 
A Valentine Step

Copyright 2018 Gabriel Love

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About This Book:

Lea is having the worst Valentine's day ever.

Her boyfriend dumped her...

...for her best friend.

Her mother's getting remarried...

...to a jerk.

Her step brother is insanely hot...

...and an asshole.

Just when she asks if anything else can go wrong...

Her step brother kisses her. In front of their parents.

FML.

_A Valentine Step_ is a standalone novella of about thirty thousand words. No cliffhangers, lots of steam, some dirty language and a HEA.

A Valentine Step

Chapter One

Lea

"I'm sure he's cheating on me." I lift the fork to my lips as Jen stares at the waiter's ass.

"Why are the hot guys always so..." Jen shrugs. Then it's like my words register; she goes still and stares at me with horror in her eyes. "Wait, did you just say-"

I swallow the bite of greens, lamenting on the evils of Kale. I'm on Jen's side, all the things that look good are bad for us. Men. Food. Whatever.

"He's cheating. Were you even listening to me?" I shift in my seat as the waiter walks back over. His cologne washes over me, something nose-ticklingly strong and sharp.

"Anything else for you lovely ladies?" he asks, clasping his hands together.

"Spritz, not bathe, darling," Jen says, her brilliant smile lighting up.

I feel a stab of jealousy. If I said something so bitchy people would hate me. But she's got this smile that eases the sting of anything. It helps that she's drop dead gorgeous. Her sky blue eyes are so light around the pupil they're almost white. But there's a deep ring of dark blue around the edge of them that makes staring into them feel like drowning. She's got beautiful smooth skin and naturally sun streaked buttery blond hair. _Gorgeous_.

"Huh?" The waiter asks, his mouth dropping open. I watch, fascinated. It's almost like his brain registered the insult to how much cologne he's wearing, but her smile overrides the negative and turns it all into good feelings. "Of course. Dessert?"

He's got a grin now and his handsome face looks slightly dopey. Yep, I call that the Jen effect. The smartest guy turns into an idiot around her.

"Yes, please," Jen says, gracefully placing her elbows on the table. Rubbing her hands together, she glances at me. "Halfsies on the strawberry cheesecake?"

I nod, knowing she'll eat more than half. I don't know how this girl stays so slim. I eat less than she does and I've got a good twenty pounds on her. And she's a few inches taller than I am.

"Right away," The waiter says and hurries off.

"You gotta stop messing with people's heads like that," I tell her. "It's cruel."

She shrugs. "Evil is half the fun. Anyway, what makes you so sure?" She leans toward me, lowering her voice to a conspiring murmur, "I mean, did you go all _to catch a cheater_ on him and stalk him?"

The smell of her shampoo is strong, something bright and clean, reminiscent of mouthwatering grapefruit.

"Not really," I say, feeling annoyed. Since when do I need proof? Jen's always on my side. She's my best friend, if I say he's cheating isn't she supposed to rally up and offer to hunt him down and bring a shovel? I mean, not that we'd ever actually murder anyone. She just says over the top things like that sometimes. It's endearing.

The waiter sets the cheesecake in front of us with a flustered grin at Jen, who ignores him.

"Thank you," I say, but he doesn't even acknowledge I exist.

Rolling my eyes, I notice Jen is studying me intently. And I know she's waiting to hear why I think he's cheating.

"Night before last, he didn't come home," I say, the words bringing a flood of relief.

Her eyes widen and I hear her breathe my words. "He didn't come home..."

She takes a thoughtful bite of the cheesecake, scanning the room for something, or someone. Maybe looking for the waiter who must have Houdini'd that dessert in her mind.

But she does an unexpected one eighty while studying me intently. "Maybe he was at his parent's house. Did you ask him what he was up to?"

Really? She's defending him?

She glances at me and seems to see the disbelief in my eyes. Her hand covers mine, her soft fingers warm. "I'm not saying you're wrong, just that this is serious. Maybe you should talk to him."

She pulls her hand away and takes another bite of the cheesecake. "Besides," she says, shaving off a tiny curl of the cheesecake filling, "he's not a bad guy. Everybody makes mistakes. Maybe he made a mistake."

I snort. I can't help it. "Mistake? No, cheating is not an _oops_. It's not like dropping something, or slipping on ice. Those are mistakes. This is him trying to deceive me. This is him sneaking around behind my back and screwing some girl."

Her phone chimes and she picks it up. Her cheeks go a bit pale and she shoves the cheesecake across the table toward me. "Have some, it's amazing." She's quick to respond to the text and shoves her phone back in her purse.

I try a bite of the cheesecake. It's sweet and tart and wonderful, but when I'm stressing like this, everything seems dulled. I expected Jen of all people to understand. She's my best friend. She should be leading the charge, pitchfork and torch in hand.

Instead she's telling me to wait, be sure, and not jump the gun. It's good advice, but freaking weird coming from her. She's kind of the queen of overreaction.

Her phone chimes again and I notice she's turned down the volume. While she checks hers, I check mine. Nothing. But that's not surprising. Luke, my potentially cheating boyfriend, is at work so I won't get a text from him until later. I'm here with Jen. And I talked to both halves of my parental unit this morning, so neither of them have a reason to call; barring disaster.

With a sigh, I shove my phone deep in my pocket.

Taking another bite of the cheesecake, I notice the tiny up curve of her lips. Whoever she's talking to, they're saying all the right things. "You're getting some," I say and she jerks her head up to stare at me.

"What? No, um yeah, kind of." She seems flustered.

"Who's the guy?" I ask, grinning. No guy has gotten her so on edge in a long time. I'm a terrible friend. I'm so wrapped up in my own crap I didn't even notice something's up with her.

"Nobody." Her teeth slice her lower lip. She shoves her phone in her purse and folds her hands on the table. I push the cheesecake back toward her and she takes a bite. But her phone chimes again and she picks it up.

And I just have to know.

Grabbing it, I stand up and hold it away from her as she leaps to her feet, trying to stop me. My brain scrambles as I read the name on the screen.

"Why is Luke texting you?" I ask, staring at her in disbelief.

Her shoulders slump, but I look down to read the text. "I don't care if she finds out." Looking up at her in horror, I unlock her phone and scroll through the messages, disbelief running like ice water in my veins.

Before I can lose it and throw her phone, I shove it back in her hands. "You were talking to him about me. You were telling him I don't know about..." Words fail me and pain forms a hard, aching lump in my throat. I push past it as tears sting in my eyes. "You two."

Pain. All I feel is pain.

She looks like I've hit her. But I don't feel bad for her. Shaking my head, I turn to leave. "Wait," she says, but I'm out the door. There's nothing she can say to me. Nothing I want to hear from her.

On the sidewalk, I feel dizzy. Lightheaded. He's not only cheating on me, he's cheating with my _best friend_.

Walking toward home, I decide I'll get my car later. I'm in no condition to drive right now. A guy walking by slams into me and grabs my shoulders as if to keep me on my feet.

"Damn," he says in a thick British accent while looking down my shirt, "Nice tits."
Chapter Two

Wild

Her lip curls and she shoves me away.

It's a shock. Nobody ever pushes me away. No, women tend to try to get closer, no matter how disgusting the words I hurl at them are. Not what I expected from my first meeting with my soon to be step sister, Lea.

Yep, I'm stalking her.

But not for creep reasons. Or not really. I mean, I'm not trying to get naked pics of her without her permission. If she wanted to share those pics, though, I wouldn't say no. Or delete them. Now that I've seen her up close, I know she's absolutely fuckable.

My soon to be step sister seems to have no clue how her life is about to change.

I'd worried the whole lot of them were gold diggers, but now that I've met her, I'm seriously doubting it. I'll have to figure out what the hell dad sees in her mom for myself.

I turn and watch her ass in those amazing yoga pants as she stalks off. Nope. She's not a gold digger. Or she'd know me. Hell, I'm surprised she didn't anyway.

Her long fawn-colored hair hangs free to her ribs and I watch her move with appreciation. American girls are so delicious. And I can't get the thought of her light brown eyes out of my mind.

"Ayyy, Wild," A guy says, squinting at me as he walks by. Ignoring him, I pull the lapels of my jacket straight.

A pretty girl with blue white eyes stops at my elbow and stares up at me. And I recognize her right away. Jen. The girl with the pretty smile and ugly secrets. My soon to be step sister's best friend... who's also fucking her boyfriend.

Judging by the look on her face, the whole ugly business just aired in public.

"Walk with me," I say.

She automatically falls into step beside me as I begin to follow Lea.

"Me?" she asks, looking shocked.

"Yes," I say. And this one's supposed to be the one everybody wants? I don't see it. But _Lea_. What makes her tick? The moment dad told me he was getting remarried, I'd requested my private investigator find everything there is to know about them.

He'd been unable to find anything suspect. Nothing I could use to block this marriage. No history of anything untoward. Nothing disturbing or potentially business – or life – threatening. Just normal people living ordinary lives.

But _Lea_.

The first images I got of her just burrowed down deep in my bones. In one, she'd been staring at the camera lens with her lips lightly parted, her eyes wide and bright. The sexy, disheveled look women generally have first thing in the morning after a long night of hot sex. But she'd been running errands. Either she's ridiculously photogenic or my private eye has some amazing timing.

"I'm not sure why I'm here," Jen says.

Annoyed she's broken into my thoughts, I ignore her and focus back on Lea. She's off limits, but my dick and brain didn't seem to get the memo. Or they got it loud and clear and that only intensified everything. I'm not sure which. I can't even explain _what_ it is I feel, much less understand it.

"I know who you are," Jen says, breaking into my thoughts once more with the obvious observations. Most people know who I am. I'm not surprised she knows. "You own the string of clubs along this side of the state."

She's mostly right.

"I love Wild," she says.

I stop moving and turn to stare down at her. Her cheeks go bright red and she stammers.

"I mean, the club. Not... _you_." She looks up at me, her lips parting a little bit. Her tongue traces them and she glances at my lips.

Leaning in, I bring my lips right to her ear and speak in a low voice that seems to melt her. "Tell me _everything_."

We fall into step once more and she's quick to start talking. "My friend caught me with her cheating boyfriend. He was cheating on her with me."

I nod. I knew this.

"She's pissed. Ran out on me. She's my best friend and I hate myself."

"Best friends don't hurt each other like that. They don't fuck significant others. No," I glance down at her, "this is deeper than that. You're doing this for a reason. To hurt her?"

Her mouth drops open in shock.

"Don't lie to me," I say quickly.

"I, uh," she stammers.

And I'm bored again.

A slight smile tugs her lips, a seductive smile designed to tease. "Nothing like that. Maybe I haven't met the right guy is all." Her fingers close on my wrist and I feel a cold smile cross my lips.

"I feel you'd only want me if I was Lea's." It's a weak jab. Of course she'd want the money, the security she feels I can give her. But the pain in her eyes is a satisfying sensation for me. It's like vindicating Lea just a little bit.

"What's the name of this boyfriend, now?" I ask, though I know very well. It never hurts to double check information. And triple check. I won't make mistakes. Mistakes are messy and time consuming.

