The Banker (Modern Love Book 3) Read online

  Then his phone rings and the sound rips through the moment as sure as if it was a knife on a tapestry.

  I smack his chest. “You told me you put your ‘do not disturb’ on.” I crawl from his hold, because one thing I’m not used to with not using a condom is the clean-up required afterward. Seriously, it feels way better in the moment but this mess is a real bitch to deal with.

  “I did, but…” He stops abruptly.

  I rush into the bathroom anyway because all I can feel is Jasper dripping down the inside of my legs. Definitely a point in the con column for not using protection. “I think I’m going to have to shower,” I call out. “You want to join me?” I wipe myself off the best I can and walk to the doorway, but Jasper is now out on the balcony, naked.

  I’m guessing that means there really isn’t anyone around. Good thing he just made love to me. I’d say murder isn’t on the menu tonight.

  As the word ‘love’ rings out in my mind, Jasper comes back in the room, his forehead crinkled in deep set lines, his entire body tense. He quickly grabs his underwear from the floor and starts putting it on.

  “Is something wrong?” I ask.

  He stops what he’s doing and stares at me for second before bending to grab his jeans. “I have to tell you something.” I can see him swallow past the lump in his throat from here.

  My heart trips over itself as if it’s saying, you fool, you trusted him.

  I’ll give Jasper some props. Somehow, he convinces me to get dressed and get in the car with him without any explanation of what’s going on. Even with my heart screaming that something’s not right here, something is about to change everything, I do what he says.

  Now I sit in the passenger seat of his Range Rover as he speeds down the highway to some address he plugged into his GPS. A hospital about fifty miles away.

  “Was one of your parents in an accident?” I ask, since he’s yet to speak since we got in the vehicle.

  He’s pushed his hands through his hair no less than twenty times. I know this because I began to count after roughly the fifth time. When his hands aren’t in his hair, he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel.

  He glances over to me. “No.”

  But something is definitely wrong. The worry radiates off him in waves and it’s like he can’t get to the hospital fast enough. “Okay, is someone you know at the hospital we’re going to?” I ask slowly, as though somewhere between the bed and the car he lost his ability to understand English.

  “Yeah.”

  “And who would that be?” I ask in a cajoling voice because it’s like drawing information out of a two-year-old.

  He glances over to me, apology written all over his face. “My son.”

  17

  My eyes widen and I forget to breathe for a beat. “Oh,” is all I can manage before I sink into my seat.

  I wait for the anger to come. I should be up in arms, screaming about how he lied. Or lied by omission at the very least. I should be ramming him with a million questions.

  His gaze veers over once more and his fingers thread through his hair. “Say something,” he says.

  For the first time in all my life, I can’t. I’m stunned speechless.

  My mind is whirling with no one thought landing for more than a second before it pings to the next one. I don’t want to say the wrong thing, though I have no idea why because he lied. Who cares if I offend him? A war is being waged inside and victory wavers between my head and my heart.

  “He’s in the hospital?” I ask.

  He nods. “He’s at camp. That was the director who called. They think he broke his arm.” The distress evident in his words has me wanting to reach out and soothe him, but I keep my hands to myself.

  “How old is he?” I ask, still not understanding how I can sit here and not be losing my ever-loving mind on him. Maybe it’s because I care about Jasper and seeing him in pain makes me want to help him. Maybe it’s because if it was my niece or nephew, I would be as concerned as he is.

  “He’s six. Brady is his name.”

  I glance at the GPS and see we still have forty minutes until we arrive. Since he’s preoccupied and doesn’t seem like he’s really into answering questions, I face forward, crossing my legs and staring out the windshield.

  Eventually I grab my phone and text the girls to inform them of this latest development. Now their reactions? They seem much more in line with what I should be feeling right now. At least two out the three of us are thinking clearly.

  “You have nothing else to say?” Jasper asks after some time.

  I shift to face him. “No. We can talk later. Once you know that Brady is okay.”

