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Boone’s groan was more than audible that time, judging by the blush darkening Memphis’ cheeks. “It’s not, sweetheart. Not at all.”
The second the door closed, Wells turned a dark look on Boone. “She’s mine.”
Boone grunted. “Hardly. You can take the accountant from earlier. Memphis King is mine.”
Growling out my frustration, I rested my hands on my hips and scowled at them both. “We’ve got a fucking problem, then, because I want her, too.”
3.
***Boone***
Mrs.Hathemovedbackinto the conference room and raised her eyebrows at the three of us. “Should I dismiss Ms. King?”
I sent her an easy smile and shook my head. “No. Ms. King stays.”
“We’re done with interviews for right now. The three of us have something to discuss before we move forward.” Remy was pissed, I could tell. He’d never been able to hide his feelings from me or Wells. “Wait outside, please.”
“There are women waiting to be interviewed, Mr. Hawke. Should I have them stay?” The woman was probably just as pissed as Remy, but she knew the money she’d make from us was worth dealing with our shit.
“Fine. Sure.” Remy turned his back to her and walked back to the table, knocking his knuckles against the smooth surface. “This isn’t going to work.”
Wells waited for Mrs. Hathe to leave before responding. “She’s perfect. Smart, beautiful, sweet. She comes from a good family and that accent…”
“It’s sexy as hell. I’m dying to hear her say my name.” I sighed as I sank into the chair Memphis had just been in.
“I’m sorry. Are you confused about what a surrogacy is?” Wells shook his head at me. “We’re not fucking her. We’re picking her for her perfect baby-making genes. At least, that’s what I thought we were doing.”
“What are we doing? Rock, paper, scissors?” Ignoring Wells, I focused on what really mattered. Who was going to get Memphis and how would I make sure it was me?
Remy loosened his tie as he turned back to me and scowled. “Really? I could’ve sworn you were only three years younger than me, not thirty.”
“I’m waiting to hear your grand idea, big brother.” I ran my hand over my beard and then dug my fingers into my jaw muscles. I’d been clenching them for weeks and I was feeling the consequences.
“A month ago I was positive I was never having kids, Boone, so forgive me if I’m not full of grand ideas here. I just know that playing rock, paper, scissors to decide who gets a wholewomanis probably shitty.” Yanking his tie completely free, Remy balled it in his fist and shook his head. “Fucking Don really did it this time.”
I stretched my legs out in front of me and watched as Wells pulled himself up on the table to sit. I could tell he was struggling with the idea just as much as we were, even though he was the only one of us who thought he’d ever have kids someday.
“There’s no changing what Don did; we already tried. He guaranteed his will was iron clad. We have kids in the next five years or we can kiss our inheritance goodbye. Let’s skip the part where we feel sorry for ourselves and just get on with it. If I’m being forced into having a kid, I want Memphis. She’s got it all. She’ll make a kid I can deal with and if I’m lucky, maybe she’ll want to cozy up to me.” I thought of her big green eyes looking up at me and groaned. “Are we settled? I take Memphis, you two fight over whoever is left?”
“The fuck we’re settled. I’m not backing down. I’m taking Memphis.” Wells glared at me. “If I’m being forced into doing this shit, I’m going to do it as much my way as I can.”
Remy knocked his knuckles on the table again and shook his head. “Neither of you are taking Memphis. I’m the oldest. I’m choosing her.”
I stood up. “Don’t pull that shit. I don’t care if you’re the oldest.”
“Do you care that I’m the richest?” Remy met me toe to toe. “I’m footing the bill for this. I get to pick who I want first.”
“You’re only paying because you jumped at the chance to throw your money around. If it’s a matter of putting up the money, I’m in.” I tossed a grin in Wells’ direction. “Matter of fact, I’m sure Welly is, too. You’re not talking to two chumps from the street corner, Remy.”
He frowned. “It was worth a shot.”
Wells squeezed his shoulder and grunted. “I’m starting to think rock, paper, scissors is a good idea.”
“Against a surgeon? No, thanks.” Remy flashed me a rare grin and then walked back around to take his seat, scowling again by the time he sat down. “I wish our dear father was still alive so I could kill him myself. This is a waste of time. None of us want this.”
“Don would never have given us the pleasure of killing him, the bastard.” I sank back into the chair again and looked up at the ceiling. “He couldn’t even fucking die without giving us a hard time.”
“I’ll never understand why he was hell bent on forcing us to have kids when he hated us so much for so long.” Wells let out a bitter laugh. “Although, maybe this was just another part of his torture. He probably thought having kids would be the worst punishment we could ever face. After all, he seemed to think that’s what we were to him.”
