, he wouldn’t be here at all.

He looked over at Anthony. “I’m not sure what you expected, but you’ve got a lot to prove. And she owes you nothing.”

“I know that.” Anthony took a deep breath. “You should go to her, Oriana. I’m not giving up, but I don’t want to make this more difficult on any of you.” He lowered his gaze. “If you’ll give me a moment of your time, Ford, I’d like to speak to you alone.”

Fuck no. Ford’s lips parted, but Oriana rose beside him, giving him a look that nearly broke his heart. She needed this chance. Needed the father she believed Anthony could be in her life. The way she held Westy close made it even more obvious why she’d picked up the phone when the man had called her. That little boy would never lack for love. He had Sloan and Max’s fathers to fill the grandparents’ role and a whole team’s worth of adopted uncles ready to dote on him. But Oriana wanted her son to have Anthony as well.

If there was any chance that little boy could have his grandfather in his life, Ford would help make sure that happened.

He sighed and nodded. “Go on. I won’t be long.”

Oriana pressed a light kiss on his cheek, then went to her father, hugging him and holding Westy up so his grandfather could cuddle him one last time.

Anthony’s eyes lit up. “Wait, before you rush off, I have something for him.” He reached for his cane. “I’ll be just a—”

“Let me get it.” Anne hurried off, returning seconds later with a big, shiny blue gift bag filled with pale blue tissue and curly blue ribbons. Her cheeks were red as she returned, handing Oriana the bag. “You can open it later if you’d like. I’d planned this to go much nicer, but…” She shook her head, looking sad. “We knew it might take time to repair Anthony’s relationship with all of you.”

“Thank you.” Oriana bit her bottom lip as Westy started to fuss. “I feel rude leaving without—”

“Don’t, my sweet girl.” Anthony gave her another hug. “I just hope you’ll come visit with him again soon.”

“I will.”

“Good. Then go make sure your sister is all right. And please call me when you have a chance.” Anthony walked Oriana to the door, waving off her objections. “I’m much better. Don’t worry about me.”

With both his sisters gone, Ford felt out of place. His only interactions with Anthony had been either on the direction of Roy Kingsley, the man who’d raised Ford as a son until the truth had been revealed, or standing by Oriana and Silver once he’d finally understood what loyalty really meant. Not giving his all to someone who considered him disposable, but caring for those who loved him, who never asked for more than they gave. People who didn’t hurt him when he didn’t serve their purpose any longer.

Cleaning off the table, Anne shot him a sympathetic smile. “Family can be very complicated.”

“Just a bit.” Ford shoved his hands in the pockets of his black slacks, smiling back at her. The woman seemed nice enough. Sticking with Anthony through some of the shit he’d pulled might have been questionable, but maybe her faith in him hadn’t been completely misplaced.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

Ford would reserve judgment. On them both.

“Now then.” Anthony returned to the sitting room, his expression warm. “I think we have much to discuss, son.”

Ford’s jaw ticked at ‘son’, but he simply inclined his head. “Should I have Silver and Oriana go on without me? I don’t want my nephew sitting in the car too long.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Anthony settled in his chair as Ford sent Oriana a quick text, assuring her he’d get Cort or Akira to pick him up when he was done here.

Once he’d put away his phone, Ford looked up to see Anthony watching him, a curious expression on his face.

“Maybe I shouldn’t ask this, but I’ve always wondered why you stayed on with the team after selling your shares.” Anthony curved both hands over the top of his cane. “The team served one purpose for the Kingsleys. I understand you wanting a legitimate career, but why involve yourself in a sport you had no interest in?”

Returning to his seat on the couch, Ford shrugged. “I wanted to be there for my sisters.”

“So you appreciate the value of a family business.”

“It’s not ours anymore, Anthony. The team belongs to Keane.”

“Not for long.” Anthony leaned forward. “The team has always been important to me. Perhaps too much so, but I don’t think any of us want to lose it. Keane has been exploring his options. Rumors have caught the attention of the media, but they’re only speculating. I’ve heard from old associates that he’s received offers that would potentially move the team to San Antonio. Or Seattle.”

