RECKLESS DESIRES:THE ODEN LEGACY

As Amiriam pulled up to James's residence, she scowled and studied the unfamiliar car ahead. It was a gaudy, red BMW, but she couldn't put a model name to it for the life of her. Her favorite six-year-old squirmed in the back seat, reminding her. Looking in the rearview mirror, she mashed her SUV into park and focused on matters more urgent. Like preventing urine from dripping onto her leather seats.

"Do you need to go pee?" she asked James. She was his nanny for a couple of years, and it truly was the greatest job in the world. He had a sticky mop of dark, curly hair on his head, and two dimples that made him able to get away with murder. Most of the time, at least.

With a quick motion of his head, James unfastened his seat belt and scooted over toward the back passenger door as if his pants were afire.

That's what you get for not going while we were still at my sister's house, Amiriam had to think about saying, but she kept quiet. It made no difference how many times she instructed the boy to listen to her; if he didn't feel like it, he wouldn't. And reminding him of the fact that she was correct wouldn't do any good, either.

Sprinting to catch up with the boy, Amiriam searched for the keys that would open his front door as she gazed upon the strange car suspiciously.

James was the first to reach the front door and swung it open, making Amiriam put her hand, which contained keys, down to the side. If the door were open, then that would imply an older brother was home. Well, half-brother if they needed to get all technical. She didn't know much about enigmatic Luke Oden other than the fact that he and his little brother shared the same dimples-and the same disrespect for obeying the rules. The man had gotten under her skin at every meeting they'd ever had, and she'd learned to keep him at arm's length if she hoped to keep her sanity.

"Yay, me," she grumbled to herself and then entered the humongous foyer. White and black marble tiles comprised the floor, and fresh-burning bleach permeated the air so that James's house smelled more of sterile museum than home space.

Maybe AMA, the maid, had a new vehicle and bought it on sale because the douche Amiriam wouldn't deal with was out again man-whoring in the city.

Then she remembered the make of the car, and her shoulders sagged. It was a BMW. AMA could never pay for a BMW.

Dammit.

In search of the blessed cool air to soothe her cheeks, Amiriam discovered it to be as hot as Hades inside, and her brows furrowed in puzzlement.

What the hell?

James's parents were away, and it seemed that she got to have a handyman come to repair the AC unit.

Her ears perked up at the strange sound of rap music coming from deeper inside the house, startling her from the unusually warm accompanied in the foyer. Having heard it, she peeked into the dining room to find it empty before venturing farther toward the middle of the house. The family room was not occupied, nor was the kitchen. Curious, she inspected the study when James called her name over his shoulder and diverted her attention.

"Hey, Amiriam. What's that?" Dangling from his six-year-old fingers was a crimson, lacy bra, and her eyes were about to come out of their sockets.

Bending forward, she yanked the delicate stuff from him and then jammed it behind her back.

"Where in the world did you get that?" she snarled, the face growing flushed with embarrassment and anger.

"It was on the couch. Is that.?" Now his face was burning bright red.

Reaching into her rear pocket, she took out her phone and nearly shoved it into James's chest. "It's nothing. Here. Take this, stay in here, and play some games for a bit, okay? Don't go outside till I come and get you. Get it?"

The electronics-addicted kid didn't even let her finish before he opened her phone and dove into the first game his wee fingers happened to find.

Stuff that he would be busy for a couple of minutes, Amiriam strode towards the rap music like a woman on a mission while the dumb bra swung back and forth.

When girly giggles reached her ears-along with the stifling heat that seeped out of a crack in the back door-she gritted her teeth.

Swinging it open with more force than she probably should, she walked towards the hot tub frothing along the side of the house.

They didn't notice her at first. Clearly, the two people in the hot tub were both preoccupied. Nevertheless, that did not dissuade her from noticing their exposed position. Mr. Jerk was lounging in the hot tub and Ms. Lacy Bra was sitting on top of him-topless. His inked arms drifted up and down her spine at a slow pace as she left kisses down the curve of his neck. All she could do was keep her eyes from wandering or retreat inside before they noticed.

But yet, somehow, she found that she had enough guts to hang on and yell, "Hey, Jerk! Can we chat for a sec?"

The woman in his lap spun around in surprise before leaning her naked chest into Luke's.

Her high-pitched voice could have shattered glass when she shrieked, "Who the hell are you?"

"She's the nanny," replied Luke to her, his voice tinged with boredom before turning to Amiriam. "Is there a problem?"