  A strangled moan escapes his throat and I assume it has to do with his son. “Talk to me,” he says, pressing on the gas as we reach a long stretch with no cars in front of us.

  “What do you want me to say?” I ask, dropping my phone in the cup holder.

  “Tell me you don’t hate me,” he says and I realize that strangled moan moments ago wasn’t about his son, it was about us. Why does that warm my heart to him?

  “I don’t hate you,” I say with little emotion.

  A long stream of breath releases from his mouth. “I’m sorry, I know I should have told you, it’s just…I didn’t know how you’d react. In truth, not many people know about him. It’s safer for him.”

  “Are you in the Mob or something?” I ask because my imagination is beginning to run away from me with the way he’s talking. At this point I feel like anything is possible.

  “No.” He chuckles but there’s no humor behind it. “Brady attaches easily. I’ve never introduced him to a woman I was dating. He’s clingy with his teachers, clingy with my mom. He’s always seeking out female attention because he’s never known his mom.”

  Now my curiosity is piqued, but before I can ask him anything his phone rings through the speakers in his car.

  “Hold on,” he says, pressing a button on the steering wheel to accept the call. “I’m on my way,” he says by way of an answer. I look at the screen on his dash and see the word ‘Mom.’

  “Thank goodness. I called the hospital and it’s a break according to the doctor. Your father and I will start the drive in a few minutes.” I hear mumbling and crinkling of paper in the background.

  “No need. The camp leader called me and said they’re casting it. I was away for the weekend, so I’m not that far. I’ll pick him up and we’ll stay up here until Sunday.” His thumb hovers over the call end button like a sniper on surveillance.

  “Your father and I will come up there then and watch him while you work.” I hear a car door slam shut and an engine roar.

  “Mom, I’m not working,” he informs her.

  “Then what are you doing?” she asks and covers the receiver, though not very well because I can hear her relay the information to who I assume is his dad.

  Jasper looks over at me, a pained look on his face. “I’m with someone,” he says in a defeated voice, like she has him locked up in an interrogation room with a spotlight over his head.

  “Oh.” Her voice is low and unsure. Again, she relays this information to his dad. “He’s with someone,” she says, and his dad says, “What? Who?”

  “Who?” she repeats his dad’s question and Jasper blows out an exaggerated breath.

  “Listen, I’ll call you after I get Brady. I might need your help because I doubt if he’s going to be able to go back to camp.”

  “We don’t mind meeting your special friend,” she says.

  A laugh bursts from my throat before I can stop it and I try to cover it up with a cough.

  Jasper gives me the death glare, but his lips tip up after a second, too.

  “I’m sorry,” I mouth.

  “Can she hear me?” his mother asks and I cringe.

  “Well, I’m driving, Mom.”

  “Oh.”

  This whole scenario is so uncomfortable.

  “Hello, Mrs. Banks,” I say and Jasper’s
head swivels in my direction so fast, I’m surprised it doesn’t continue all the way around in a move from The Exorcist. I wave off his frantic look. “My name is Lennon Hart.” I figure it’s best to just introduce myself rather than pretending I’m a mute.

  “Hello,” she says. “Lennon Hart,” she repeats quietly to his dad.

  “Oh,” he says and I can imagine the conversation at their dinner table must be stellar if this phone call is any indication.

  “Okay, there you go, Mom. I gotta go,” Jasper says, sounding like he can’t get off the line fast enough.

  “Well, why don’t we have Lennon over for dinner?” she asks, ignoring his last statement.

  We? Does Jasper live with his parents? The fact is, he’s only ever taken me to his boat, then to my apartment, and now this cabin. I’ve never actually seen his condo.

  “We’ll see. Let’s focus on Brady right now.” His thumb hovers over the end call button.

  “Yes, please call me once you have him,” she says.

  “I will.”

  “So, we shouldn’t come?” she asks again and I press my lips together to keep from laughing.