That was what Silver had wanted him to know. Damn it, why hadn’t he just read the fucking article? He inhaled roughly as he imagined the team being moved. His family would be ripped apart. All his friends, the life he’d built here, would be gone. Cort, the man he loved, had his auto repair shop in Dartmouth, but their woman, Akira, was an Ice Girl for the team. Would the Ice Girls be moved as well? Disbanded?

He shook his head. “We don’t have the money to make a counteroffer. If Keane decides to sell, there’s nothing we can do to stop him.”

“Really?” Anthony’s brow rose. “Come, my boy. I’m sure, if you put your mind to it, you could come up with some way to at least delay any action by Keane.”

Bowing his head, Ford nodded slowly. “Is that why you wanted me here? Why you put on that whole act? Oriana and Silver love the team, but they’d only go so far to save it. Me? I’m a thug. I’ll do anything, right?”

Anthony’s lips thinned. “Come with me.”

Jaw clenched, Ford followed Anthony to a short hall which opened into a huge, modern kitchen with a long island that cut it off from the living room. To the left was a blocky staircase, leading up to the second floor. The old man started up the stairs, glancing back once to make sure Ford was still there.

“Having children changes a man, son.” Anthony’s lips curved slightly when Ford scowled. “Yes, I know you hate me calling you that, but you are my son. I may not have raised you, but I’ll be damned if I leave you with nothing but a bitter memory. I hope you will feel the same.”

Grinding his teeth, Ford considered a few dozen ways to tell the man to go fuck himself. They reached a spacious landing at the top of the stairs and he blinked as he looked over the three people lounging around the open den.

A man, a woman, on the sofa and loveseat, and a boy of about ten sitting on a beanie chain in the corner with headphones on.

The man stood immediately and came toward him, holding out his arms. “Ford, it’s been too damn long. You look good, man.”

Wetting his lips, Ford focused on the man in front of him. Kyle Macrae. Who Ford hadn’t seen since he was a sixteen-year-old punk in Detroit, stealing cars and giving Cort a reason to want to kick his ass almost every day. Kyle was a few years older than him, which would make him about thirty now.

He looked it, but not in a bad way. Maturity had turned the tall, skinny kid with crooked teeth and huge glasses into a wiry man with a sexy, nerdy appeal. His light brown hair was rumpled in a just-been-fucked way, brushing the top of his stylish glasses. The smile he flashed was fucking perfect. And he’d traded in his comic tees for a blazer that had Ford thinking of a really hot teacher he’d seen somewhere.

Maybe in a porn. Fuck, why had he started watching gay porn? That wouldn’t change years of being exclusively with women and never realizing he could fall for a guy. Had fallen for a guy. Cort, who was still trying to figure out his own shit and wouldn’t have seen that particular porn because he thought all the moaning was fake as fuck and preferred magazines.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Damn, you…grew up.”

“As did you.” Kyle arched a brow, lips slanting in amusement as he put his hand on Ford’s shoulder. He motioned to the woman who was stretched out across the plush, black leather sofa. “Do you remember my sister, Andrea?”

“Hey.” Andrea waved at him, not looking up from the book she was reading.

“Hey.” Ford took a deep breath, moving away from Kyle, not liking how familiar he was being, hot or not. “You were in college when me and Kyle hung out, but I think I remember you from a party at your sister’s place—”

“Yeah, when I walked in on you fucking my sister in the pool house.” Andrea’s tone was dry. “Good times.”

Kyle scowled at her, glancing over at the boy. “Jesus, sis. Not in front of the kid.”

“Oh fuck off, he swears more than I do.”

“That’s not the point.”

Ford grinned. They sounded a lot like him and Silver. Maybe not growing up together didn’t matter so much after all. He hooked his thumbs to his belt, the tension easing out of him now that Kyle wasn’t standing so close.

“Is Trista here too? It’s been…” He cleared his throat again. Looked at the boy again. “Been a while.”

