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Once I knew I could become a father, it was like I had a fire light up inside me. Until then, all I gave a damn about was my career and success, but that quickly changed when the pregnancy test came out positive.
I grew up with a father that I barely knew and had always vowed to be the best damn dad I could be to my own children. I’d convinced Sarah to marry me and to carry the pregnancy to term because it felt like the right thing to do, but things quickly imploded once the twins were born.
One morning I woke up and she was gone. Her shit was packed, the kids were still in their cribs, and there was nothing except divorce papers in my mailbox waiting for me to sign. She was all too pleased to get her 50% share of my wealth. Once I got over the shock of it, I couldn’t sign those fuckers fast enough.
I’d make my money back easily enough.
We were better off without a woman that didn’t want to be in our lives.
My phone rang in my pocket and I pulled it out. It was from a number I didn’t recognize. I swiped at my screen and opened up the message, figuring it was from Owen.
He was always breaking his cell phones.
Didn’t know if you had my new number. It was nice seeing you on the island. Maybe we could get together for a drink? -Sarah
Nope. Definitely not Owen.
What the hell was Sarah doing? I hadn’t spoken with her in years, and now she wanted to fucking get drinks? The woman was delusional, and the last thing I was going to do was open that door back up. My children were at stake in that situation. And she already had a reputation of walking out and taking as much money with her as she could in the process. There was no way in hell I was getting drinks with that woman unless she wanted to specifically talk about the children.
Other than that, the door was staying closed.
For good.
I placed the cell phone in my back pocket, ready to erase Sarah’s memory from my mind for the rest of the night. I had better things to do.
The doorbell ringing pulled me from my trance. The kids went running down the hallway and pulled open the door, and my eyes fell directly onto Brooke. Focusing for a moment on the tight jeans that clung to those thick thighs.
The same thighs I could remember her wrapping around my face.
Her shirt fluttered nicely over her chest, where her prominent cleavage was exposed, revealing a sneak peek of her breasts, round and tanned from the sun.
But the flowing material of her blouse left a bit to the imagination.
I’d always loved that about her. How her clothes showed her off as well as covered her up.
Clearing my throat, I invited them in before Daniel shut the door behind them.
“It smells good in here,” Morgan said.
“If you want to come into the kitchen, I’ve got plenty of wine for us to drink,” I said.
Brooke walked past me, and I could tell she was impressed with the best. My home may have been a bit much to take in at first, but it was home-sweet-home to myself and my kids.
Fuck.
It’s going to be hard to keep my eyes off that ass.
“You have a chef in here?” Morgan asked.
I grinned as I ushered Brooke into the kitchen.
I picked up a glass of wine and handed it to her before turning to give Brooke hers.
“Daddy? Can I have some milk?” Sydney asked.
“Me too!” Daniel said.
“Of course. Let me get you guys some cups. Why don’t you go sit at the table?” I asked.
