Shawn repeated.
“Like Bee looks at a pancake.”
Shawn forced out a smile. This was a whole new level of awkward. “You just imagined it, pumpkin.”
“But—”
“You just imagined it,” Shawn repeated, hoping Rutledge hadn’t heard Emily’s words.
Rutledge’s face was hard and cold, devoid of all color. This was a man who was coming home to his father and his family after fifteen years. He looked about as happy as a man on his way to jail.
A butler—a goddamn butler—opened the door and greeted Rutledge with a quiet, “Master Derek.”
Shawn led the girls inside. They looked shy and nervous, and Shawn had to admit he wasn’t any less nervous than them; he was simply better at disguising it.
His first impression of the hall was of vastness—of marble and pillars and classical busts and a towering dome.
“Derek!”
Shawn looked up. A tall dark-haired woman was walking down the stairs, a vaguely relieved smile on her lips. She hugged Rutledge and kissed him on the cheek.
“Vivian,” Rutledge murmured. “You look good.”
So this was the sister who had convinced him to come.
Shawn eyed her curiously. He could certainly see the family resemblance. She seemed a few years older than her brother, perhaps thirty-five.
Vivian pulled back and stared at Shawn and the girls over Rutledge’s shoulder, but before she or Shawn could say anything, two elderly men entered the house.
One of them, the taller one, bore an uncanny resemblance to Rutledge. In fact, they could have been twins if the man wasn’t about thirty years older. Shawn decided this must be Rutledge’s father, Joseph Rutledge.
“The prodigal son returns,” Joseph said with a sneer. “I knew this day would come.”
“Then you were wrong,” Rutledge said coldly. “I came only because Vivian wouldn’t stop nagging me. Apparently, you’re practically on your deathbed.”
“Derek!” Vivian said, looking outraged.
“I’ll have to disappoint you, then,” Joseph said. “I’m in excellent health.” He was lying. He had an almost gray tinge to his complexion. “So you won’t get my money any time soon.”
“You know I don’t need your money,” Rutledge said.
They glared at each other icily, and the resemblance they shared was striking. Shawn wondered if Rutledge knew it and resented it.
At this moment, Joseph shifted his gaze to Shawn.
His sharp dark eyes swept over him from head to toe, making Shawn painfully aware of his worn out, cheap clothes.
Rutledge senior’s lips twisted in derision. “And this?”
Rutledge took a step toward Shawn and put a hand on his shoulder. “This is my lover, Shawn Wyatt.”
The other old man inhaled sharply.
Joseph’s face betrayed nothing, yet somehow, the temperature in the room seemed to drop a dozen degrees.
Shawn grimaced on the inside, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected that.
“Shawn, this is my father, Joseph Rutledge,” Rutledge said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. The asshole was absolutely enjoying this. “And my father’s old friend, Nathan Brooks.”
“Nice to meet you,” Shawn lied, wondering if Mr. Brooks was the man whose daughter Joseph wanted his son to marry.
“I see,” Joseph said at last before shifting his heavy gaze to the twins. “And these are?”
Shawn suppressed the urge to hide the girls behind his back. “These are my sisters, Mr. Rutledge. Emily and Melissa.” For once, Bee remained quiet and didn’t argue about her name. Both girls moved closer to Shawn.
“I see,” Joseph Rutledge said again before addressing a maid. “Prepare rooms for our guests.”
“Prepare a room next to mine for the children,” Rutledge cut in. “Obviously Shawn will stay in mine.”
Shawn cringed a bit.
The vein in Joseph’s temple throbbed. Vivian watched her father worriedly. Mr. Brooks had a look of disgust on his face that he didn’t bother to hide.
“Do as he says,” Joseph Rutledge bit out, breaking the silence. “Show them to
“Like Bee looks at a pancake.”
Shawn forced out a smile. This was a whole new level of awkward. “You just imagined it, pumpkin.”
“But—”
“You just imagined it,” Shawn repeated, hoping Rutledge hadn’t heard Emily’s words.
Rutledge’s face was hard and cold, devoid of all color. This was a man who was coming home to his father and his family after fifteen years. He looked about as happy as a man on his way to jail.
A butler—a goddamn butler—opened the door and greeted Rutledge with a quiet, “Master Derek.”
Shawn led the girls inside. They looked shy and nervous, and Shawn had to admit he wasn’t any less nervous than them; he was simply better at disguising it.
His first impression of the hall was of vastness—of marble and pillars and classical busts and a towering dome.
“Derek!”
Shawn looked up. A tall dark-haired woman was walking down the stairs, a vaguely relieved smile on her lips. She hugged Rutledge and kissed him on the cheek.
“Vivian,” Rutledge murmured. “You look good.”
So this was the sister who had convinced him to come.
Shawn eyed her curiously. He could certainly see the family resemblance. She seemed a few years older than her brother, perhaps thirty-five.
Vivian pulled back and stared at Shawn and the girls over Rutledge’s shoulder, but before she or Shawn could say anything, two elderly men entered the house.
One of them, the taller one, bore an uncanny resemblance to Rutledge. In fact, they could have been twins if the man wasn’t about thirty years older. Shawn decided this must be Rutledge’s father, Joseph Rutledge.
“The prodigal son returns,” Joseph said with a sneer. “I knew this day would come.”
“Then you were wrong,” Rutledge said coldly. “I came only because Vivian wouldn’t stop nagging me. Apparently, you’re practically on your deathbed.”
“Derek!” Vivian said, looking outraged.
“I’ll have to disappoint you, then,” Joseph said. “I’m in excellent health.” He was lying. He had an almost gray tinge to his complexion. “So you won’t get my money any time soon.”
“You know I don’t need your money,” Rutledge said.
They glared at each other icily, and the resemblance they shared was striking. Shawn wondered if Rutledge knew it and resented it.
At this moment, Joseph shifted his gaze to Shawn.
His sharp dark eyes swept over him from head to toe, making Shawn painfully aware of his worn out, cheap clothes.
Rutledge senior’s lips twisted in derision. “And this?”
Rutledge took a step toward Shawn and put a hand on his shoulder. “This is my lover, Shawn Wyatt.”
The other old man inhaled sharply.
Joseph’s face betrayed nothing, yet somehow, the temperature in the room seemed to drop a dozen degrees.
Shawn grimaced on the inside, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected that.
“Shawn, this is my father, Joseph Rutledge,” Rutledge said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. The asshole was absolutely enjoying this. “And my father’s old friend, Nathan Brooks.”
“Nice to meet you,” Shawn lied, wondering if Mr. Brooks was the man whose daughter Joseph wanted his son to marry.
“I see,” Joseph said at last before shifting his heavy gaze to the twins. “And these are?”
Shawn suppressed the urge to hide the girls behind his back. “These are my sisters, Mr. Rutledge. Emily and Melissa.” For once, Bee remained quiet and didn’t argue about her name. Both girls moved closer to Shawn.
“I see,” Joseph Rutledge said again before addressing a maid. “Prepare rooms for our guests.”
“Prepare a room next to mine for the children,” Rutledge cut in. “Obviously Shawn will stay in mine.”
Shawn cringed a bit.
The vein in Joseph’s temple throbbed. Vivian watched her father worriedly. Mr. Brooks had a look of disgust on his face that he didn’t bother to hide.
“Do as he says,” Joseph Rutledge bit out, breaking the silence. “Show them to
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