"Luke. Luke Davis," she says.

"Right, then. Perhaps stop fucking your best friend's boyfriend if you want any chance of fixing things, Miss. Anders?" I glance down at her as we walk.

Out of the corner of my eye I can still see Lea ahead. Her pace hasn't slowed one bit and her hips still show her anger.

"Um, right. Can I see you again?" she asks, as if sensing my patience with her has run out.

"Afraid not. You're not quite my type."

I see the insult in her eyes. She knows she's exactly my type in body and face. I'd fuck her.

But lately, fucking has gotten a bit boring. Maybe I'm ready to settle down, find a woman with a brain and loyalty. But I doubt it. I think it's more likely that I've seen the worst of this woman and that's a rather big turn off.

"Why are you so interested in Lea?" she asks. Her eyes and tone are suspicious.

"Have a good day, Miss. Anders." I take the opportunity to cross the street and keep an eye on Lea as Jen falls behind.
Chapter Three

Lea

"Mom, I don't think I'm up for it," I say in protest. At home, I'm pacing. Back and forth, back and forth like I'm trying to wear a path in the tawny carpet.

"It's important," mom says, "I've got to talk to you about something."

I hear the wavering note in her voice and latch on. "Mom," I ask, sitting down on the couch and tucking a leg up under me. "What do you need to talk to me about?" Last time she'd had that tone, I'd learned my parents were getting a divorce. News that devastated my then twelve year old self.

I'd been split between two worlds. And sure, having two of every holiday was awesome... except it reminded me how fractured my life was in every possible way. I hated every bit of it. Even now, my heart pounds in my chest as I remember how scared I'd been back then, how afraid I'd been as everything around me fell apart just when I needed it solid the most.

Tears sting in my eyes and I feel my throat film over with an ache that makes talking painful. "Mom, I need to know," I say through the pain.

"I'm getting married!" The words pop out of her like a shot.

"What?" How is it possible? She didn't even tell me she met someone!

She sighs on the other end of the line. "His name is Emmett Wilder."

Why does that name ring a bell?

"You didn't even tell me you met someone," I say, feeling betrayed. The hollow ache in my chest seems to be growing. Can this day get any worse?

"I'm sorry. He asked me not to for now. He'll explain everything tonight," Mom sounds hopeful.

It's my turn to sigh. How can I tell her no now? "Where and what time?" I ask.

When we finally hang up, I stretch out as best I can on my couch and stare up at the ceiling. My whole life is going belly up again and it's a sickening sensation. My stomach is twisted up in knots and I feel like I'm going to throw up kale salad and cheesecake.

Lifting my phone, I notice my hands are trembling. I pull up Luke's contact information and scroll through messages sent in happier times. All the _I love you'_ s and the _I miss you'_ s. Did he mean any of them?

But it's time to send him a message before I lose my nerve. _It's over_.

Putting my phone on my belly, I cover both my eyes with my hands. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to hurt because of him. The phone vibrates and I pick it up.

Luke sent a message that simply says, _We need to talk_.

_There's nothing to talk about_ , I shoot back. _Leave me alone_.

I stand up and walk into my room, tossing the phone on my bed as I dig through my closet. Finding my favorite ripped jeans and black tank top that's form fitting, I change quickly. Might as well be comfortable for this explanation on mom meeting a guy who told her not to tell me about him. Is there any way this can end that I'll be okay with?

Shaking my head no, I run my fingers through my hair.

Glancing in the full length mirror, I study my face. My best feature is my cheekbones. They're high and strong. But the rest of my face isn't quite on the same page. My chin is too small and pointed, and the heart shape of my face isn't quite pretty.

My eyes are dull and brown, and so is my hair. Is that why Luke went to Jen? Because she's prettier? Pressing my wrist to the ache in my chest, I push thoughts of them out of my mind. If I want any chance to survive the night, I need to focus on one betrayal at a time.

Adding a thin layer of gloss to my lips, I fix the corners and grab clean socks from my dresser. When I'm ready, I grab my purse and phone and lock the door behind me.

It's a long walk to the restaurant, but I don't mind the fresh air. Walking is a calming activity and I need all the help I can get right now. Taking out my phone, I text mom to let her know I'm here as I pull open the door.

At the door a well-dressed man curls his lip at me a little bit, then tries to disguise his expression. "Can I help you?" he asks.

"Wilder table?" I say, feeling uncomfortable. I guess there's a dress code here. Oops.

His eyebrows shoot up and his tune changes instantly. "Of course, you're Miss Lea?"

I nod and he walks me inside. The place is busy and people talk quietly amongst themselves. Women sport elegant dresses and men are in suits. And I know I stand out as people start to stare at me.

Pretending to be focused on my phone, I walk behind the waiter. A familiar perfume tickles my nose and I glance up to see Jen. Kissing Luke. Like, really kissing. Tongues, little noises, gross sloppiness, _kissing_.

My heart drops to my shoes as I hurry past like I didn't see them.

At the table, I try not to think about my ex boyfriend and my ex best friend sitting together.

I see mom and she leaps to her feet and pulls me into a hug. "I missed you," she says in my ear as she kisses me on the cheek.

"Maybe if you weren't in full Stockholm you'd see me more," I say.

Her horror shows in her face. "Lea Grace Staten!" She says.

"Sorry," I say. But I'm not sorry. I know I'm not acting like a twenty three year old woman, but this is stupid. We're adults, not children playing spy games and not telling each other things. And I swear I can feel Jen's and Luke's eyes boring holes in my back.

I need to make this quick. I need to get out of here.

I glance past my mother and thrust my hand at the man behind her who was sitting with her.

"Hi, Lea Staten, _the daughter_ ," I say pointedly.

He takes my hand, but I see him focus on something – or someone – behind me and every hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Oh, god, Luke is right behind me, isn't he?

I turn around, fully ready to tell Luke off.

But it's not Luke behind me.

I place him instantly. It's the jerk who'd slammed into me and told me I have nice tits. "This is your step brother, Trever," My new step dad says as my heart stops beating in my chest and all the blood drains out of my face.

Trever pulls me into a hug. I don't have time to react as he lowers his lips to mine.
Chapter Four

Wild

Her lips are cherry flavored and I feel her freeze in my arms. But it does nothing to ease the desperate need flowing through me. Damn it, it's like tasting the most amazing thing for the first time; I want more.

" _Trever,_ " Her mother says and I kick back into gear.

Releasing Lea, I turn to her mother and speak in a lowered voice. "Her best friend is over there with her boyfriend. He's cheating on her and she's dumped him, but she's still debating her friendship with Jen."

Her mother seems shocked and Lea has the grace to look ashamed. "I didn't tell you about Luke because it was, um, never that serious."

"You've been sleeping with him for a month, dating him for three." I say and her eyes narrow.

"How do you know that?"

"He's... good like that," Dad says. I nod, eyes locked on Lea. She's staring up at me suspiciously. "Nobody but he and I know I dumped him."

"Lucky guess," I say.

"So you're making them jealous by kissing her? That's not very nice," my soon to be step mother, Rosemary, says.

"Her ex will see she's kissing someone very much above his stature and will be less likely to make a scene." It's all so simple in my mind. Why doesn't she see it?

Lea's still staring up at me in shock.

She felt it too, then? That intense jolt as our lips touched? I could feel her heart pounding then and I feel it now. And I see it at the base of her throat. And her pupils are dilated. All sure signs she's _ready_ for me.

Interesting.

"Sit down," Dad says and I guide Lea in to her spot. Sitting beside her, I enjoy the frazzled confusion she's exuding. I rather like her being so off balance.

"Sorry I didn't tell you about the dress code," Rosemary says to Lea, who pulls her attention from me with obvious effort and shrugs at her mother.

Dad gives Lea a look that's strikingly close to revulsion. "Is that the problem, then?" he asks and I feel my blood begin to boil. He knows this family isn't on par with everything he's been brought up to enjoy? That I was raised with? He fell in love with Rosemary regardless, he better extend some kindness to her daughter.

Lea squirms. "Sorry," she says, her cheeks going red.

And while I like seeing her squirm, I don't like that she's embarrassed.

"Not the time," I say to dad, my threat vailed. I know he saw right through me and my explanation for kissing her. And now he's going to poke. Going to wear at me to see exactly what I'm feeling. He's a slippery bastard like that. He likes to be right.

"Of course," he says. All his attention focuses on Lea. "So, tell me about college."

Rosemary makes a little sound in her throat as the waiter stops by with food. Everyone is quiet as he sets plates before all of us. Only when he's gone does dad zero in on Lea again. He's quick to unfold his napkin and place it on his lap while watching her fumble with hers.

"I'm not... um, going to college," Lea says, staring at the plate in front of her like she can't quite meet his gaze. She's very much the child refusing to look at the disappointed parent.

He grunts, picks up his fork and pierces a bite of his lamb salad.

"Dare I ask why?" He pushes.

My fist clenches around my silverware and the sharp sound of the spoons and forks clattering together makes Lea glance over at me in shock. "Sorry," I say to her while glaring at dad. "Can we talk about something else?"

But Lea stumbles on. "I'm kind of feeling my way through life right now," she says, her heart in her eyes as she pushes food around her plate with her fork.

" _Feeling_?" Dad says, ignoring me completely.

"The fuck you doing?"

I only feel mild surprise as everyone focuses on something behind me. I hear Jen begging him not to do this, not to make a scene. All around us, conversations hush, but I feel totally at ease.

I stand up, patting my lips with my napkin, a small smile on my lips. I didn't think he'd do it. But I'm glad he did. He took the bait.

Turning around, I face the little bitch that was fucking around on Lea. "I'm sorry, is there a problem?" I ask.

His face shifts into mockery. "Yeah, you gay little cunt, why were you kissing my girlfriend?"

"Oh, is this your girlfriend?" I ask, putting an arm around Lea. The room gasps and I feel Lea stiffen. "I rather thought the woman you've been slobbering all over for the last hour was your girlfriend. My mistake."

Slipping out of my jacket, I roll up and button my sleeves as the collective hiss and buzz of whispers surrounds us. It doesn't bother me. Jen, however, looks around and sinks into a chair looking humiliated.

"Mr. Wild, erm, _Wilder_ , is there a problem here?" A waiter steps forward and I see several waiters and busboys behind him. Their biggest guys. They're anticipating a fight. The gesture, while appreciated, is unnecessary.

"Is there?" I ask Luke, giving him a way out. There's fear in him. I can smell it. He's sweating. Beads are forming on his forehead and his shirt is damp. He's nervous, which means he knows what he's getting into. He knows who I am and the acute danger he's getting himself into.

"Yes there is," he says, taking off his inexpensive suit jacket.

A cruel smile tugs at my lips. Excellent. "I need to step outside a moment," I say as an apology to my family. Lea is on her feet and beside me.

"What are you doing?" she asks as I walk toward the door.

"My job as your big brother."

"You're not my brother," She says. But the jab doesn't land.