Amiriam complained. "Yeah. I'd say so. Your little brother just found his first bra on the couch. Thanks for that, by the way. The back door was open, so all the cool air got out, and your house is a freaking sauna. The music is so loud I'm surprised the cops aren't at the front door breaking it down for disturbing the peace, and don't even get me started on the profanity blaring louder than a foghorn. Do you think it's appropriate for a six-year-old to be hearing this crap?" Waving her hand at the topless bimbo, she went on, "And don't even get me started about your houseguest. What if James had happened to see this? Do you have any decency whatsoever?"

She nodded to said bimbo. "And you! Do you have any self-respect at all? Do you know who this creep is? I'd wager twenty dollars right now that the guy doesn't even know your name. Yet, here you sit, straddling the guy and yelling like he's a freaking blessing' from the heavens. Get a break. Dress yourself up. And get the heck outta here before I force you."

Amiriam's breast was heaving by the time she'd finished her little oration to discover that Luke's lips were twisted into a sneer.

"Anything else, Nanny?" he sneered.

Teeth gritted, Amiriam took the bra and cinched it up into a ball and hurled it at his head. Bimbo shrieked as the lightweight material whizzed past her and hit the side of the hot tub before splashing into the water.

Luke's eyes turned dark as he uttered, "You missed."

"Next time, I won't."

Whirling on her heel, Amiriam ran inside, slamming the door behind her. Her blood was pounding as she leaned against the glass door and took a couple of deep breaths.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him, she told herself.

"Everything all right?" James asked, startling her.

"Yup," she gritted out. "Just peachy."

The water from the hot tub still hadn't completely dried in his hair as he smoothed it, holding the polished leather steering wheel in front of him. The GPS bellowed through the Bluetooth speaker, telling him to turn left.

"Thanks again today. I had fun," the blonde purred in the passenger seat.

Brushing her off, Luke readjusted his aviators to shield the scorching sun and activated his blinker. Ever since the nanny had burst in on them, he'd been...irked. Not enough to deny a second orgasm in the hot tub, no. But irked enough to send her packing minutes after they'd completed it.

He was an ass. So sue him.

With a quick glance to his right, his nostrils flared. The nanny hadn't been lying. He didn't know this girl's name. They'd met on an app with one intention. He'd asked her if she was DTF. She'd agreed. He'd picked her up. They'd done their thing. Now, he was driving her home.

Simple. Transactional. And numb. Though he'd never verbalize it.

"So...," the blonde began, twisting her hair into a ponytail. "We should do this again sometime."

When Luke didn't respond and her elastic was safely in place, she set her spotlessly polished, blood-red nails on his top thigh. The provocative touch implied another hook-up before leaving her off, and he thought about taking her up on it.

"What do you think? I mean, I don't know about you but-"

The screech of his phone cut her off. Looking at the screen on the center console, he almost growled.

"Who's Jackson Oden? Is he your father?"

Bending forward, Luke pressed the red button on the touch screen. A chilly quiet hung in the car, combining with the air conditioning as it swirled through the vents.

The girl wasn't smart enough to catch his cool demeanor and began to run her hand up to his crotch.

"Sorry, babe. Gonna happen again today." Luke grasped her wrist and set her hand in her own lap. Folding across her lower lip, she pouted like a bratty kid who was told that she couldn't have ice cream before folding her arms across her tight tits.

Siri's voice sounded through the speakers, advising him that he was approaching his destination on his right before being interrupted by his father's next call.

Turning over, Luke put the vehicle in park and leaned his chin at the girl, motioning for her to get out.

It hadn't disconcerted him when she had opened her own door with no thought at all, showing that she valued herself about the same as he valued her.

Her stiletto heels solidly planted now, she crawled underneath and slid her head through the car roof again before humming for the second time, "Text me."

"See you around, babe."

With a sultry grin, she closed the passenger door then strolled up the walkway as Luke pressed the bitching red button on the touch screen for the second time.

There was no point in playing dumb. His dad would keep calling until he picked up. But sometimes Luke couldn't resist fanning the flames. You know, the ones that had been smoldering like an inferno since the day he turned thirteen.

Then came another ten failed calls, and finally a text.

Jackson Oden: Answer your damn phone, or I sever your credit cards.

Luke's jaw muscles tightened as he read the words.

The screen erupted into life seconds later with another call, and he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. Several more tense seconds went by before he eased up and pushed the answer icon on the touch screen.

"Interesting," his dad said.

"And what's that?"

"Like father like son, boy. We'll do anything for money now, won't we?"

Luke's blood began to boil at the thought of becoming anything like his dad.

"Is there a reason you called?" he growled.

"Just calling to see if my oldest son has finally gotten his head out of his ass."

Dry laugh, headshake. "Nope. Like father like son, huh?"

"Ha-ha, real funny, Luke. I just talked to Amiriam on the phone. She said you're still loafing around the house?"

Of course, the nanny would report.

"Sure am."