“Ten years.” Kyle turned, blinking fast, his smile strained. “And Trista’s dead. She was in a bad car accident…after a party. She shouldn’t have been driving, but…unfortunately, it was something she did a lot.”

“Shit.” Ford dropped his gaze, not sure what to say. He’d liked Trista, but they hadn’t been together long. She’d hung out at Cort’s stepfather’s club a lot, fooling around with the bikers until Ford caught her eye. Cort thought she was too old for him and seduced her away.

He’d actually dated her for longer. Around the same time.

Maybe he should be here.

Ford really really wished Cort was here.

“Ford…” Kyle pushed his glasses up, lowing his voice even though the kid couldn’t hear him with the headphones on. “Trista wasn’t doing good before…before the accident. She was always drinking and partying, going from one man to the next. Me and Andrea did what we could, but Child Services got involved. He got taken away a few times. After she died, we didn’t know what to do with him, but we didn’t want him living with strangers again. We finally got his birth certificate and…she’d never told us. I swear I would have told you if I knew.”

Taking a step back, Ford stared at Kyle. “There’s no fucking way.”

“Really? Because you were so damn careful?” Kyle’s eyes hardened. He looked past Ford to Anthony, who’d remained silent the whole time. “He hasn’t changed. This trip was a waste of time.”

“It wasn’t. Give him a chance to absorb what you’re saying.” Anthony put a heavy hand on Ford’s shoulder, tightening his grip when Ford tried to jerk away. “Go look at him and tell me you don’t see it.”

For a man who’d had a heart attack, the elder Delgado was pretty strong. He didn’t release Ford until he started moving forward on his own.

As his shadow fell over the kid, the boy looked up. Golden eyes hard, he jerked off his headphones.

“What the fuck do you want?”

Holy shit.

Ford’s lips parted. Closed. He swallowed hard. “Ah…just wanted to meet you, kid. I knew your mom.”

“Awesome. At least one of us did.” The boy slumped on the beanbag. “You figure out where you’re dumping me off yet, Uncle Kyle? I’m fucking bored.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

As much as he wanted to, Ford couldn’t deny it. That dark brown hair, those eyes. That smart ass mouth. Hell, if the kid had been in a video Ford would have done a double take, thinking he was looking at himself as a child.

Anthony moved to Ford’s side, his tone hard. “You’re not going anywhere, Jaxon.”

“Yeah?” The kid, Jaxon, eyed Anthony warily. “You want me to stay here?”

“You will stay here.” Anthony’s lips curved slightly. “Until it’s time to go live with your father.”

Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. He looked Ford over. “This him?”

I should say something. Ford cleared his throat again. “Your mother and I were together a long time ago—”

“Got that. Ten years ago. I’m not stupid.” Jaxon rolled his eyes. “So you’re my mom’s sperm donor. Cool. Any reason I can’t go with you now?”

“You can—”

“No, he can’t,” Kyle spoke up, his voice cutting through the room as he went to stand over Jaxon, who rolled his eyes again and put his headphones back on. “I’m sorry, Ford, but he doesn’t know you. I don’t know you. Not anymore.”

“But you know Anthony?” Ford wasn’t sure what he was going to do with a kid, but he sure as hell wasn’t leaving his…his…leaving Jaxon with the same man who’d almost destroyed both his daughters’ lives.

Kyle glared at him. “Anthony flew all three of us down here after talking to us for weeks. He’s given us a place to stay. Given Jaxon everything he could need.”

Weeks…Anthony had known about this for weeks? Ford rubbed his hand over his lips and laughed. “Jesus, Dad. Convenient timing, telling me about the kid now?”

“Perhaps.” Anthony shrugged, not even bothering to deny it. “I want my team back. You want your sisters to be happy. And a chance to get to know your son.” The emphasis he put on the last word made Ford wince. Anthony gave Ford a cold smile, then continued. “If family pride isn’t enough to motivate you, maybe this will be.”