I stop at the double door. "Then I'm doing it because I want to." Pressing a quick kiss to her lips, I revel in the evil sensations that follow. I'm sure what I'm feeling isn't only because she's off limits, but that does make it more fun.

Outside, I dodge Luke's right hook. Quickly pulling him into a headlock, I kick the back of his knee. He drops and I fold him right to the ground, holding him tightly.

"You fuck with her again," I say as he begins to claw at my arm. I'm holding him tight; he can't breathe right now. "I'll make sure you don't fuck anyone, ever again," I whisper.

He nods and I let him go.

Standing up straight, I straighten my shirt collar. Staring down at him, I wonder what his game plan was, exactly. Why did he push? False bravado? Perhaps he thinks the rumors about me are over exaggerated?

No, he's still got feelings for Lea. Why cheat on her then? What am I missing?

He's clutching his throat, glaring at me. Lea stands beside me, staring up at me in shock.

"Who _are_ you?" she asks, her eyes narrowing.

"Trever _Wild_ Wilder, at your service."

She glances down at my hand, up at my devilish grin, and turns to leave. And it hits me. She's perplexing. I can generally figure people out. This girl, though, she's shut me down and surprised me at every turn.

Interesting.
Chapter Five

Lea

I'm walking toward my mom's house, seething after that little fiasco.

I've never been so humiliated in my whole life. What the heck kind of person is my mother marrying? And his son, oh my god. He's insanely good looking, but what a snobby, know it all jerk!

Still, watching him drop Luke like that, like he was nothing, it was kind of thrilling. Luke wasn't in control for a few seconds. And I bet it was a good experience for him.

As I walk the back of my neck prickles and I rub a hand over the skin.

Why did I agree to come here? I should be at home, trying to figure out what the hell to do now that my life is a wreck. One conclusion; guys suck. I'm better off without them. I'm going to focus on making my life better. Maybe I'll look into trade school or something.

I've just always agonized over life choices. I don't love any one idea of a job over another. Nothing gets me all excited. I don't even have a hobby that I love enough to try to turn it into a permanent thing or job. So college has always been a rough idea for me. I don't want to go into debt for something I'll get bored of or downright hate before I even earn a degree for it.

With a sigh, I open the front door and mom pulls me into a hug. "How was your walk, dear?" She asks, and I shrug.

"Didn't fix anything." But I do feel a little bit better. I've got a plan. A difficult one, but a plan nonetheless. I walk inside and find Emmett sitting at the table, a newspaper in hand.

People still read physical newspapers?

"I'm sorry for Trever's actions," Emmett says, carefully folding the newspaper. "He's rather tempestuous and hot headed."

"It's fine," I mumble, inching toward the door. Mom grabs my arm, though, and gives a little shake of her head.

"You're not leaving. Sit down and talk to me."

The door closes and I glance over my shoulder. It's Trever. Of course it is. His incredible steel blue eyes are locked on me and his dark hair is shining blue black like it started to rain outside. His powerful cheekbones are damp and I notice the shadow of his stubble enhancing the square shape of his jaw. There's power to him, a quiet strength tucked behind an air of privilege.

I want to hate him and everything he stands for. A rich boy who always gets his way. Gets the woman. Gets the thing. Life just falls into place for pretty people; Jen's living proof of that. She's got an amazing job, _my boyfriend_ , and like Trever so astutely pointed out, I'm still considering being her friend.

"I don't want to talk, mom," I say, pulling out of her grasp.

Walking toward Trever, I see him straighten up and zero in on me. But there's a bit of uncertainty behind his incredible blue eyes. It surprises me. Grabbing his arm, I push him back out the door so we'll have some semblance of privacy.

"Didn't expect you to try to drag me home so quickly," he says. I stare up at him, wondering if he's joking or seriously thinks I want him so bad I have to jump his bones here and now on my mother's porch.

That... sounded wrong.

"You're disgusting," I say.

"Thank you." He seems pleased with the insult.

"Why did you kiss me, really?" I ask, wanting answers. I cross my arms and he glances down. I drop my arms quickly, but he's not looking away.

"I never pass up the opportunity to kiss a sexy woman," he says, his eyes finally meeting mine. "Especially one with such amazing tits." He steps forward and I back up a step into the house.

"What is wrong with you?" I demand.

His eyes sparkle a little bit as he advances another step. I jump back a bit.

"It was sweet of him to help with your ex," Mom says. "It was a good idea."

"No, he _convinced_ you it was a good idea. I'm going to be his _step sister_ , mom." I say, unable to believe what she's trying to say.

"Oh, it wasn't like that," Mom says, dismissing me completely as she walks into the kitchen, asking if anyone would like anything.

"It was like that," Trever mouths.

I shake my head at him and hurry to follow mom into the kitchen. "Does it matter what it was like, mom?" I ask, cornering her by the dishwasher. With a hand on the counter and one on the island, I block one escape route as she grabs a bottle of wine and a glass.

She pours a glass and I notice Trever standing quietly, watching us both very closely.

" _Mom_!" I say, angry that she's not _hearing_ me.

She turns. "Emmett is the best thing to happen to me in the last twenty years, Lea. The best thing since you. So if you could calm down and stop acting like a child, I'd appreciate it."

Stopped dead in my tracks, I feel the fight drain out of my spine. She takes a sip of her wine and her eyes meet mine, confirming everything she's said.

"I'm sorry," I say. I'm a terrible daughter. This is supposed to be the happiest time in my mom's life and I'm making it all about me. Walking around the island, I sit in one of the bar seats and stare at my hands, folded neatly on the granite counter before me.

I wonder if I should talk to her. Or leave her alone.

We stay in silence. She's sipping her wine, still frozen in place. Trever is standing near the door. And I'm sitting here feeling like the world is crushing down on my shoulders.

After a moment, I push off the stool. "Well, happy engagement, and um, talk to you tonight." Because I'll wind up calling her before bed. It's just a ritual. She calls me every morning, I call her at night.

I need to get home. And nurse my heart.

"We're not engaged yet," Mom says softly.

"I'm proposing tomorrow," Emmett says and I jolt, surprised by his sudden presence. "I wanted to meet you first."

Oh, god. Did I ruin everything for mom? Was this whole meeting proof that this family won't blend? My heart aches. I have to go home. I need out. "I'm sorry," I whisper at mom. Heading for the door, I can hardly see through my tears as I hurry toward home.
Chapter Six

Wild

She's driving me mad. The look of pure agony in her eyes last night, it's haunting. And now, today, she's facing knowledge of her mother's upcoming engagement, her best friend's betrayal, and her boyfriend's unfaithfulness.

Her day has got to be going terribly.

I pick up my phone and send a few texts. I've got an idea. One that will either make her really, really mad, or really, really _mine_.

***

"I wanted to apologize," I tell her. I'm parked beside her as she's walking toward her cozy little place.

"Okay, you're sorry," she says. I recognize the dismissal, but I don't accept it. I keep moving as she walks on. Despite the light rain this morning, she's not using an umbrella. She either likes the rain or was caught unaware. Unaware, I think, she's not using a weather app on her phone. Maybe that was something he did that she hasn't gotten back into the habit of doing now that he's gone.

"Please get in the car," I say, but she shakes her head again.

This woman is so contrary. Parking my car, I get out and hurry to follow her. She glances over her shoulder at me. "Are you going to follow me now?" she asks.

"Yes, until you're ready to follow me," I say, falling into step beside her.

She pulls out her phone. "I could just call the cops on you," she says.

"Worth the risk," I say, tucking my hands into my pockets. There's a bitter chill in the air even though the sun is shining down on us.

She seems taken aback. Her silence is surprising, since she always seems on her toes and ready to pop back at everything I say. She stops and turns to face me. Face to face, I watch her bring her hand up to shade her honey-colored eyes from the sun. There's a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her pert little nose.

"What do you really want?" she demands.

"I told you, I wanted to apologize."

"Okay, so you're sorry. What else?" She seems impatient, but I sense the dance in her feet isn't because she has anywhere to be. No, I think I make her nervous. Which is good to know. Because she gets me the closest to nervous I think I've ever been.

"You misunderstand," I tell her, "I want to show it, not just say it."

"Oh," she says, nibbling on her lower lip. She seems to be struggling with herself before she finally nods my direction. "Fine. Because mom seems really happy and I want to keep the peace. I'll go."

I stop on the sidewalk and turn to look down at her. "Not good enough," I say.

She faces me, her head tilted back to look up at me. She really is a petite little thing.

"What do you mean _not good enough_?" she asks, her eyes narrowing.

"I want you to come with me because you want to," I say.

She gives a tiny nod. "Fine. I want to go with you."

"Why?" I ask, interested in her answer.

She seems surprised I asked. "I'm curious what you're going to do," she says and it's like looking in a mirror. She doesn't understand me. I don't understand her. Fascinating.

We start walking toward my car and I thank my lucky stars I had a few favors to call in. I can only hope my shots in the dark were accurate. I admit some pandering. But I put more thought into this than any that have come before her, so perhaps that means something.

Twenty minutes later, her hand is in mine and she's squeezing.

"I've never been in a helicopter," she says.

But she seems fine, excited even, on the flight. When we touch down, she seems surprised. "The beach?" she asks as we set down at the coast guard's pad, "I haven't been here in ages!"

Which is a shame, really. It's only an hour and a half drive.

I thank the guys and we head out. We're instantly led away and I feel her staring up at me as the coast guard march us toward the lighthouse.

Four hundred and twenty nine steps later, we're at the top of the lighthouse, alone.

"How did you...?" she asks me.

I gesture toward the little table. "A friend owed me a favor. I collected."

On the table is an assortment of fruit and cheeses and several bottles of wine to pair. I open a bottle of wine and pour her a glass. Pouring one for myself, I glance out over the ocean.

"I never knew you could come up here," She says, her voice a breath of wonder as she steps forward and stares out over the water.

"You can't," I say. The lighthouse is closed to the general public. I'd done a favor, though, for the Captain and he owed me one.

"This feels suspiciously like a date," she says, she skirt swirling a little as she turns to face me.

The cute little sun dress she's wearing has red lips and hearts on it, and I wonder why she chose that particular outfit. It's obviously a Valentine dress. It's new, I can still see a bit of the plastic where the tag had been attached. Is this an effort to seduce? It's working, if yes. Then again, Lea never seems to be obvious. Perhaps she's wearing this dress for herself. Because she feels pretty in it and needs to feel pretty after that ugly business with her ex.

"Perhaps. How about a game, Lea?" I say.

Her eyes narrow. "What kind of game?"

"A guessing game."

"You're trying to get my clothes off, aren't you?" She asks, arching an eyebrow at me.

"I wasn't. However, now that's part of the plan. I ask a question, you ask a question." I take a sip of my wine as she stares down into hers. "No avoiding questions. You're about to be part of my business and that's difficult for me."

"You mean family, not business," she says softly.

I shake my head. "No, my business."

She lifts her head and I step close to her.

My fingers graze her chin and she stares up at me. "Everything and everyone in my life affects business," I say.

