Rebound (Seattle Steelheads #1)(75)

But there was no smugness or gloating tonight. I slammed the car door with more force than was necessary and stormed up the front steps. I knocked hard enough he had to have heard me no matter where he was in the house. If he had on a pair of noise-canceling headphones, a few texts would get his attention.

The door opened, and I almost let fly before I realized the person standing there wasn’t Marcus. It was Wes, a young coworker of his. He was also shirtless and very conspicuously tousled.

I schooled my expression. “Is Marcus here?”

“He is.” Wes waved toward the stairs. “You want me to get him?”

Pretty sure you’ve already got him.

“Yes, please.”

He gestured for me to come in, closed the door behind me, and had me wait in the foyer while he jogged up the stairs.

While I waited in the foyer, it occurred to me that I’d had suspicions about Marcus and Wes more than once during our relationship. I hadn’t had any concrete proof that he’d cheated, so I’d dismissed my own concerns as insecurities. Maybe I’d been on to something after all.

“Geoff.” Marcus started down the stairs, long fingers running along the polished hardwood bannister. His smarmy grin made my hackles go up. “This is unexpected.”

“We need to talk,” I said coldly.

“Well, come on in.” He cleared the bottom step and motioned toward the kitchen. “Let’s have a drink.”

I planted my feet. “I’m not planning on staying that long.”

He stopped and faced me. “I was just trying to be polite.”

“Uh-huh.” I narrowed my eyes. “You want to tell me why you’re meeting up with my kids and telling them not to tell me?”

He laughed dryly. “Well, I knew you’d overreact, so I—”

“No, Marcus. No, you are not turning this around on me.” I stepped closer, stabbing a finger at him. “You told those kids that if I left you, that was it. There’d be no more contact. Why are you contacting them now?”

The son of a bitch actually had the brass balls to look hurt. “You don’t want me talking to them? After all that bitching you did about how crushed they’d be if I suddenly cut off contact?” He shrugged dismissively. “They were heartbroken when we—”

“Save it,” I snapped. “They were heartbroken because before tonight, they had no idea you’d been treating me like shit when they weren’t looking. And now you’re filling their heads with—”

“Whoa. Whoa. Hold the fuck on.” He closed some of the distance between us. “Treating you like shit? Is that what you call helping to take care of your kids? Kids who aren’t even mine?”

“When there’s strings attached? Yeah. I do.”

“Oh please.” He gestured dismissively. “For God’s sake, Geoff. Listen to yourself. Where would your kids be if I hadn’t been there with my checkbook? You can’t honestly tell me your hockey boy isn’t attractive because he’s got money. Especially since you’ve got to be missing mine by now.”

I blinked. “Seriously? You think I’m with him because I wanted someone richer?”

“What can I say? I know you.” He shrugged. “You can spot security when you see it.” He must have seen the what the fuck are you talking about? in my eyes, because he continued, “You were a wreck when I met you, and now that you’re not, fuck the guy who helped you and your kids up off rock bottom. Of course you’ve suddenly got a thing for the millionaire hockey star. He’s got financial security written all over him, just like I did.”

“That has nothing to do—”

“The only difference is that you’re going to have a harder time holding on to a twenty-something who can have anyone he wants. Once a man has access to something younger and hotter”—He made a not-so-inconspicuous gesture of looking up the stairs where Wes had gone—“why would he stick around for something that’s over the hill?”

“Says the man who’s going to be fifty in six months.”

He laughed dryly. “Yeah. Fifty with no dependents and a net worth that makes the younger men overlook the gray hair. Tell me—what do you have to offer your young, rich boyfriend?”

“Everything you took for granted, apparently.” My voice shook more than I wanted it to, but what could I say? It hurt. It fucking hurt to acknowledge that I’d loved him when all he saw in a relationship was a series of transactions.

Marcus shook his head. “You know, a man who’s been to war and worked as a cop should be a lot more cynical than you. But you’re still a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”

“Better a hopeless romantic than a hopeless cynic, I think. Especially a cynic who’s willing to tell my kids that I’m just dating someone because of a midlife crisis.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Do I even need to glorify that with a response?”

He gave another dry laugh and shook his head. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. And I’m just saying—for your sake, you’d better hope your midlife crisis ends before that kid loses interest.” His expression almost came across as concerned, but the subtle sneer wasn’t so subtle in his voice, “You haven’t let Claire and David get attached to him, have you?”