“Why the fuck would I agree to any of this? So you’ll fake being Oriana and Silver’s father? No thanks. Better them find out how you really feel now than when they get close to you again.” Ford fisted his hands at his sides. “And he’s…he’s my son. You can’t keep him from me.”

Anthony’s brow rose. “Really? And you think paternity will matter when I take you to court for custody? You’re in a relationship with a man who’s done jail time. Some would say your ‘unconventional’ lifestyle isn’t exactly stable.”

A chill went down Ford’s spine. He didn’t doubt Anthony would drag him into an ugly court battle. He’d threatened to do it to Oriana, but he hadn’t been strong then. A judge would have taken one look at the case and laughed.

But between Cort’s criminal record and Ford’s relationship, a judge who was big on ‘traditional families’ might side with Anthony.

Ford shook his head, his throat tight. “You’d do that to your own grandson? Use him as a fucking pawn?”

“I’m not using him, I’m securing his future. You’re the one making this difficult, Ford.” Anthony folded his arms over his chest. “I’d like to have my daughters back in my life. To get to know my grandchildren. That isn’t fake, simply amplified in a way that will make things easier for them both.”

“How is that not fake?”

“Oriana was happy today, being here with me. Will you take that away from her?” Anthony sighed when Ford simply stared at him. “Don’t make your decision now, but consider it carefully. I am willing to pretend I’m not disappointed that all three of my children have flaunted their eccentric lifestyles. That they’ve trampled all over the family name while carelessly tearing apart everything I spent my life building. I will be a kind, loving father. A doting grandfather.”

“In exchange for delaying Keane from selling the team? What exactly will that accomplish? You gonna raise a few billion dollars in the next few months?”

“I don’t need to. I simply need a few investors who see the benefit in me controlling the team once again.” Anthony’s jaw hardened. “You’re a smart boy. Why do you think Kingsley began to work with me in the first place?”

Ford’s lips twisted. He needed to get out of here. Talking to this man made him sick. “Because you had your own ‘eccentric lifestyle’?”

“Don’t be obtuse.” Anthony motioned for Ford to join him as he headed back downstairs. “If you find manipulating Keane so objectionable, perhaps you could approach your uncles and—”

“No.” Ford shook his head quickly, his heart slamming into his ribcage. “Fuck no.”

“Very well.” Anthony inclined his head. “I expect you to let me know your decision within the next few days. And you are, of course, welcome to come visit your son whenever you like.”

Damn it, Ford hadn’t even said goodbye to the kid. Not that he thought Jaxon would really care—and he didn’t blame him. Ford was a stranger and he couldn’t just appear in the little boy’s life and expect…hell, he didn’t even know what to expect. Today, next week, a year from now.

There was suddenly a new little person he was supposed to take care of.

He wasn’t ready for a kid. When Cort had assumed Akira was pregnant because she’d been sick, Ford had fucking panicked. But she didn’t want kids yet. Cort was willing to wait a few years.

Years. As in multiple. Maybe, by the time Ford hit thirty, he’d be considered a decent enough human being to be responsible for the life of another human being. Forty might be more realistic, but he’d shave ten years off because he wouldn’t be doing it alone.

He hit the sidewalk and started walking aimlessly. Early Saturday morning on a sunny day like this had a lot of people heading downtown or out to the beaches and the traffic was getting bad. No point in having Cort come pick him up and get stuck in it. Better to meet him at the bar, which was close enough to the warehouse district to avoid the crowds. And heading in early would give him a chance to check out his stock. Or have a drink.

Or ten.

After sending Cort a quick text, he shoved his hands in his pockets. He’d ended up walking in the wrong direction and had to backtrack. His phone started buzzing when he was within blocks of the bar and he pulled it out, grinning when he saw it was Cort.

Who didn’t bother with hello. “Where are you?”

“Almost there.”

“What the fuck, kid? I’ve been waiting for over an hour. What’s going on?”

Standing outside the bar, Cort spotted him coming down the block, hung up, and folded his arms over his chest.