"Okay. Why did you really kiss me?" She asks.

"Off with something," I say, fingering the sleeve of her sundress.

She rolls her eyes and slips off a shoe.

"Because I wanted to kiss you. You wanted it," I say.

"Was that a question?" she asks, giving me a sly smile.

I shake my head. I know the answer. I was merely stating a fact. "Remove something," I say, since she asked another question.

She shakes her head. "Doesn't count, I was asking for clarification."

"I'll let this one slide. Don't make that mistake again."

"Why do you want me so much?" She asks, and I'm shaken by her perceptive question. "Because you can't have me?"

Remove two things," I say and she sighs.

Slipping off her other shoe she makes a face at me as I shake my head at her.

"Not good enough," I say.

"You haven't removed anything," she says in protest.

"I haven't asked any questions," I tell her.

She sets her wine glass down on the ledge. "This is silly. Why don't we just talk like adults?" she sits down at the table, tucking her shoeless feet under her. "I'll even let you off the hook for the last two."

I sit beside her. "This is supposed to be a date, but you're quite unlike my usual partners."

I see her expression shift as she interprets my compliment as an insult. And I instantly diffuse the situation. "I don't usually talk with dates. We generally get to the other parts rather quickly."

Her expression shows her distaste. " _Charming_ ," she says in a flat voice.

"I'll never be dishonest with you, Lea," I say.

Her whole body stiffens. I've hit a nerve. Of course, she's just broken up with someone who's been dishonest. That might feel like a jab.

"It's a compliment," I say, leaning in close to her. Tucking a tawny lock of hair behind her ear, I study her soft brown eyes. "You don't want to be like the others."
Chapter Seven

Lea

Spending an entire day with Trever Wilder hasn't helped me understand him anymore. Sure, he's a snob, but he's also totally different than any guy I've ever spent time with.

"I'm not sure what to do with you, Lea," he says, finishing his glass of wine. His blue eyes are locked on me and I feel my cheeks sting.

"Well, you should be brotherly," I say. It's the truth. Maybe it's not what I want, but it's what I have to do. What _we_ have to do.

He takes a breath. "Well, see, that's going to be a problem."

I feel the heat of him as he leans toward me. We're so close now I can feel his breath on my lips. "You make me feel anything but brotherly," he says softly.

Then his lips are on mine.

His hand comes up and finds my shoulder. I'm not sure if he's pulling me closer, pushing me away, or keeping me in place.

Frozen, I feel his tongue press to my lips, seeking entrance. His hands drop to my hips and he pulls me into his lap. My lips part for him and he kisses me deeply. Every cell in my body is begging for more, but my brain is talking too loud.

Reminding me he's my step brother.

Reminding me that this can't happen.

But my body seems to be forgetting that fact. Giving in, I kiss him back and our tongues battle. As if all he needed was my cooperation, he picks me up and places me on the table. I feel faint with excitement and my heart begins to thump painfully.

His hands haul the front of my dress down around my waist. Cool air and the thrill of how rough he's being makes me moan in pleasure. His lips leave mine to suckle deeply at one nipple, then the other as I toss my head back in shock at the sensations.

His lips meet mine again, hungry, desperate and in control. I surrender to him, loving the _need_ I feel in his motions, his kiss.

Grabbing his shirt, I pull it up, hating the moment he pulls away to yank it over his head. Under his clothes, he's got lean strong lines. It's the body of a runner and so fucking sexy. His lips find mine again and the kiss is savage.

My heart pounds so hard it feels like it's trying to hammer right out of my chest. His tongue meets mine and dances as I whimper into his mouth. The air is cold on my damp nipples, so I bring my hands up to touch his face and press my arms to the sides of my breasts.

"Sexy bitch," he growls.

The words startle me and the hum in my core intensifies. His hands drop to the skirt of my dress and he hauls it up. He gives a delightful growl as he realizes I'm not wearing any underwear.

"Naughty girl," he growls in my ear.

I shiver, goose bumps racing down my arms and across my chest. My loose hair tickles my ribs as he kisses me harder and we lean back a bit. His fingers find the bundle of nerves at the center of me and he begins a long stroking motion that's incredible.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees and I cry out as his lips touch me. Pressing both palms to the table, I brace myself as his lips and tongue tease my clit. Here, in this lighthouse that nobody is allowed in, he's kissing my intimately, deeply, and it's so damned sexy I can't see straight.

His tongue works circles around my clit and I whimper. Looking down at him, I see his eyes meet mine and I'm trapped in the depths of his hungry gaze. My head falls back as the pleasure overwhelms me. His hands grip my hips as if to keep me from escaping, but running away is the last thing on my mind.

I cry out as he pulls me into him better. Suddenly, his tongue is working hard on my clit and my stomach is tensing up. Every stroke sends my heart slamming harder, my breathing becomes more erratic, little white dots are dancing before my eyes.

I'm teetering on the edge.

One of his hands leaves my hip and I feel his fingers press into me. Then he's touching a spot that sends me into a tailspin. It's over.

I cry out as the first spasm rocks my body. Ripple by ripple, they spread out and bring warmth and relief with them. Biting down on my lip to keep quiet, I let the spasms overtake me and relax back onto the table.

He stands and I'm suddenly desperate for more. Wiggling down a little, I grab the front of his pants. I unbutton them as he pulls a little foil pouch out of his pocket.

"Good thinking," I say, grabbing it from him.

He grins wickedly and unzips his pants.

"Hurry up," I urge.

"So impatient," he growls.

I tear open the foil ouch and grab him. The second my fingers close around him, his eyes close and his jaw clenches. "Fuck, Lea."

"Yeah, that's what I had in mind," I say, wrapping my legs around his hips.

He presses into me and I moan, a sound that's low in my belly that I have no control over. He's blazing hot and I can feel my body stretching around him. It's incredible. When he finally comes to a full stop, I glance up at him.

"I'm not sure I can go slow," he whispers, kissing my shoulder.

"I don't want slow," I whisper. I had mine. I'm going for his now, because oh, my gosh, I want to _feel_ it.

With a growl, he pulls out of me. There's nothing sweet in the rhythm he picks up. It's a punishing pace. With every thrust home, my breasts bounce. His hand leaves my hips to grab a handful of breast.

"Fucking beautiful tits," he says, the pad of his thumb teasing over the point of my nipple.

"So you've said," I gasp.

He pulls back and slams into me again. The sensation of being empty and then filled so roughly feels like it's driving me right toward orgasm again. But this isn't a position that gets me off. I don't think.

As he pushes home again, I focus on the feeling and realize I am getting closer. Oh, god.

"You're so fucking sexy," he grinds out, his cheek working as he grits his teeth. I feel him growing within me and my body reacts by tightening around him again. He groans his pleasure and I feel everything implode in a ripple of pure pleasure.

The world goes white and I hear myself cry out. "Good girl," he murmurs, his thumb teasing my nipple once more as my belly spasms. The fluttering deep within me eases up and I can breathe again as he shudders.

He gathers me close and his lips meet mine as he begins to slow. Tangled up in his arms, I breathe a sigh of relief.

When he stops moving entirely, I feel every last reserve of energy drain right out of my being and I'm more relaxed than I've ever been.
Chapter Eight

Wild

I glance down at her. She's sleeping so peacefully. There's such an air of innocence about her I feel bad for fucking her like I did. But then again, she really seemed to enjoy it. Fuck, I'm hard again just thinking about it.

She blew my damn mind. The sex was incredible.

I press a kiss to her temple. She stirs a little bit, then bolts upright. There's horror in her expression, a stunned acceptance of what we'd done. And when she sees I'm fully dressed, she looks hurt, confused, then her expression goes flat.

She pulls on her dress really quickly as I offer words to diffuse the situation. "Good morning, love. How are you feeling?"

"Don't talk to me," she says, turning her back to me as she pulls her dress back on. "It was a mistake. All of it. I need to go home." Her fingers comb through her hair like she can tame the pretty mass.

"Not the reaction I'm used to," I observe, but she snorts.

"Well, I'm not the girl you're used to. God, I can't believe I fell for that line." She sounds disappointed in herself and I fight back a flash of anger.

"It wasn't a line."

She turns to face me. "Oh, right, you'd never be dishonest with me, right? So instead of _Hey, you're going to be my step sister, I've been following you for months and learning all your secrets_ , your first words to me were _nice tits_."

I understand what she's saying, but her argument is fatally flawed. "I didn't lie. You have amazing tits. But I believe you're angry over more than just my first words to you."

"Oh, you think?" She asks, stalking over to me. She stands before me, a little ball of fire and fury and totally sexy. "Let me tell you, Mr. _I know more than you peasants_ , I am mad. At _myself_. Not you. I knew you were a slimy bastard." Her shoulders slump a little in defeat. "I'm mad I fell for your bullshit and wound up in bed with you. I'm an idiot."

With that she storms out of the room and I follow her.

"What is your plan?" I ask her.

She stops on the stairwell and glares up at me. "My plan is to tell you to take me home right now."

I study her carefully before speaking. "I'm a rather tolerant man, but I won't take orders from you or anyone else."

"Are you refusing to take me home?" she asks, an incredulous look on her face.

"Not at all," I say tightly. "I'm warning you I don't take orders from you or anyone else."

She looks away from me, a sigh leaving her looking more slumped and defeated than before. "Fine. Please take me home," she says, refusing to meet my stare.

Despite the anger in her, I see how she mirrors my body language, how she's leaning in closer to me, the damp scent of her that tells me if she was wearing panties right now, they'd be wet. The subtle sexiness of her is more intoxicating than any seductive come on from any woman I've ever met.

"Of course," I say, offering her my arm.

She glares up at me like there's nothing she'd like less than to touch me again. What a pity. I'll have to get her past that feeling. Because now that I've had a taste of her, I'm addicted. I have to have more.

Arching an eyebrow at her, I speak in a calm, measured tone. "Appearances, love. We're soon to be step brother and step sister, right? Let's give a nice show to whomever might be watching."

All the color drains from her cheeks and she seems to consider my words. Then, without a word, she places her hand on my arm as we continue our walk down the stairs.

Of course, no one is watching. I picked this place in part for the privacy I was assured. But she doesn't know that. I'll find out what makes her tick, one way or another.

Even now, while I'm hungry for her body again, I'm equally fascinated by her.

It's a short trip to the helipad. Once there, we both get into my car.

She's quiet on the drive, refusing to even look over at me. I let her have her silence, though thoughts are hurtling a million miles per second through my mind. She seems to hesitate as she opens the door, her body turned partially toward me like she's going to say something. But she decides against it and gets out of the car.

Closing the door behind her, she stalks toward her front door without a backward glance at me.

I drive off, but not very far. My gut says I need to observe. So I'm going to wait. Going to see what she does next. Because that'll likely shed some light on what's going through her mind.

I don't have to wait long.

Twenty minutes later, she's locking up the door of her home looking freshly showered and wearing clean jeans and a tee shirt. Casual. Seems to be her usual. I rather like it. It's a fresh change from all the snobbery and decadence I'm used to. Not that I'd trade in my labels for anything casual.

