Chapter One
Grant
My lips parted slightly, and seconds later, the tension in my neck and shoulders began melting away. That was until I heard frantic knocking on my truck window. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know it was Kieran disturbing my peace as usual.
I should consider opening a satellite office in Dallas just to get him off my ass.
“Big Bro!” his muffled voice called through the cracked window.
“Suck a dick, Wesley.”
“It’s too early in the morning to be an ass,” he scoffed.
“Eat a dick, Wesley.”
“Right after you, Maxwell.”
I rolled my eyes and considered lighting another cigarette while the half-smoked cigarette clung to my lips.
“Dad will kick your ass if he catches you smoking.”
That made me chuckle.
I’m a grown man. What the hell is Dad going to do?
“We have a meeting in five minutes.”
“Goodbye, Wesley.”
I relaxed in the seat once he stormed away. I didn’t want to be an ass, but I needed a few minutes of peace and quiet before I had to be everything to everyone. I was Grant, the problem-solver, and the problems began the moment I set foot through the door.
Knocking at the window interrupted me again.
“If you don’t walk away right now. I’ll beat your ass,” I threatened.
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Shit!” I cursed when the cigarette fell on my lap and rolled onto the floor. I jumped out of the truck, cursed again when I burnt my finger, and tossed it on the ground. I stared into my father’s eyes as he squashed the cigarette under an Italian leather loafer like it was a bug.
Jonathan Baker, Esquire—retired—was not one to be trifled with. He was an amazing father, devoted husband, and a shark in the courtroom, but as the years passed and my siblings’ and my shenanigans increased, his tolerance for bullshit was in Hell. He wasn’t as much of a hard ass as Granddad, but he wasn’t far from it. Hard ass or not, I admired the heck out of the man and disappointing him wasn’t high on my mile-long to-do list.
“You’re a smart man, Grant—brilliant, if you will.”
“Thank—”
“With that being said, you can see how I’m a little confused to find you smoking in your truck with the windows nearly up in a—” he paused chewing me out to open my suit to read the tag, “—custom-tailored Stefano Ricci suit before 8:00 AM. Do you think it’s professional to greet your clients reeking of cigarette smoke?”
“No, sir,” I replied, feeling like a scolded child.
“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page, and I’m confident this won’t happen again. Let’s go.”
I grabbed my briefcase and locked my truck before catching up to him. For a 57-year-old man, he was surprisingly active and still maintained his youthful physique, with the exception of silvery grays that threaded through his blonde hair and deepcrow’s feet at the corners of his moss-green eyes. I’d once made the mistake of asking him what his secret was. I’d expected him to say his weekly trips to the golf course with Uncle Ant or martial arts that he fell in love with again after retirement. Instead, he said, “Good diet and great sex.” I immediately regretted asking because it created an opening for him to pry into my love life, or lack thereof.
Not a family dinner passed when I wasn’t reminded of my age and hounded about finding a good person to settle down with to carry on the Baker family legacy, despite my siblings being right behind me in age.
Casey couldn’t keep his dick in his pants to save his life and was committed to remaining a bachelor. Daisy was getting married to the love of her life this weekend, and she was firmly opposed to having kids. And Kieran was too busy wreaking havoc and having fun with Ronan to even consider dating. He expressed not wanting to settle down until he was in his mid-thirties. So…that left me.
And no. I didn’t forget to mention the lost cause. It was deliberate. Mentioning her was like cracking open The Book of the Dead and reading from the text. You just didn’t do it.