Fuck, the man looked scary, standing there in a snug black shirt and worn jeans, his close-shaved head giving him a military-esque appeal. With his thick arms crossing his massive chest, his wide shoulders taking up most of the doorway, no one would question why he moonlighted as a bouncer. His presence alone guaranteed the bar’s patrons would behave themselves. A glance and even rowdy hockey players, piss drunk, and high on adrenalin, settled down. But his expression shook Ford to the core.

He’d gotten that look from Cort most of his adolescence. Quite a few times as an adult. But it hadn’t had this effect on him until they’d begun their relationship with Akira. Until being close to her meant seeing Cort in a whole new light. Powerful and alluring, the way he moved making it hard for Ford not to stare, even when he’d thought his whole focus should be on Akira.

She managed to split her focus without a shred of guilt. He’d gotten pretty good at following her example.

But he rarely had Cort’s full attention like this. Not that Cort was trying to be all seductive. He’d been worried. Ready to kick some ass. In this mood, he was dangerous.

Which was fucking hot.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Cort scanned the street, automatically on the lookout for trouble, latching on to the back of Ford’s neck to direct him into the empty bar. “What. Happened?”

“No one’s dead. I’m not in any trouble. I just…” Ford wasn’t sure how to tell Cort. Wasn’t ready to. The whole situation didn’t fit in his own brain yet. He lowered his gaze as Cort expression darkened. “Seeing Delgado messed with my head. That’s all.”

“Is that so.” Cort shook his head, then walked past Ford. Stepping behind the bar he grabbed the bottle of Canadian Club, pouring a couple fingers worth in two tumblers. He brought them to the bar, sliding one to Ford. “Have a drink and reconsider that answer.”

Ford’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Cort jutted his chin at the glass, not speaking again until Ford took a slow, burning gulp. “After ten years, I know when you’re lying, Ford.”

“Fine. I don’t want to fucking talk about it, all right?”

Inclining his head, Cort tossed back his own whiskey. “Understood.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Gnashing his teeth, Ford finished his whiskey, then grabbed the bottle to pour himself another. “We might have played the whole power exchange thing, but you’re not my fucking Dom.”

“Got it.”

“Good.”

“You done?” Cort braced his muscular forearms on the bar top, his level gaze locked on Ford. “You don’t wanna be honest? Cool. We won’t fucking ‘play’ anymore. But you’re still my best friend. You feel like talking? I’m not going anywhere.”

All right, this was not at all how Ford wanted things to go down. He frowned at the other man. “What does any of this have to do with what we do at the club?”

Cort’s brow rose. “You think I’ll whip someone I can’t trust?”

“Cort—”

“And parties where other men teach you to suck dick like a pro? Naw. Who knows what that’s doing to your head?” Cort shrugged and pushed away from the bar. “I’m gonna grab the books, then I’ll drive you home.”

Staring after Cort, Ford scrambled for a way to say all the things the man needed to hear. They’d never kept anything from one another. Except when…when Cort had tried to protect him and a damn good man had ended up getting killed. Ford’s throat tightened as he thought of Tim Rowe, once the Dartmouth Cobras’ head coach, who’d been caught in the crossfire of Roy Kingsley’s final attempt to use the team to hide his dirty money.

Cort still blamed himself for Tim’s death, somehow believing if he’d never mentioned the man’s name to Kingsley, he wouldn’t have been a target. Never mind that as the coach, he was the most obvious.

Keeping secrets was huge to Cort because he knew where it could lead. He would shut down any scening between them, keep things light, and pretend Ford not being straightforward with him wasn’t a bigger issue. Pretend this was about the need for openness between a Dom and a sub.

And not that his and Ford’s criminal pasts made secrets deadly.

The man had gone all legit, wouldn’t even go past the fucking speed limit—hell he wouldn’t even jaywalk. He followed the law to the goddamn letter. No way was Ford dragging him into this mess with Anthony.

But he had to give him something.

