Page 5 of The Billionaire's Secret Heir

Chapter Three

“Graham?” Beckett called from the entryway of his brother’s house. After ringing the bell several times, he walked right in. Who kept doors unlocked in this day and age? Graham lived in a fairly nice area called Garden Oaks, just outside the Heights, but locking the front door seemed like a basic tenet of safety. “Hello? Anyone here?”

“We’re in the sun room!” Graham’s voice floated out to him from somewhere at the back of the sprawling ranch house.

Beckett had to watch his step through the house, walking around piles of toys and clothes, discarded as though Graham’s children had run right out of them. His lip curled at the mess and he fought the urge to pick things up as he went. It was a toss-up as to which was worse: leaving the house in its current state or touching the various things left out. Beckett spotted a half-eaten sandwich on the living room sofa and shuddered.

Graham certainly had the money to hire someone to clean the house. Beckett lived alone and kept things almost spotless, but still had a service that came twice a week, keeping his home immaculate. He’d suggested them to Graham once before and his brother had only laughed.

The noise led him through to the sun room, which was a bonus room that had been added onto the house at some point in time. The double doors connecting it to the kitchen were wide open right now, but in the summer, the room would likely be shut off because of the heat. All the glass would make it impractical to cool. Graham sat on the couch with his laptop, a shaggy dog at his feet and children running through the room, swinging pool noodles at each other. Somewhere, music was playing. Beckett felt his blood pressure rising, but Graham waved a lazy hand, smiling as though he was totally at ease.

“Hey, brother! Kids, say hello to your Uncle Beck!”

His niece and nephew were six and eight. He didn’t spend a lot of time with them, but gave them extravagant gifts at Christmas and for their birthdays that seemed appreciated. His lack of overt affection did nothing to dim their adoration of him. He never felt quite worthy of it.

“Uncle Beck!” Selena shouted, throwing herself into his legs.

Beckett patted her head and smiled down at her. “Hello, Selena.”

Her older brother Logan followed, hugging him around the waist. “Hello, Uncle Beck.”

“It’s good to see you, Logan,” Beckett said.

Graham smiled up from the couch and nudged his glasses up on his nose. “To what do I owe the honor, brother? Oh, wait. Let me guess: Dad talked to you.”

Beckett tried to conceal the anger in his expression. “Could we talk somewhere a little more private?”

“Of course.”

Graham snapped his laptop shut. When he rose from the couch, Beckett realized he was wearing pajamas. It may have been the weekend, but it was nearing dinnertime. This had been Beckett’s only outing of the day, but he wore pressed khakis, a white dress shirt neatly buttoned and tucked in with a belt. Though he and Graham had the same ice-blue eyes, prominent cheekbones, and square jaws, Beckett could never understand how they were so different.

“Beckett!” Graham’s wife, Courtney, appeared next to Beckett. She gave him a warm smile and a simple pat on the arm, her blonde curls bouncing against her shoulder. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Hello, Courtney. How are you?”

She laughed and gestured to the kids and the messy house. “Oh, you know—it’s wild around here. But good. You should drop in for dinner sometime. You know that you’re welcome, right?”

“Thank you so much for the offer,” Beckett said, not wanting to commit. The likelihood that he would have time for dinner with them was slim. And even if he had time, the one dinner he spent with them felt more like surviving a tornado while sitting at a kitchen table.

Beckett eyed Courtney’s Superman T-shirt. She and Graham loved to tell the story of how they met on a blind date and fell for each other arguing over which was better: DC or Marvel. Beckett couldn’t even begin to tell the difference or understand why this would endear you to a person. But it clearly had and still did. Their children were even named after different superhero alter egos. At one time Beckett knew which ones, but he couldn’t remember anymore.

Graham pressed his lips to Courtney’s, holding the kiss a few seconds longer than he needed to. The kids shouted, “Ew!” and Beckett looked away. Courtney giggled as Graham pressed a final kiss to her cheek.

“Follow me, brother,” Graham said, heading down the hall to a quieter part of the house.

Graham’s office was down the hall across from the bedrooms and Beckett couldn’t help wondering why his brother didn’t work in here. It was clean and quiet. The desk and bookshelves were the only pieces of furniture besides the two chairs. Beckett sank into the one across the desk from his brother, already calmer.

“Why don’t you ever use this office?”

Graham smiled and leaned forward with his elbows on the desk. “I like being where all the action is. This room is too quiet.” He made a face.

Beckett couldn’t imagine trying to get any amount of work done, even in this office, where the chaos of the rest of the house still faintly made its way through the door. He also could still sense the clutter and mess from the rest of the house seeping into his subconscious, nagging like a hangnail. It was hard for him to even have this conversation with his brother while inside the house. He felt his muscles tensing and releasing in his back.

Graham must have sensed his tension because he sighed and his smile disappeared. “So, Dad finally told you.”

“That he’s giving the company to you? Yes.” Beckett’s voice seethed.

Graham met his eyes. “You know that I don’t want to be in this position, right? I have no desire to run VDKI. That’s your wheelhouse.”

---