She turns to walk and I wonder why, a woman with a car, still seems to favor walking. It tells me that she likes to be active. Or when things are on her mind, perhaps, walking helps her think it out.

Admiring her ass, I think about how incredible it felt to be inside her. And my cock pulses at the mere memory. Instead of bored as I usually am after a romp with a woman, I'm more interested than ever in this one.

She turns a corner and I keep enough distance between us to not catch her attention. But as she turns another corner and hurries to cross a busy street while the walk light is green, I know exactly where she's going. And I feel a stab of jealousy. And anger.

Why is she going to her ex's house?
Chapter Nine

Lea

My whole life is a mess right now. Everything. I was a jerk to Trever and I feel bad for my outbursts. Maybe lashing out at the other people I'm mad at will help.

I don't actually think Trever used a line to get me into bed. I don't think he lied to me at all. I'm just a jerk who's going through a rough patch. I don't know how else to push him away. What he'd done, the date, the sex, it was all amazing. That's freaking terrifying right now. The last guy in my life did the worst possible things to me. I'm not ready to be with another, no matter how amazing he is.

Of course, Trever is off limits anyway. So I couldn't be with him it I wanted. _Ugh._ Life is frustrating!

Covering my eyes with both hands, I stop in front of Luke's place. I can do this. I can do anything. Clearly I'm invincible.

Obviously, Luke didn't get the whole _It's over_ thing from my text the other night. Otherwise he wouldn't have freaked out on Trever like he did at the restaurant. He wouldn't have called me his girlfriend with Jen right behind him, begging him not to make a scene.

My life is like a damn Jerry Springer episode.

My boyfriend is sleeping with my best friend.

My best friend lied to me about it.

My boyfriend tried to fight for me after shoving his tongue down my best friend's throat.

My step brother kissed me to provoke my ex. Then fought him. Then slept with me.

That's a Jerry Springer episode right there.

At his front door, I grab the spare key from its clichéd hiding spot on the top of the door frame. A thought tickles the back of my mind. Why did he try to fight for me? What did he have to gain? It's not like he'd prove he loved me after what he and Jen had been doing.

What was the end plan?

I close the door and lock it behind me. The kitchen is a bit more of a mess than usual and I feel a stab of satisfaction that clearly he's having it rough without me to clean up for him. He works so obsessively that he seems to not even notice when things get messy. I'd always cleaned up because I prefer a tidy house. And he'd thanked me. Every time. Without fail.

He's not all bad. There were things about him I liked very much. But is any of that worth the betrayal? Is there anything he could say or do that might convince me to work things out?

I can't think of anything.

And that's an important thought. The betrayal needs to be my focus. Not the good times. Because if he cheated once, if I take him back, what's to stop him from doing it again? And even if he never cheated on me again, could I ever trust him? Could I ever stop suspecting every time he told me he had to work late, or that he had plans to play golf with his buddies, could I ever look at him and trust that he was doing what he said? Or would I forever think he was going to go cheat?

With all these thoughts in mind, I place my hand on the smooth banister and walk up the stairs toward his bedroom. The house is quiet, but I hear the murmur of the TV in his bedroom. It's tuned in to the weather. And it reminds me I need to remember to put that profane – though funny – weather app back on my phone. Being caught in the rain is annoying. And I doubt Luke's amusing weather texts are a thing of the past.

At the top of the stairs, I walk toward his room, feeling all the memories of the last few months flooding back.

And an errant thought creeps into the back of my mind. Trever had said I've been sleeping with Luke for a month, dating him for three.

He's wrong. I haven't slept with Luke yet. Well, not sex. I slept in his bed, but I'd never quite been able to make the leap. And he'd been patient. Less patient than I thought, obviously, since he'd just been getting it elsewhere.

Still, it strikes me as odd that Trever got it wrong. He seems like the type to never get things wrong.

Pushing open Trever's bedroom door, I realize he's not alone.

On top of him, sheet pulled around her hips and coving her ass, is Jen. Their moans are hardly louder than the TV and I stare a moment in horror at her naked back, unable to turn around, back away, close the door or even _blink_.

"Lea?" Luke sounds shocked.

Jen turns, her pretty face shocked as she glances over her bare shoulder at me. And finally I can move. Pulling the door closed behind me, I rush down the stairs toward the front door.

Escape is the only thought in my mind.

But when I get to the bottom of the stairs, I hear the door above crash open and Luke yells my name again. There's a note of desperation in his voice.

But I'm running for the front door. Freedom is so close.

I bounce off the locked front door. And fumble at the lock with shaking hands.

Luke's hand presses against the door and I turn to face him. He's imposing, towering over me, wearing only jeans that are slightly askew on his hips. He's breathing hard, and there's a fine layer of sweat covering his naked chest. The scent of him makes my stomach churn and bitter bile backs up my throat. He smells like his signature cologne, sex, and Jen's sweet perfume.

His head is lowered and he's staring at the floor like he can't quite bring himself to look at me.

"Lea," he says in a low voice that sends a chill down my spine. "We need to talk."

I shake my head. "There's nothing to talk about. I don't ever want to hear from you or see you again."

I see Jen step off the last stair and lean on the railing, wearing one of his button down shirts and nothing else. Her face is twisted up in pain and sorrow. "I'm sorry," she mouths, but I refuse to look her in the eyes.

"Too bad," he says, leaning in so close I feel his breath on my face. Shrinking back, I press as tightly to the door as I can to get as far from him as possible.

"Leave me alone," I say, looking up at him.

"Or what? You'll have that rich British bastard teach me a lesson?" he asks, a snarl on his lips.

"Your mother would be so proud of you, I say.

His eyes register shock, pain, and finally anger. "Don't you bring her into it," he says.

"Then don't force me to," I say, looking up at him from under my lashes. He seems to reconsider, then backs off. I open the door as I hear Jen hiss at him, asking him why he's trying to get me to stay. Why he's trying to talk to me.

"You said it was over," she says, a furious note in her voice.

I close the door behind me, leaving them to fight over whatever his reasons are. I feel bad for her. Because like I said, once a cheater, always a cheater. He'll cheat on her, too. I wouldn't wish that pain on an enemy, much less someone I called friend for the last five years.

Guys are jerks.

Even really handsome British ones.
Chapter Ten

Wild

The liquor store not far from Luke's place lets me have a wonderful view of his front door while I wait for Lea to emerge. The selection is terrible, cheap and otherwise disgusting. I have no idea how the place passes even a simple building code inspection, considering the mold growth, the scent of rot and vomit in the air, and the clearly foundering foundation.

But the clientele clearly doesn't care.

A skinny woman with sunken cheeks eyeballs me as I pick up a bottle of wine. "You lost?" she asks.

"Do I look like the kind of person to get lost?" I ask her in a tone as bored as I feel while reading the label of the wine I'd found. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the front door of Luke's pace through the large front windows of the shop.

The woman merely grunts at me, her tiny brain unable to process a response and string together the appropriate words. I'd blame drugs if she didn't just remind me of the specimens of the population I meet on a daily basis.

Bottle in hand, I walk up to the front counter. Handing over cash, I notice a display of some disgusting cinnamon whiskey. Why not? Adding a bottle of that to the counter, I wait for him to punch in the new total and take both bottles off the counter.

The clerk calls after me in a shocked voice. "Your change?"

"Keep it," I say as the front door of Luke's finally opens. Why was she in there so long? The bell chimes as I leave and I hear the guy behind the counter telling me to come again. Not a chance in hell.

Lea looks pissed. The set of her shoulders is all fire and fight.

No Luke chasing her out the door. Which means Jen was there and he's busy putting out fires. But Lea looks furious. It's in every step as she moves toward home.

Part of me considers pulling up to her and offering to be a sympathetic ear. But I have a feeling I wouldn't be well received right now. The walk home will cool her down, if I'm right. If not, well, I'll be facing down a mad woman who's got more than enough good reasons to have a grudge against me.

My phone chimes, but I ignore it. I've put more time and effort into Lea in the last week than I have work. It's an odd change of pace for me to step down from running everything to go off on this little hiatus to hunt down everything there is to know about this woman.

I've never been so invested in another person. It's odd, yet it feels like the right thing to do. At first, of course, to protect myself. But somewhere along the way, Little Miss Lea Staten managed to grab me in a stranglehold I'm unsure how to get free of.

I park as she storms into her front door. A chilly wind tries to cut through me and brings the sharp scent of rain. I hear her door slam behind her as I button the top button of my jacket and grab the bottles of liquor before following her.

Knocking at the door, I fully expect her not to answer.

But the door swings open. Her honey colored eyes are red rimmed and watery. Her nose is a bit red, but she seems in control of her emotions as she stares at me.

Lifting both bottles of liquor, I speak in a matter of fact voice. "Breaking someone's power over you needs to be celebrated. That cunt won't hurt you again."

She steps back and tries to swing the door closed. Shoving the shittier bottle of liquor in the gap between the door and frame, I stop it from closing. It bounces off the bottle and swings wide open.

"I won't stop," I tell her and her eyes lock on mine.

She seems to understand and her chin lifts a few inches in a sure sign she's ready to do battle.

"Fine," she says, opening the door wider for me. "Lock it behind you," she says, heading into the house. I close it and lock it.

When I turn around, I catch a glimpse of her disappearing around a corner, shirt dangling from her fingertips. With a groan, I follow.

"Don't get any ideas," she says from her bedroom as I round the corner. The door swings closed on me, but I push it open and admire the rounded swell of the exposed side of her breasts as she pulls a shirt out of the drawer and tugs it over her head. Without a bra.

Fucking tease.

"You'd have had better luck with taco bell," She says, giving me a haughty glance as her thumbs tuck into the waistband of her jeans and she rocks her hips to remove them.

"Dully noted. Want me to run for some now?" I ask, loving the curve of her naked ass as she pulls on some comfortable looking soft sleeping pants. The faded stripes on them are light green, blue, dark pink, and pastel yellow. She looks utterly adorable.

"No," she says, closing the dresser drawer and tossing her clothes into an open hamper. A lacy red thong hangs over the edge of the hamper like a cartoon tongue and startles me.

So she does wear underwear, just not often. Perhaps she only does if there's a reason. If she's planning to show them off. Which means yesterday her choice to not wear any wasn't what I thought. I'd assumed she was planning on showing me she was wearing nothing under, that it was part of her seduction.

Now I think it was the norm, while sexy panties are reserved for when she's planning to get naked.

So who was she wearing that one in the hamper for? Obviously, since the hamper is near empty, she does laundry often, meaning that thong was worn recently. Who was she planning on getting naked for? My blood begins to boil.

Groaning internally, I find she's managed to throw me again. How does this girl go against everything I think I know? Why is my every assumption wrong? It's frustrating.

"What?" she asks, looking over her shoulder.

"Care for a drink?" I ask, turning to walk into the kitchen in search of glasses for our drinks.

She follows me, but stays silent for a moment. Then she nods and grabs a couple wine glasses and glass tumblers.

