Page 9 of Endgame

Even now, I wanted to reach forward and smack her silly. The only thing that stopped me from doing so was the tiny swell on her stomach she was proudly rubbing.

My mother was in love with all things love, but she wasn’t exactly a nurturer. She’d been more like an older sister to me growing up. When I reached the age of nine or ten, the roles reversed and I became the older sister. I was seventeen years old and exhausted from parenting a reckless mother.

Mom, an only child, originally from a small seaport town call Friday Harbor, got herself into a string of bad relationships during high school and ended up nursing me through her junior year until giving up her chance at a high school diploma to go in search of the city life.

Mercedes James; because that’s what you got when you let an immature sixteen-year-old name a baby after the place in which you were conceived.

I guess it could have been worse. I could have been called Tequila, her beverage of pleasure that night.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love my mother, I did,deeply. But we weren’t compatible, and I wasembarrassed. Everything she seemed to do irritated me and grated on my nerves, and I knew full well that if I didn’t get out of here soon, I would be the one left holding the baby.

I had nine more months in this house and then I could take off and never come back.

The university of Colorado had an impressive business program and generous scholarships, while, I had a 4.0 GPA and a will stronger than iron.

It was a perfect match.

CU was my first choice for college, but I was willing to learn anywhere in the world if it came to it.

Anywhere except Florida state.

Yeah, I needed out of this place and fast.

I needed the freedom I never had while shouldering my mother’s troubles.

I needed a fresh start.

Unintentionally, my gaze wandered into enemy territory and I had to steel myself when I found Rourke wasstillglowering at me.

Of course, I narrowed my eyes and glared back.

Back off, Rich Prick. This cat has claws!

Boys like this one never usually bothered me. I had enough pride to say no when they asked me for something I wasn’t willing to give, and enough confidence not to care about the backlash.

At the end of the day, when I left school, I left all of the shit behind me.

Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t leave this particular piece of brown crumb behind.

I had to live with him.

“Before we have dessert, I’d like to set some ground rules,” Gabe announced at the end of dinner, startling me from my reverie.

“Ground rules?” Rourke shot back flatly, staring at his father like he had grown three extra heads. “What. The. Actual. Fuck?”

So he speaks…

Dammit, I had been hoping my memory served me wrong and Rourke Owens sounded like a nasally adolescent.

Nope.

My memory of him had been perfectly accurate.

His voice was deep and gruff and he had that sexy southern drawl I secretly loved.

FML.

“Yes, some ground rules,” Gabe repeated, casting his son a warning glare. “And watch your mouth, son. We have ladies in the house.”

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