Call You Mine (The Baker’s Creek Billionaire Brothers #4) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,60

I argue.

“I know.”

“Then, why would you take on that job?”

“I already explained it to you. If someone was going to watch over you, that should be me. He was going to do it, G. It’s his nature. Just like it’s my mission to watch after you—always.”

“This…” I trail my voice, not knowing how to finish my sentence.

“If you want to kick my ass, just do it.”

“No!” I warn him. “Do not throw jokes to soften the blow. I’m so, so…I’m mad at you. At my father. I don’t know what to think.”

“Please don’t leave.”

“You’d rather have me here spewing venom and wanting to punch you?”

He nods. “I prepared for it.”

“So, you were aware that I’d be upset, and you didn’t care?”

“I care. This wasn’t an easy choice. It was the best though,” he counters. “I understand what I’m facing. It’s going to take a lot to convince you that I love you. That you’re not a job. To get you to forgive me. I’m prepared for all that.”

“Well, then you know it’s time to call it a night.” I point toward the door.

“You need to eat. We don’t have anything in your fridge or pantry.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

He nods, steps closer to me, and I take a few steps back. “Come closer, and you’ll end up with a black eye, Aldridge.”

“A black eye in exchange for a kiss?” His eyebrow lifts, and he moves an inch toward me. “What do I get for two?”

“Beacon, I’m not kidding.”

“I thought we’re negotiating.”

“Out!”

“I’m leaving only because I know you need space. You’re not only upset at me but at him.” He shows me his phone. “Call, okay. Remember that he tries his best. He’s one of the best dads I’ve ever met.”

He leaves, and I stare at the door before I pick up the phone and call my father.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Beacon

Leaving Grace seems wrong.

I have to respect her wishes and give her space. My mind is running at a hundred miles per hour, wondering how I’m going to grovel. I want to get the fuck out of town to burn some energy. I could use an outlet. Checking on the guys is my first option, but I’m not in the mood to be around anyone. Which is why going home to play mind-fuck games with my brothers isn’t an option.

When I reach the mansion, I march toward my studio instead. It’s better if I avoid everyone. Banging some drums could be the ticket to release the pent-up energy I accumulated since I spoke to Mason. This situation could’ve been prevented long ago.

I’m concerned about G. She’s pretty levelheaded. She also hates when people lie to her. I send her a quick text before entering my place.

Beac: I’m here if you need me.

I put my phone away. Knowing Grace, she’s already talking to her dad. Instead of going to the studio first, I go to the underground house. I need to change from the stuffy suit I wore—just for her—to a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

When I hear a commotion, I cock my head toward the game room.

My jaw clenches when I notice my brothers and my band are talking on top of each other while playing pool.

Fuck. So much for being alone.

What the fuck happened to no one is allowed in this place without my authorization?

I need some time for myself.

Get the fuck out of here, people!

Ugh. When the guys learn what happened, they’re not going to want to leave. It’s not like I’m going to grab a case of scotch and drink myself stupid. I walk by, hoping they don’t notice me. If they do, I’ll just ignore them.

When I check my cell phone, there’s nothing from Grace. Is she still on the phone with her Dad?

Probably. That’s a long, overdue conversation. After she hangs up, she’s going to have to process everything she learned today. Fuck. I knew this day was coming, but I wish she hadn’t kicked me out. I blame him.

Who assigns a security team to his daughter without her knowledge?

Mason fucking Bradley, that’s who. If he had tried reasoning with her…well, he never gave her a chance. Did he?

Grace likes to find the logic behind everything. They could’ve compromised. At eighteen, I just did what I believed was best for Grace. I was just a stupid kid in love who would’ve died for her. Well, I’ll still die for her. Four years ago, I told him he should discuss the subject with her. He responded that I didn’t