"There a reason why? You usually disappear a day or two after coming home for a new credit card once yours wears out from overuse." The sarcasm in his father's voice annoyed Luke's nerves.

Luke let out a slow, deep breath through his mouth before he spoke. "You promised to finally send my inheritance instead of holding it over my head like you've done for the past five years?"

"Don't talk to me like that, Luke. Since your mother left, you've been a spoiled little brat, and I've had my fill of it. I did not promise to give you your inheritance. I promised to discuss how we can make it possible. Don't play with words, boy."

You have got to be kidding me.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Luke wished for patience.

"So, you're not going to deed away my inheritance?" He covered his incredulity with a voice of nonchalance.

"I have a few conditions before I give your money back. Though I will admit that it amuses me that I pay off your credit cards without interrogating you about any of it, but then you still keep on piling up the bill without batting an eyelash. Why not simply let me just sign it over to you when you spend everything I have anyway?"

"Come on, Bob. Sign off my inheritance as quickly as possible and be rid of me once and for all. No more endless bills for you to pay. They'll all be in my name at last."

"Don't call me Bob," Luke's father growled. "You know how much I hate that kind of disrespect. And they might be in your name today if you'd get your head out of your butt and work hard."

Luke chuckled. "And how exactly would I do that, Father? I'm your dumb son, remember? The only reason I graduated high school was that you bribed my teachers."

"You left me with no choice. You refused to go! And what if my oldest son never graduated from high school?"

"Why do you think I flunked all my classes to start with?" Luke had growled back at him with a self-congratulatory smile. He was no idiot. Not by a long shot. He'd just never put all that much effort into it, because it had always been easier this way. Let them down on the first try, instead of putting everything you've got into it only to fall short again.

His father's stern tone cut through his self-deprecating daydream. "You think you're punishing me by being a failure, but the only one you're hurting is yourself."

Luke stared out the windshield, his father's words ringing in his mind as he took in the city skyline. Any ordinary human would be at peace with a view like that. He wasn't. He hadn't been, really, for years.

"Do you ever plan to get me off your leash?" he prodded. "The only reason you haven't signed away my inheritance is because you like telling me when to jump and I have no option but to reply, 'How high?' So, how high, Daddy Dearest? What do you demand from me now?"

"You want to play hardball, Luke? You want your inheritance so damn badly you'll do anything to get it?"

A part of Luke died when he played his father's game. "Yes."

"Then find a wife. Find a purpose. And stop being a screwup."

And with that, the call went dead.

"Amiriam," James grumbled, stretching out her name. His eyes were screwed shut as she slathered sunscreen all over his dashing little face. He'd be quite the stud when he grew up. She was careful to cover his cheekbones and the tops of his ears so they could shield themselves from the brutal sun.

"No ifs, ands, or buts, mister," she answered, working the lotion in and inspecting her handiwork before smiling in contentment.

"Perfect. Do you remember the four-wheeler rules?"

Rolling his eyes, he started quoting them. "If I can't see you, you can't see me. Wear a helmet always. Don't go faster than you're comfortable. Don't break any bones. Don't tell Mom or Dad."

Laughing, Amiriam draped her arm across his neck and playfully noogied him before nudging him toward the equipment on her parents' property.

"And have fun!" she added before turning to her sister, Rita. "Where's Frank?"

"He's getting the oil changed on Taffy in the garage. He'll be out soon," Rita had said. Taffy was Rita's sport utility vehicle. She, and the rest of the Swenson girls, for that matter, had a peculiarity for naming inanimate things. There were three of them. The oldest sister Christiana, followed by Rita, the middle daughter, and then Amiriam, the family joke.

"Aww, look at him. I want one," Amiriam cooed.

Rita grinned. "He's nice."

"Does he have a brother? I mean, yeah, I asked earlier, but."

"Only child. Tough break, Amiriam. You'll have to go find yourself your own stud to change your oil, provide the cream de la crème of orgasms, and look after your kitties."

Rolling her eyes, Amiriam stated, "I mean, you could technically view the latter two the same, right?"

"You have multiple kitties?"

Rita responded with a wink on her face.

"Rita!" Amiriam shoved her sister's shoulder before plopping down on the red and black plaid blanket Rita had laid out a few minutes before.

Squatting low, Rita plopped down on her bottom next to Amiriam.

Amiriam rested her elbows on her folded knees and took in the small valley around her. Her parents had bought the property when she was a baby. It was home, and she loved all the memories that went with it. Going over to James, she watched as he swung his little six-year-old leg over the four-wheeler seat of a canary yellow baby 60cc motorcycle named Hercules. Her parents had bought it after James insisted he was too big to ride in as a passenger. The little butthead. He wished he could be as big, and it had only been worse since his stupid older brother came.