  “No, you shouldn’t. I’ll call,” Jasper repeats.

  “Okay,” his mom says. “Lennon?” she asks and Jasper sighs, his head falling back onto the headrest.

  “Yes, Mrs. Banks?”

  “Dinner. Monday night at five o’clock,” she says in what’s an authoritative tone now. “You can get the address from Jasper.” I look over to Jasper who rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

  “How about a ‘would you like,’ or a ‘please?’” Jasper says, his voice laced with annoyance.

  “I’d love to,” I say, not really sure if I mean it.

  “Bye, Mom,” he says and disconnects before she can get another word out.

  After his mom is finally off the line, I laugh. Probably not the best reaction, but whatever. “I don’t know if I can be with you,” I deadpan.

  He glances over for a second before looking back at the road. “What? Why?”

  “You just hung up on your mother.” I tsk him, lightening the mood. This kid thing definitely changes things, but for once I control myself and avoid a rash outburst, figuring we’ll talk after.

  “Oh, just wait. You’ll be hanging up on her too.” He pauses for a second before adding, “I can get you out of the dinner.”

  I pat his leg. His thigh is rock hard and I really look at him for the first time since he got the phone call. He’s like a guitar string wound too tight and close to snapping.

  “Who said I wanted to get out of it?” Blood rushes through my ears and bile rises up my throat. I’ve never met any guy’s parents except for in high school. I hate the whole meet-and-greet with the ’rents and having to pretend I’m someone I’m not.

  He shakes his head. “You’re something else.”

  I’ve heard that a lot in my life, but this is the first time I think it’s a compliment.

  18

  We cross over the state line into Oregon a short time later and a while after that we pull into the hospital entrance.

  “Just stop by the emergency and I’ll park the truck,” I say.

  Jasper does exactly that. He’s out of the car in a flash, running through the emergency room doors. I park the truck and then walk through the doors a little reluctantly. Mostly because I’m not sure what my place is here. The closer we got to the hospital, the more real the situation became. The more I wished I was on the brown leather couch back at the cabin, or hell, maybe back in San Francisco.

  There’s no chance this kid will like me, I think as I look around. But my brother’s kids love me. Yeah, that’s because you’re the irresponsible aunt, my subconscious says and I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

  Needing a coffee to curb my anxiety, I buy the horrible vending machine one. I’m sure this remote mountain town probably doesn’t have a Starbucks anywhere in the vicinity.

  I take a seat in the waiting room, figuring that when Jasper’s done, he’ll find me and introduce me to Brady. Thank God this is going to go down in a hospital because there’s a chance I might actually pass out.

  While I sip on the disgusting brew they’re calling coffee, I spot some college-aged kids in Camp Tall Pines t-shirts. The two of them have worried looks on their faces and keep checking their phones.

  “Why did you let him climb that?” one girl asks the other.

  “You were supposed to be watching him,” the other girl says.

  They’re passing blame. Surely, he can’t be the first kid to break a bone at camp?

  “Are you here for Brady Banks?” I ask them and for the first time I put his name together. Brady Banks. Makes me think about Richie Rich. I laugh inside.

  The girls turn to me with wide eyes, neither one wanting to say anything.

  I point to their shirts. “Or is there another kid here with a broken arm?”

  The blonde girl smiles. “Yes, we brought him in with our leader,” she says. “Are you his mother? I’m so sorry.”

  “Do I look old enough to be a mom?” I ask, a little offended. I can’t be more than five years older than this girl.

  “Well,” the redhead says.

  “How old are you?” I ask, still upset they think I could be someone’s mother.

  “Twenty,” blondie says.

  Okay, so six years. Whatever.

  “I’m only a little older than you. Definitely not old enough to have a six-year-old.”

  Then I calculate the math in my head. Fuck me. I am old enough to be his mother. When the hell did that happen?

  “Oh, sorry,” the redhead says, hitting the blonde’s arm.

