“We are calling on Ms. McKenna to cease her”—he holds up his hands to mimic quotes— “‘investigation’ and stop causing further harm to Mr. Taylor, his reputation, and his family.”
I drop the phone onto my lap.
“First, I wasn’t fired. I’m not desperate, and I’m a fucking investigative journalist, not a reporter.” I stand, throw the phone on the bed and cross my arms.
When I glance up at Travis, the way he’s looking at me scares me.
“What family?” he asks, crossing his arms.
Huh.
Good question.
CHAPTER TWENTY
TRAVIS
––––––––
It was only a matter of time. I haven’t seen my father for almost two decades, but I remember the control freak he was. Watching his legal team tear Brook to pieces filled me with fury. Lie after fucking lie poured from their mouths.
Torn between wanting to defend her, violently, and crushing my father, it was the final comment that caught my attention.
Family.
Aside from me, after Mom died, he has no one.
His own parents had died the year before Mom, and he had no siblings. I think there might have been a distance cousin, but that’s grasping at straws even for his legal team.
I am not his family any longer after legally emancipating myself from him when I was a teenager.
Now that my name has changed, he won’t find me. Unless I want him to. Even then, I could deny he is who he claims.
But he’s clearly worried that his dark secret is being exposed. It is.
And I’m going to ensure the worst of it is told publicly.
Loudly.
Seeing his legal threat—because it was a threat—to Brook played out triggered something inside me. A deep and almost vicious need to protect her. This time it’s less about keeping other men away, and more about protecting what is mine.
She belongs to me.
These uninvited feelings are throwing a wrench in the works. But I can’t ignore them. Not wanting another man near her, lying on the damn snow laughing, sliding her onto my cock, and wishing the world would disappear so I could live in a hut in Switzerland with her.
It would be a nice hut, just for the record.
Ten bedrooms, four baths.
I digress.
As we sit opposite each other over dinner and the candle flickers between us, I curse silently and accept what’s happening.
I’m falling in love.
Goddamn it.
It could be over in a week. I’ve never loved a woman before, and it could be like an itch. You know, like the need to have an ice-cold Coca-Cola. Once you’ve quenched your thirst, you’re done.