"Sure, why not?" she says. "We need to talk, maybe liquor will help."
Chapter Eleven

Lea

He pours a few inches of amber colored liquor into a tumbler, then lifts it to his nose with a curious expression. He jerks his head back and offers me the glass as he pours another.

I tilt it back and drink it all in a long gulp before the sting can hit me. I don't drink much. After a socially disastrous twenty first birthday - of which I remember very little - I'm just not interested. I've drank more with him in the last two days than I have in the last three years.

Pressing the back of my hand to my mouth as if it can stop the burn, I blink back tears.

"That's awful," I say.

He drinks his without any expression. "The corner liquor store doesn't cater to the elite palette."

"What corner?" I ask, a cold feeling settling into the pit of my stomach.

He pours more liquor in his glass, then mine. His eyes are focused on the liquid he's pouring, but as he speaks, he glances up at me. "The one at the corner of Main and Second Street."

"You were following me," I say, my suspicion validated.

But he doesn't even attempt to deny it. "I was," he says. He hesitates a moment, then drinks down his cinnamon whiskey. "You're surprised," He says, eyeing me carefully.

I lean back against the counter. "Most people don't admit to crimes."

"Making sure my little step sister is safe isn't a crime," he says, studying the rim of his glass while running his thumb over it.

"Don't make it about that. We both know that's not what you were doing," I say and his eyes flick to me.

"Wasn't it?" he asks, arching an infuriating eyebrow at me.

Setting my glass on the counter, I turn and walk into the living room. He follows me, placing my cup on the coffee table and putting his next to mine. He pours more in both glasses, then downs his and pours another.

"How can you drink so much?" I ask.

He swirls the drink in the bottom of the glass for a second before answering me. "Tolerance. I drink too much."

"Why would you tell me that?" I ask, baffled. Didn't he come here to try to charm me? Why tell me the ugliest things about himself?

He sits on the couch and leans back a bit, resting his cup on his knee. "I told you I'd never be dishonest with you, Lea," he says staring into space with an absent expression. But when I look closer, I see he's not absent at all. His brain is working hard. I can see it in the way his pupils contract. He's focused on something only he can see.

"So tell me the truth," I say and he glances at me. ""Tell me why you were following me."

"To make sure you were safe and because I was wondering what you'd do next. You do fascinate me, Lea. I can't predict what you're going to do next like I can with most people." He takes another drink of alcohol.

Why do his words make me feel... warm? Maybe it's the alcohol. I can feel it sending heat deep into my bones. And there's a tingle to my lips. It feels... good.

"That's why you thought I'd been sleeping with him," I say. He glances at him, his expression sharp.

"You weren't sleeping with him." He seems to be putting a puzzle together in his mind.

"Well, I was _sleeping_ with him, but we weren't having sex." I clarify, "I guess he was getting that from Jen." My words are bitter. "There were good times, though." I hesitate, thinking about the thought process I'd gone through before I went into his place. "I actually had to think about whether or not there was anything he could say that would fix things." I say.

I wonder if I can keep all the pain at bay if I keep focusing on the good times. But the ache that comes from remembering the tarnished good times are an answer.

"And?" He asks, finishing his drink. He pours more as I pick mine up and nurse a sip from it. The alcohols blazes white hot over my tongue with the added icy hot cinnamon.

"I can't imagine being with someone and always questioning their every move," I say honestly. "Even if he never cheated again – and I'm sure he would," I add quickly, "I'd always suspect. That would make me a terrible girlfriend."

"It would be exhausting," he says and I sense he really understands what I'm saying.

"What about you?" I ask, taking another quick sip of my drink.

He says nothing for a moment. "I'm afraid I've never really gotten attached enough to anyone to give a damn if they're faithful or not." The glass on his knee glitters in the light overhead and I notice he looks... relaxed. More relaxed than I think I've ever seen him.

Is it possible the great Mr. Wilder actually enjoys my company?

"You prefer no strings attached," I say with a nod. That makes sense, given what I know of the man.

He nods.

"Doesn't it get boring?" I ask and he jerks his head up. He levels a stare at me that's almost unnerving. I shift in my seat and put my glass back on the coffee table.

"Perhaps. But there is someone I could imagine - how did you put it? - attaching strings to." He fills his glass, then offers me more. I shake my head. My glass is still half full and I'm not sure I'll even be able to finish it. I'm already feeling a little fuzzy. But it's a good feeling. A relaxed, calm sensation that I want to sink into and enjoy.

"Maybe you should go for it," I tell him. If there's someone in this world that makes him feel a little less alone, he should do everything he can to keep her. The seriousness of the moment presses down on us and the silence grows.

"I'll miss the intermittent oral," I say suddenly, my cheeks stinging as I realize what I've said after I've said it. The expression on his face has me defending myself. "I said we didn't have sex. There were... other things. But he sucked at it anyway."

"Pity," he says. His tongue flicks out to touch his top lip and I remember how his mouth felt on me last night. Thinking about it, my heart begins to pound and I stare at his lips, mesmerized.

Like we're one mind, he moves toward me and I pull my pants down my thighs. He helps me pull them the rest of the way off and shoves my shirt up. His hand finds my breasts, his thumb teasing my nipple to a stiff peak.

He buries his face between my legs and I cry out in excitement.
Chapter Twelve

Wild

She's so peaceful when she's sleeping. With a kiss on her forehead, I smile as she murmurs something undecipherable. With quiet steps, I head out of her house and lock the door behind me.

It's baffling to me how hard it is to keep my hands to myself. Sure, I'd gone down on her. She'd come. It was incredible. But we'd stopped there. She was on the verge of passing out and I was concerned with getting her to bed. She'd asked me to stay and I had.

Stayed. Curled up in her bed, holding onto her as she slept. A new first for me.

And I'd made a few vows as the night slipped into early morning.

I'd promised to make sure the people who hurt her paid for it.

I'd promised to not let bullshit excuses – like the step sibling thing – break this bond between us.

And I'd promised her that I'd never take more than she willingly gives me.

It's five am and I'm making the first business calls I've made in a week. "Greene. Yes, I'm terribly sorry. Tied up with some family drama. Of course you've heard." At my car, I turn and look up at Lea's bedroom window. "We've got a problem. Jen Anders. Excellent. Good day."

Hanging up the phone, I climb into my car, a cruel smile on my lips.

"You're playing a dangerous game."

"It's not a game," I adjust the rearview to focus on my father in the back seat. Turning over the engine, I pull away from the curb. "Shouldn't you and the missus be consummating your engagement?"

"I would," he says, "but my son seems to be on the warpath. I'm worried about you." His hand comes down on my shoulder.

"Obviously. You spent a good half hour in my car waiting for me in the early morning hours when you should be at home, in bed, asleep. Tell Porter he's not sneaky."

Dad sighs. "You knew he was following you."

"He's a bumbling idiot. Fire him." I turn the corner and pull over.

He pulls the handle but doesn't push the door open. "Be careful," he says simply before exiting my car.

"I'm always careful," I mumble under my breath as the door closes behind him. I glance up at Rosemary's home, thinking about why he's here, rather than at home. The curtains are drawn and there's a phone book at the edge of the drive. It's wet from the recent rain. They haven't been coming out to get it.

The mailbox is open a little bit and I can see mail peeking out from the door. It's been just as neglected. Which tells me that they've been too shut in to be bothered with such things. So dad took time from the obviously important activities that keep him and my step mom to be inside to come warn me.

I should have known he'd figure it out.

Picking up my phone again, I dial another number. "Fredrick? Good, how are you? I wanted to be frank. Someone under your employ has had some... indiscretions with another employee. Luke Davis and Abigail Ridgeway. Of course. My pleasure." I hang up, satisfied with my work as I pull away from the curb and head toward the hotel I've been staying in to keep close to Lea.

It's nearly one pm when my phone trills. Lea's calling.

"Hello?" I say, writing another note and crossing out the previous.

"Hi." She sounds shy, as if she's embarrassed about what happened last night. "Can you help me with something?" she asks and I sit up, dropping the notepad aside.

"Sure, but first, a seven letter word for asphyxiate?"

"What?" She asks, but I hear the note of curiosity in her voice. "Asphyxiate, asphyxiate... smother?"

"Smother." I pencil it into the puzzle. "I hate crosswords."

"I love them," she says.

Of course she does. I grab my coat and leave the house, phone still to my ear.

Five minutes later, I'm at her place. She's got her hands on her hips, looking around as if lost at the pitiful pile of boxes. "That's everything," she says.

"You should burn it all."

She shakes her head at me. "No. I'm an adult, I'm giving his stuff back like a responsible adult."

"Well, technically _I'll_ be the one giving him his things back," I say and she makes a face at me. Like an adult.

"You can't burn his things," she says. "Please tell me you'll do this?"

She's a good person. To a fault. Someone will take advantage of her someday. The thought sinks like a stone in my gut.

"Fine. I'll drop it all off at his place," I say.

"Thank you," she says.

"Where is your car?" I ask and she shrugs.

"I think I left it outside the Shasta Café." She seems sad as she says it and I instantly realize why. Shasta Café is where she and Jen were having lunch the day she found out her boyfriend and best friend were betraying her.

"I like walking," she says, lifting her face and smiling at me. "Helps clear my head."

I _was_ right.

"Is there anything else?" I ask, sensing her hesitation.

She opens her mouth as if to speak, but closes it again. "Um, no."

I step close to her and lift her chin so she's looking at me. "I said I'd never be dishonest with you. I'd appreciate the same courtesy in return."

Her eyes dart back and forth between mine for a moment before she sighs. She walks away, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms as she does so. "Jen and I had plans for this thing," She picks up a couple tickets from the counter and waves them my general direction before putting them back down. "They're going to expire."

She seems sad and I struggle to understand. I could easily get her new tickets, but I sense that's not the issue. It's not the thing. It's not the expiration date. It's this plan she made with her best friend and the sense of loss she's dealing with.

"I could go with you," I offer. The words surprise me as they leave my lips.

She looks up at me, her eyes wondering as they search my face. "Really?" she asks.

What's the worst that could happen?

"What are they for?" I ask, watching her eyes sparkle with excitement.

"A spa day." She grins at me. "But no backing out now. You said you'd do it."

And I will keep my word. But not without an internal groan.
Chapter Thirteen

Lea

I hadn't meant to rope Trever into going with me. I expected him to back out. But he didn't. He surprises me at every turn. He'd offered to help me move Luke's things, then did so despite voicing he'd have done things differently.

The voicemails and texts I'd gotten from Luke after his things had been dropped off made me a bit suspicious. He'd been courteous. He _thanked_ me for packing things up and delivering them back to him.

I think Trever did something to make him behave himself.

But when I asked Trever what he did, he said he'd merely talked with Luke.

And I trust him. It's stupid. I know I should have him at arm's length. I know he's dangerous and what I feel for him, around him, is doubly dangerous. But he's been honest. Painfully so at times. He's the first person I feel I've ever been able to really, totally, and wholly trust.

And that's scary.