"You've been coming here a lot lately," Rita stated while watching James get the four-wheeler going.

Shrugging, Amiriam watched James in hopes of not being read like a book by her older sister.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with a certain older brother, would it?" Rita teased, her bright pink hair streaming back in the soft, warm breeze.

"We've been wanting to leave the house. That's all."

"Sure, it is."

With a scowling huff, Amiriam turned to her. "I caught him with some other stupid girl in the hot tub. This time she was topless, and you could tell that they were getting close to reaching the good stuff. Can you imagine that? What if James had found them? I mean, how can the moron be so irresponsible?"

Jaw to the floor and eyes wide with bulging, Rita craned forward like they were sharing secrets in grade school. "Seriously? Topless? Wooow," she drew out the word before uttering, "At least only one girl this time, though, right?"

Amiriam flinched. "Don't remind me. Although I suppose to be fair, I wasn't a hundred percent sure I'd spotted a threesome. They were all dressed so...".

"So, you're not really that innocent," Rita concluded for her.

"Okay. Even though I don't have any proof, it wouldn't shock me if he's that...seasoned. Ugh! He's so frustrating!"

Ruffled, Amiriam ran her fingers through the ends of her hair before securing it into a high ponytail as she monitored James. His identical yellow helmet gave him the appearance of a cute bobblehead as he tinkered up a little dirt mound.

"Discussing men...guess what I overheard?"

Rita diverted the topic when she saw how close Amiriam was to going out of her mind at hearing the name Luke and his various sexcapades.

"What'd you hear?" Amiriam asked with curiosity.

"Saylor's boy is in town."

It was Amiriam's turn now for her eyes to pop. "Saylor's boy, as in––"

"Yup. Talk about a blast from the past, huh?"

"What the devil is he doing here? He left, remember?" Amiriam's protective younger sister trait started to emerge as memories of her older sister in high school forced their way to the front. Tears. Heartbreak. Doors slamming shut. And ice cream. So much ice cream.

"Oh, I remember. Anthony and I met him at the hardware store when we were picking up some trash for the cattery."

Rita and Frank owned a cat haven for stray animals who had worn out their welcome at the neighborhood shelter. She was a saint, and he was her accomplice in her saintly mission.

In short, they were perfect for each other, and Amiriam went utterly bonkers with jealousy whenever she probed their relationship too deeply. Brushing it aside, she turned her attention to the matter at hand.

"Did you say anything to him? Perhaps pick up the closest hammer and whack him on the head with it?" Amiriam asked. Her voice was teasing, but she was only half-joking. That asshole had really messed Saylor up. She'd never really been the same. She hadn't even attempted dating after all this time since he'd left.

Smiling up at her, her lips curled in a smile, Rita said softly, "I thought about it. Until I saw the little boy holding his hand."

"No way!" Amiriam edged forward. This story was just getting richer and richer. "He has a kid?"

"Yeah."

"Does Say know?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I have no idea how to tell her."

The footsteps made both of their heads turn back towards the house behind them, silencing their conversation. Amiriam's heart was pounding like she'd been caught red-handed with her hand in the cookie jar until she saw Rita's other half approaching them in a pair of worn-out jeans and a tight black T-shirt that hugged his chest.

Amiriam had had a look at those muscles in the past and could atttest to their majesty. The guy was breathtaking.

"Don't know how to tell her what? And who's her?" Frank asked, squatting low behind Rita. Once his butt made contact with the ground, he wrapped his legs around her and pulled her into him so that her back was against his chest. That delicious, muscular chest.

Sigh.

"I was talking about the man we saw in the hardware store," Rita said.

He placed a kiss on the top of her head and said, "Oh. The blond guy with the kid who looks uncannily like a college football player who was destined for big things before his kneecap pretty much exploded on national TV?"

"That's him."

"What was his name again?"

Amiriam defended Rita. "Ossian Pete. AKA The Big O, as we liked to refer to him before he broke Saylor's heart."

Focusing on Amiriam with his arms still wrapped tightly around Rita's chest, he confirmed, "So it is really him? The infamous Ossian Pete who was being wooed by a number of NFL teams before his leg was damaged so severely that he had to say goodbye to his football days?"

"That's the one."

"I didn't know Saylor dated him.... Was it an awful break up?"

Amiriam gritted her teeth then spat, "The worst."

"Maybe he was just a passing fancy," Rita suggested hopefully.

Frank shook his head from side to side. "He was buying duplicate sets of a house key and some tomato plants. Those aren't the purchases of a man who is not remaining."

The photograph was enough to satisfy any hope they'd had that Mr. Ossian Pete would disappear before Saylor ever even knew he'd gone into hiding.

"Well, shit," Amiriam spat.

"Dear," Rita agreed.