He ducked into the ‘Employees Only’ area, which held the small kitchen, his office, and the storage room. Cort was in the kitchen, checking the fridge and cupboards for coffee and cream. He shook his head as he jotted down both on the list Reggie, their main bartender, had left. Dude always forgot something.

“Tell me why we haven’t fired this guy yet?” Cort grumbled as he picked up a nearly empty bag of sugar. “He ever gonna get this right?”

“Probably not.” Ford hooked his thumbs to his belt and leaned against the counter. “Listen, I… I don’t want things to change. Me and you, we’re good.”

Cort placed the sugar and the pen on the short counter by the fridge. “Yeah? Then tell me what happened at your Dad’s place.”

“Don’t fucking call him that, man. Done with ‘Dads’.” Ford’s jaw hardened. He could still see Kingsley, laying on a slab in the morgue. Ford had been relieved and…

And nothing. He refused to let that man take up any more space in his head.

“Look at me.” Cort stepped across the room and raked his fingers through Ford’s hair, meeting his eyes, his own hard. “You’re right. Anthony isn’t your dad. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I know better.” Cort sighed, loosening his grip on Ford’s hair. “You’ve been fucked over by most of the men in your life. I won’t be one of them.” He inhaled roughly. “And I won’t let the bastard hurt you. Or your sisters. Tell me what happened. Let me deal with him.”

Ford’s brow rose. “You’re a good guy now. What are you gonna do? Give him a stern talking to?”

“Don’t be a punk, Ford.” Cort’s lips quirked slightly. “I gotta make you talk or what?”

A chill ran down Ford’s spine and he licked his lips. His pulse quickened as he considered how Cort might get him to talk. Would probably be painful. Very painful.

He’d be a little afraid if he didn’t get off on the pain. When it was Cort giving it to him anyway. The man was still training at the club, but he’d picked up some pretty impressive skills. Not that they had floggers in the kitchen.

Not this kitchen, anyway.

Clearing his throat, he met Cort’s eyes. “You think you can?”

Giving him a hooded look, Cort closed the distance between them, pressing him against the counter as he ran his hand down the side of Ford’s neck. He stroked his fingers against the pressure point in the curve of Ford’s shoulder, the only warning before he drove them in hard, making Ford’s whole body jerk. The pain almost drove him to his knees, but he grabbed onto the counter. Hissed through his teeth as Cort moved his hand to the other side, holding his gaze.

“You sure you want to play, Ford?” Cort leaned in, brushing his lips against Ford’s smooth cheek to whisper in his ear. “I won’t be gentle.”

“Good.” Ford braced himself, but this time the deep, driving pain didn’t let up. “Fuck!”

He lowered his head to Cort’s shoulder, panting as Cort rubbed away the lingering ache. Blood pulsed into his balls and his dick hardened. A sweet haze stole away the chaos in his head and he wasn’t sure if he should tell Cort whatever he wanted to know so the game could change, or hold back so he’d continue exactly as he was now.

He didn’t get a chance to decide. Cort took his hand, effortlessly finding the pressure point there, and stepping back as Ford dropped to his knees.

“Fuck, I like you like this.” Cort pressed his thumb against Ford’s lips, chuckling as Ford flicked his tongue over the tip. “You’re too much of a pain slut for me to torture the truth out of you. You win. And I need to get to the store before it closes.”

Releasing Ford’s hand, Cort grabbed the list and the accounting books from the counter and headed for the door. Not glancing back once.

Cursing under his breath, Ford slammed his head back against the cupboards. He and Akira needed to have a chat. Convince Cort to stop training with Sloan. He was turning into a fucking sadist.

Ford dragged himself off the floor, pulling out his keys as he headed to the door, then locked it behind him. Getting in Cort’s newest restoration, a 1970 Buick GSX, Ford forced himself not to slam the door as he dropped into the passenger seat. His dick being squeezed uncomfortably against his zipper was putting him in a mood, but he wasn’t about to take it out on the car.