My life is falling apart, but I'm holding together surprisingly well. And I can't help but feel like he's got something to do with that. I'm just not sure what, yet.

I climb into his car and close the door behind me. Buckling up, I glance at him. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask.

"I'm a man of my word," he says.

"I'm saying you can back out now with no hard feelings," I say.

But he pulls away from the curb. "You said you were feeling your way through life," he says. "What did you mean by that?"

I shrug and stare out my window as he drives. "You know how in elementary school, they ask kids what they want to be when they grow up?"

"Do they?"

I nod. "I could never decide. I only ever said I don't know."

"You haven't found your ideal yet," he says.

"I guess," I say.

"Allow me to share a secret," he says and I glance over at him. His face is set like stone. "There is no ideal. We all fumble through life. And we either get lucky or decide to make the best of what we've got."

"Which are you?" I ask.

He glances at me and gives a wicked grin. "Lucky."

"What do you think about me?" I ask.

He seems startled and I feel the need to explain what I mean. "I mean, you seemed to know so much about me that night at dinner and I didn't even know you beyond your name."

"You're not sad about the tickets expiring," he says and my heart stops in my chest. "You're sad at the loss you feel having lost the person who'd accompany you."

"Wow," I say, blinking back tears. "You're right. What else?"

"You had a good childhood. But your parents divorced when you were in your early teens. It left you feeling divided and always stuck in the middle of their battles."

I shake my head. "You had an investigator check all of that."

He stares at me so long I begin to watch the road and squirm. "I profiled you long before I had someone look into you." He finally focuses back on the road.

"Let me do you," I say, studying him. "Your parents didn't divorce. Your mom passed away when you were little."

He glances sharply at me. "How did you know that?"

I reverse the logic and explain it out loud. "You never mentioned her and when your father did it was in the past tense. Which people generally only do when someone has passed away. I knew it was when you were young because you _didn't_ mention her. You were little, so you grew up not talking about her because you knew it hurt your father. Thus you got into the habit of not talking about her at all. How did I do?"

He swallows hard. "I was four."

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling bad for bringing up something so painful. He pulls into a parking spot and I pull him into a hug. "I hope I didn't ruin things."

"Not at all," he says, pulling away and getting out of the car. I climb out and smile at him over the top. "A spa day is just what I've been hoping for," he adds.

"Really?" I ask.

"No," he says flatly.

"I thought you'd never be dishonest with me?" I tease.

His eyes meet mine. "Intent, love. My intent was not to deceive, but to amuse. Humor is not dishonesty."

I nod, accepting this. He comes around the car and side by side, we walk into the spa.

"You seem comfortable over there," I say as he relaxes on the table beside me.

"I prefer my masseuse," he says.

I giggle. He's messing with fire, insulting the person working on him. "You'll have to prove it." It's so easy to forget how very different his life is from mine. We're such an unlikely pair it's kind of shocking we get along so well. Or I think so, at least.

Then again, his words weren't mean spirited. More like a statement of fact.

"You look good in a mud mask," I tease. "You're going to look so young. Which is bad, since older men look distinguished."

"I'm not quite sure how to respond," he says, the mud cracking around his mouth.

"There's no good response," I say. It's nice to see him so out of his element. But he's being a good sport about all of it so far. Maybe I was wrong about him. Sure, he's absolutely a snob. But he's other things too; like kind. Like wonderful. Like sexy as hell even with a mud mask on. How the heck is that possible?

"So we're supposed to sit here and sweat?" He asks, arching an eyebrow at me.

"Exactly," I say.

"Why were you with that twat?" he asks.

"Luke?" I ask, stunned by the out of the blue question. "He's not a... twat. I liked him. A lot. We had a lot of good times. More good times than bad, actually." But he betrayed me.

Sadness seeps into my otherwise happy soul and I feel myself wilt. The oppressive heat of the room presses in and sweat tickles down my neck and spine.

"And Jen, she's amazing. She's funny and ridiculous. I remember when this guy she dated, Brice, dumped her. She stayed in bed a week. When she finally got out of bed, she hated me for a day. Told me that I'm lucky. And I told her she's beautiful and funny and over the top. She interrupted me to ask if I'd help her hide a body." I grin, remembering the look on her face. I must have looked shocked, because she'd rolled her eyes at me.

Since then it had been a running joke.

A joke that's over. Because she and I will never be friends like that again.

"She sounds _delightful_." He says the word delightful, but it sounds like _dreadful_ over his lips.

I shrug.

"You're delightful," he says, and this time it sounds like the right word. His hand finds my cheek and I turn into his touch as he murmurs, "And incredible. And _unbelievably_ sexy."

His lips meet mine and I back off an inch. "You have to stop kissing me.

"I can't," he whispers, kissing me again.
Chapter Fourteen

Wild

"Tell me more about what you do." Lea glances up at me as she lets us back into her place.

But as the door closes behind us, I grab and press her against it. "Not now," I growl, kissing her lips. Her arms circle my shoulders and she melts into me.

And her phone trills.

I feel her freeze up in my arms and know who's texting.

"Jen?" I ask.

"How did you know that?" she whispers, taking her phone out of her pocket.

"Your reaction. It's a specialized ring, so someone close. You didn't get pissed, so not Luke. You didn't silence it, so not your parents. That leaves Jen," I whisper back then ask, "Why are we whispering?"

She shrugs and looks down at the text. "She's going to call me. She's asking me please to not ignore her."

Her expression is one of someone who's just been slapped.

The phone rings and she looks up at me in confusion, as if asking what she should do.

I nod at her. I think she should talk to her friend.

"Hello?" she says, her tone breathless as she switches it to speaker phone.

"Did you go to the spa?" Jen sounds like she's been crying.

"Yeah, why?" Lea runs her fingers through her hair, the phone in her hand.

Jen sniffs on the other line. "I got the confirmation email."

"I have other friends," Lea says.

"I know," Jen says, her voice breaking on a sob.

"What's going on?" Lea asks, her tone worried for her friend. And I hate Jen for doing this to her. Jen screwed up on her own. She doesn't need to drag Lea down into her self-created pit of despair.

"Just... everything," Jen says. I hear her give a half-hearted laugh. "My whole life is falling apart. I got fired, Luke dumped me and I can't even call my best friend to vent."

I see Lea soften. "Well, I won't make any promises, but maybe some time will help this."

And I wonder why this woman has such an impact on Lea. Lea worships Jen and I have no idea why. Her friend is shallow, cruel, and I can't seem to find any redeeming qualities. And she had to know she'd be caught cheating with Luke.

Maybe that's it. She wanted to be caught. What had Lea said about the boyfriend that dumped Jen and the joke about hiding his body?

_She hated me for a day. Told me that I'm lucky_.

"Hello Jen," I say, then continue not expecting an answer. "When Brice dumped you, he told you he thought he was in love with Lea. Did you ever tell her about that?"

Lea jerks her head up and stares at me, her lips parting in shock.

"What?" Jen sounds shocked.

"When Brice dumped you, you stayed in bed a week," I say more Lea's benefit. "You were depressed, but more than usual. Usually being dumped bounces off you like nothing. You're usually bored by that point. You're glad they dumped you. But not Brice. You didn't expect him to dump you and it hurt."

I see Lea's eyes widening as I speak and Jen sputters on the other end of the phone.

But I'm not done. I continue speaking, my eyes locked on Lea's. "But it hurt more than even that explains. So there's more to the story. You hated Lea for a day. So she did something to wrong you, or was somehow involved. She worships you, so I doubt she did something to wrong you."

Lea shakes her head as if to tell me I'm wrong.

But I know I'm not wrong. "You can deny it, love," I say, arching an eyebrow at her. "But what you said was unforgivable for Luke is something you can get past for her. You worship her."

Her eyebrows shoot up as she thinks about it.

And I keep going. "So she was involved. What reason could a guy dump you that would make you mad at your best friend? Because he likes her. But _like_ isn't enough to earn your hate. No, he had to love her. Or want to fuck her more than he wanted to fuck you. But I doubt that, since Lea isn't as forthcoming in her sexual relations are you are. So. _He was in love with her_."

I hesitate, then speak in a slow voice, each word bouncing through the silent room. "Did. You. Tell. Her?"

I glance at Lea. She's gone pale.

"Your silence is an answer," I warn Jen.

"No!" Jen snaps. "I never told her. I loved Brice!"

"So fucking Luke was just to get even for a transgression she had no hand in?" I push in a strong voice.

"Yes!" Jen says, rage in her voice.

"You're a miserable bitch," I say.

Lea glares at me, but Jen breaks down again. "I know. I'm sorry, Lea. I'm the worst friend ever. I'm sorry."

"I have to go," Lea says in a flat tone.

"No, please don't hang u-"

Lea touches the red phone and glares at me. "There was no better way to handle that?" she asks, her voice all fiery.

"I'm sure there was. But it got the job done. Now you've got all the tools to make an informed decision as to whether or not to be her friend moving forward."

Lea seems pissed and begins to pace.

"What?" I ask, watching her storm back and forth like she's trying to contain her rage. "Did I do the wrong thing?"

"The right thing, the wrong way," she says, turning to face me. "Look, some things are better discussed."

"She never would have told you," I say, incredulous in the face of her anger. "She's kept it from you for years. She's acting out based on something you _didn't even know about_. How was this the wrong way?"

"I don't know," she says, and I realize she's not mad at me even though she's lashing out at me.

Walking over to her, I pull her into my arms and begin to stroke her hair. "I'm sorry the world is a terribly ugly place some times," I whisper before pressing a kiss to her cheek.
Chapter Fifteen

Lea

I knock at the door of his upscale hotel room. The door opens and I look up at him in awe. We're supposed to be going to dinner with our parents. I feel like I haven't seen mom in forever, though it's only been a week.

"Are you ready?" I ask, my mouth going dry as he steps back into his room, motioning me to follow.

"I got something for you," he says. "For tonight."

For the dinner. I follow him through the luxurious suite and into the master bedroom. This place is ultra-modern and everything is black and white, dark stained wood, stainless steel and frosted glass. And lights, lights everywhere.

The master bedroom is breathtaking. Over the end of the neatly made bed is a dress in the deepest purple.

"For you," he says, jerking his chin toward it.

"The dress?"

A slight smile curves the corners of his lips. "There's an expectation."

I blush, knowing he's talking about the last time we went to dinner together. The nice, dressy place I crashed in my jeans and tee shirt. Guess he won't let that happen again.

With shaking hands, I pick up the dress. It's smooth and cool and so very sexy. The front neckline plunges and the back is open all the way down. The cut is simple, though tasteful and elegant.

Pulling my shirt off, I turn away from him. "Help me," I say, slipping off my pants. He helps me into the dress and when I turn to face him, he adjusts the front. His knuckles brush my nipples and they harden instantly.

That wicked smile of his grows. "Knock that off, or we're staying in," he growls.

"I can't control my body around you," I whisper, looking up at him.

I notice his jaw flex as he brushes my hair back from my face. His hands find my shoulders and he turns me. Around my neck he lowers a delicate chain with dangling purple stones. The jewelry feels cold against my skin but quickly heats up as it settles between my breasts.