  I finish my coffee, place it on the table and turn my attention to the TV in the waiting area. Ah, good ol’ Maury Povich.

  “I can’t believe this is still on.” I chuckle to myself. “‘You are not the father,’” I say in a deep voice.

  The two young girls stare over at me like I’m a crazy person and yes, I’ve just confirmed to them that I am in fact old. At least to them.

  So I remain quiet. A few minutes later, a tall woman with a ponytail and camp t-shirt walks in the room.

  “Robin, Carrie. Let’s go. Brady’s dad will take it from here.” She exits the waiting area without waiting for them.

  The blonde stops beside me before she leaves. “We’re really sorry. Brady is so great and we never wanted to see him hurt. I hope he’s okay.” She puts her head down and walks out of the hospital.

  “Thanks,” I call out, unsure if she heard me.

  Poor girl, but at least she’s escaping before she has to face Brady’s father.

  Father.

  Dad.

  Jasper is someone’s daddy.

  I still can’t believe it.

  By the time Jasper comes into the waiting area my ass is numb, my back aches and my legs are stiff. I’m cracking my neck and back, stretching out, trying to relieve some of the tension in my muscles.

  “Man, what a view. Is this what I was missing?” he says, right as I arch my back, sticking my tits out.

  It’s nice to see a smile on his face again.

  I stand and he grabs my hand. “How is he?” I ask.

  He squeezes my hand. “Good. Broken arm, but thankfully no surgery or resetting is needed. He’s in the cast for six weeks, though.” He huffs out a breath. “Here I thought he’d be at camp for a few more weeks enjoying himself, but he’s coming home with me.”

  “Well, I’m glad he’s okay.” I hug Jasper to my body.

  “Thanks for being understanding,” he says, running a hand along my back and kissing my neck. Shivers shouldn’t race up my neck in this setting, but they do.

  He draws back and he’s back to serious Jasper. “So it’s time you meet him. They’re putting together his discharge papers. We can stay at the cabin tonight and then talk. If you want to go back to the city tomorrow, I understand.”

  I nod, not giving him an answer because I have n
o idea what I want to do. I still need a lot of answers and truthfully, I don’t even know what he expects from me. He said himself he’s never introduced Brady to someone he’s seeing. For all I know he’s dreading this meeting as much if not more than I am.

  “Let’s go. He’s excited.” He smiles and it seems genuine.

  My tummy twists into a million tiny knots before combining into one giant ball that sits in the pit of my stomach.

  I follow him down the hallway and I take the last breath I have before his son becomes a real live person to me. One who can and will judge me. Usually that’s not something I give much thought to, but I find myself wanting to make a good impression on Jasper’s son.

  I step in to find a smiling boy with Jasper’s hazel eyes and a head of moppy brown hair. His arm cast is green. Go figure.

  “Hi, I’m Brady,” he introduces himself, sliding over the bed as though he’s making room for me. “Will you be the first to sign my cast?” he asks and my gaze darts to Jasper for a second. He shoots me a look of apology and that only endears Brady to me more.

  “Well, yeah, that means I’m number one, right?”

  Brady smiles at me like I hung the moon in the sky and I know I’m in deep trouble with this little boy, the same as when I first met his father—if not more.

  19

  Something Jasper forgot to mention was that Brady never shuts up. Okay, I should’ve put that more nicely. Let’s just say he’s expressive and he has a lot to talk about. Is that more appropriate?

  Luckily, he’s fast asleep in the guest room and I’m sitting with Jasper on the steps of the cabin.

  “I was just finishing up my master’s when Gina got pregnant.”

  Jasper and Gina. Damn, those two names sound good together. Way better than Jasper and Lennon.

  I say nothing and wrap my arms around my legs, then rest my cheek on my knees, watching him and waiting for him to continue.

  “She wasn’t ready to be a mom. Truthfully, I don’t even know if she’d have ever been ready.” He looks away from me and out to the forest in front of us.