Or Cort. Much as he hated the mindfuck, he got it. Cort could have continued. Could have really hurt him, forcing him to spill everything because, as much as Ford enjoyed pain, there were limits. Limits Cort was well aware of and wouldn’t cross.

If he had to come close just to get Ford to open up to him, what was the point?

So Ford waited until they had all the supplies for the bar loaded in the trunk. Until they were on the road, headed for their house in the gated community on the edge of the city. Took a deep breath. And rubbed his hand over his mouth before finally just telling Cort what he needed to hear.

“I have a kid.”

Cort almost swerved the car into a ditch.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ford!” Cort slowed, pulling onto the shoulder. He got out of the car, walking away from it, fingers latched behind his neck.

Yeah, that had gone well. Ford relaxed into his seat, feeling a little better.

At least it was done.

Let the yelling begin.

Returning to the car, Cort lowered to his seat. Rubbed his hands over his face. Then lifted his head to glare at Ford. “If you fooled around on Akira—”

“Whoa there, pal. Go fuck yourself. You know I wouldn’t do that.” Ford sat forward, hand fisted against his thigh. “The kid’s ten.”

Lips parted, Cort stared at him. “Are you sure it’s not—”

“He. And no, he’s not yours. Could have been though.” Ford rolled his shoulders. “Wait until you see him. My fucking spitting image. Got a mouth on him. Is being a punk hereditary?”

Snorting, Cort shook his head. “No clue. But…damn. Who’s his mom? And why’d she wait so long? Did you talk to her?”

“Trista. And she’s dead.”

“Oh.” Cort cleared his throat. “She was… That’s sad.”

“You couldn’t stand her.”

“I dated her for almost two months. And she fucked my dad.” Cort shrugged, glaring at the dashboard. “Not that I cared. He was trying to do for me what I did for you. Because we’re all fucking damaged. Took me a long time to figure out why her going after you pissed me off so much. You were a kid.”

“I was sixteen. Not exactly a—”

“She was almost thirty. Don’t fucking go there, Ford. You know better.” Cort’s jaw ticked. “I thought I at least taught you enough to use protection.”

“You tried.” Ford rubbed his thighs, not wanting to dwell on when he’d been young and stupid. He had more important things to worry about. “Anyway, kid’s staying with Anthony for now. His aunt and uncle are there too, but I don’t…I don’t fucking like it.”

“I don’t blame you.” Cort’s brow furrowed. “Do your sisters know?”

Ford shook his head. “Anthony waited until they were gone to tell me. I’ll call Oriana later…she’ll be cool.”

Nodding, Cort pulled back onto the road, waiting a few minutes before glancing over. “And Silver?”

That was going to be an interesting conversation. But Ford had an idea. “I’ll pay my niece a visit. Make sure Landon and Dean are there. Break the good news over Dean’s awesome lasagna.”

Cort chuckled. “It’s cute that you’re afraid of your little sister.”

“I’m not scared of Silver.”

“Uh huh.” Cort scratched his jaw as they reached the house and pulled into the driveway. “I thought we’d be bringing a baby here one day, not a ten-year-old. There’s a good school nearby, but it’s pricey. I’ll check out the public school and we’ll go from there. You and Akira figure out what he needs and we’ll make it work. Have him all set up in a couple days. I know the whole idea freaks you out, man, but we can do this. Give the kid a good family. You’ve missed out on enough.”

“We don’t have to do anything.” Ford opened his door and swung his legs out, but didn’t stand. He braced his hands on his knees as Cort came around to his side of the car. “Akira might not want this.”

A heavy hand on Ford’s shoulder, Cort bent down and gave him a little shake. “She’ll want your son to be part of our lives, just like I do.”

“It might be weeks before he’s ready.” Weeks before Anthony’s convinced I’m willing to play by his rules so he doesn’t destroy this entire family. Again. He forced a smile. “I don’t want to rush things.”

Cort inclined his head and grabbed Ford’s hand, pulling him to his feet. “That’s fine, but I hope you fucking know when he’s ready, we will be too.”

Ford wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready.

But he had no choice.