"When my father asks, you've accepted a job as a private eye on retainer for a huge company," he says and I furrow my brow.

"But that's not true," I say.

His hands press a letter into my hands. It's a contract. Certain words leap out at me. On retainer. Yearly salary. A hefty seven figure yearly salary.

"What is this?" I ask, seeing my name on it.

He takes my hand and helps me step into the heels that match the dress I'm wearing.

He says, "You ask all the right questions. I've got this little start up project that needs someone to ask all the right questions. You work for them and I make sure you're paid."

I turn around, still unable to process.

And as if he sees that, he grins at me. "You're family, love. I have to make sure my interests are covered. You are both good at poking around and seem to enjoy it. So I found a place for you. Is the pay acceptable?"

"Acceptable?" I choke out. "It's too much."

He shakes his head. "Don't be silly. You come highly recommended."

"By you," I accuse.

He doesn't deny it and his devilish grin somehow grows more wicked. "You know the right people, then. Well worth the price, if I do say so myself."

"I don't know the first thing about this," I say, waving the paper at him.

He nods. "But you know something that can't be taught. You have skills that are valuable that the lay man simply does not. Trust that I won't be dishonest with you," He nods at the paper in my hand. "You're worth far more, but I need a little time to prove that to shareholders before I bump your pay. I'm a responsible business man, after all."

"Bump my- you're insane, you know that?" I glare up at him, but he seems unimpressed.

He shrugs. "I'm a good business man. My hunches are generally right and I trust them. Are you ready to go, then?" he asks, offering me his arm.

I'm staring at the paper in my hands, realizing this is all real. It's true. With a squeal of pure joy, I throw my arms around him and press my lips to his.

The joy quickly turns to heat as my tongue tastes his lips. He opens for me and our tongues meet. His hands press flat to my bare back and I enjoy the warmth of his touch.

I break the kiss long enough to whisper, "Let's stay in."

"Shall I order dinner, then?" he asks, his lips touching mine gently.

"Sure," I murmur, kissing him lightly. "Thank you," I say as he presses his forehead to mine. Looking him in the eyes, I smile a little and glance at his lips. "For everything," I say.

He kisses me again. This whole week feels like a dream. I thought everything was falling apart, but now it seems more like everything is falling into place.

"Is Barbeque okay?" he asks.

"Sounds amazing," I say.

He pulls out his phone and hits a button. "Done," he says.

"That was fast," I say, but he takes my hand and leads me toward the sliding glass doors. The doors open and we step out onto the balcony under the stars. I look around and see the wine set out on a table and a little silver box. Comfortable looking chairs sit and face the mountains that are draped in silver fog.

Over the mountains the moon peeks at us. It's eerily beautiful. And all the stars, I've never seen so many stars in all my life.

"You planned this," I accuse him.

He nods. "Of course I did."

"What's in the box?" I ask.

He seems lost in thought. "I had a hunch about you from the beginning. But you're an enigma. I can't quite figure you out. Time and again you've proven me wrong even as the people around us prove me right."

He lifts his phone, then arches an eyebrow at me.

My phone chimes with a text from mom. C _an't make it tonight. Love you! Will call later._

I glance up at him. He's a devil, alright. "You knew they'd cancel. But how?"

He pours two glasses of wine and hands me one. I take a sip and so does he. "They're in a relationship that's finally comfortable. No doubt they rarely leave the bedroom, except to have sex on new surfaces."

"Ugh, that's disgusting," I say.

"I'll tell them you said that. However, it is human and absolutely typical." He nods at me and sips his wine. I notice he seems to fixate on his wineglass. "I drink less when I'm with you," he says, his tone almost absentminded.

"Good," I say.

His eyes flick to me.

After a moment of careful inspection, he places his drink on the table. I watch him approach, my heart fluttering in my chest. "I'm going to kiss you," he murmurs.

I thought he'd make me wait all night.

His lips meet mine and I surrender to him.
Chapter Sixteen

Wild

She's sleeping next to me, totally naked. And I'm still reeling. She's fucking amazing. We'd spent the night eating our body weight in Barbeque, sharing stories of our childhood, whispering secrets and talking candidly.

And she'd blown my mind again and again.

"You okay?" she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

"Perfect," I whisper, kissing her cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"Will you be here when I wake up?" she asks.

"Yes," I tell her. Such a little thing to in her mind, this sleeping next to her. She has no idea that she's the first woman I've ever allowed myself to stay with. Once sex is done, I'm generally gone, or they are. Once the purpose has been served, the visit is over. The same way I don't generally talk to the women I'm with. There's no point.

But staying with her feels right.

She curls into me like a kitten and I feel myself drift off to sleep.

I wake and she's gone. I hear the shower running and wonder how she managed to slip out of bed without me even noticing. I stand up and head toward the bathroom. On the other side of the glass shower door, I see her, standing under the spray of water.

"Good morning," she says, turning to look at me.

I swallow hard, enjoying her body, her curves, her incredible tits. "Good morning," I say.

"Sorry, needed a shower, I swear I must have bathed in barbeque sauce last night," she says. But I'm watching water run down her body, caressing every curve in a way I want to follow with my tongue. "I'll be out in a minute," she says, clearly dismissing me as she turns around again. Her luscious ass isn't a bad sight, but I'm not going to just stand here and stare at her.

Leaving the bathroom, I pick up my phone.

No new texts. Interesting. I expected dad to be sending messages about our new business associate.

"Could you bring me my phone, please?" Lea asks, opening the bathroom door just enough to peek out at me.

I pick her phone up and notice it lights up at my touch. A text from Luke pops and up and my eyes read it before I can remind myself it's her phone and none of my business. _Today. 2pm. My place._

She's meeting up with him?

Something that can only be jealousy surges through me. Carefully schooling my features, I walk over and hand her her phone. She takes it and closes the door with a softly spoken, "thanks."

I begin to think. He told her they need to talk. Which means he's got something. He's got something he thinks he can say that will fix everything. Some magical phrase that'll bring her back no matter what he's done.

But what?

I sit on the edge of the bed hunched forward and place my elbows on my knees. Hands together, I stare at the floor. What could he use against her?

The bathroom door opens and she steps out, her lips curved into a smile just for me. "I'm going to run home and change. Talk to you later?" She's fully dressed and ready, not a word of her plans for the day crossing her lips.

"Of course," I say. She's gone in a moment while I try to ponder on Luke. After a moment, I rise and pour myself a shot of bourbon. If I was a low life bit of scum, what would be the ace up my sleeve?

He's a typical jackass. The question would be easy if it were anyone else other than Lea. She's my wildcard and makes this feel like an impossible puzzle.

My phone buzzes. I lift it up. _Need you, ASAP_.

Duty calls. Ten minutes later, I'm at Wild, the club I opened a decade ago when I turned twenty one. Being rebellious paid off for me, though of course I'd done careful research to make sure this was a good idea.

But it had paid better than I ever calculated. To call it popular is an understatement. The place needs reservations, and even then there's still a line out the door a mile long hoping for no-shows or even a peek at the rich and famous that stop by often.

Behind the bar, I take a drink to steady my hands. "Oh, boss," Dee says, stopping dead. "You got my mass text. We're down three people tonight, flu-"

"Of course," I tell her and begin to set things up for the night. I don't mind busy work, though there are a dozen people I could have called in to do it. Right now, I'm exercising a Lea tactic. She walks to clear her mind. Usually, I drink, but instead, I'll work. Focus.

"Let me go!"

I glance up and see Jen struggling with the bouncer. I nod at him and he releases her. She stalks over to me, her face livid. "You had me fired."

"And how did you know I was here?" I ask, trying not to sound bored.

"What? You own the place. Why wouldn't you be here?" she asks, her lip curling at me. She gives her head a quick shake. "You had me fired," she says again as if the words should mean something to me.

"The thing about being untrustworthy," I say, but she talks over me.

"You had no right!"

I shrug. "Life isn't fair, princess." I get back to working.

"You love her, don't you?" she asks.

My hands stop dead still. I say nothing, thinking about her words.

"Your silence is an answer," she says, tossing my words back at me with no venom.

"You've got no one to blame for your problems but yourself," I tell her.

She nods, as if accepting it. "Fine. You're right. But you love her. Help me. You know she cares about me. I fucked up. I want to fix it."

"If you cared, you wouldn't have fucked her boyfriend," I say, walking toward the other end of the counter to fix a flickering light. Tightening the bulb, I watch her hurry back toward me.

"I do care. So I want you to know that she's going to Luke's house today. He's going to tell her I was a mistake." Her eyes go red and well over with tears. "That he loves her. That he wants to marry her."

Really?

That's the plan?

Jen turns to leave. I watch her go then pull out my phone. Calling Lea, I wait patiently as it rings. And rings. And goes to voicemail. Fuck.

"Hey," Dee says, looking after Jen before glancing up at me, worry in her face. "Jeremy, Roger, and Sam are coming in. Why don't you go sort that out?" She jerks her chin toward Jen's retreating figure. "Thanks for helping," she adds.

"No problem," I say before making a beeline for the door.
Chapter Seventeen

Lea

Stunned, I walk out of Luke's house even as he calls my name.

The front door feels heavy in my hands as I close it behind me and lean on it a moment. The fresh air doesn't help me breathe any better as I try to process what Luke just said to me.

It was a mistake. Jen was a mistake. You're the woman I love. Marry me.

He'd gotten down on one knee. He'd showed me the ring.

I want to throw up.

I'm _mad_.

Mad he assumed I'd throw myself at him as if his offer is so incredible I'd be stupid not to accept it. Mad I'd let myself be roped into this bullcrap. Mad I'd come here and wasted my time. Why the hell would he think I'd marry him? Does he really think so highly of himself?

Lifting my head, I instantly notice Trever standing across the street, watching me. And my anger finds a new target. Was he following me again? This has got to stop. I'm a grown ass woman who can handle her own problems.

I walk down the steps toward him, ready to give him a piece of my mind. Behind me, Luke's front door opens and he calls my name again as if I'll come running back like a good little girl.

Fuck that.

Most fires need to be run from. But some are worth running into, like the one I see in Trever right now.

I stalk across the street and march right up to Trever. He's so carefully controlled I see nothing behind his eyes but guarded hints of emotion. Without a word, we turn and fall into step beside each other.

"Were you following me?" I ask, hearing my anger bleed into my voice.

"No." The single word is sharp.

I shove my hands deep in my jacket pockets against the chill in the air. "You said you'd never be dishonest."

"And I'm a man of my word."

He's talking me in circles without answering my question. And it's frustrating. "So you just wound up here-"

"I saw the text on your phone and Jen stopped by. She said that your ex was going to talk to you." His words are clipped and I blink my surprise. How did Jen know?

"Jen stopped by... where?" I ask, confused. Did she come to his room? That doesn't make any sense. Dread lines my stomach.

"Wild," he says curtly.

I glance up at him and he shrugs off the questions I know he has to see in my face. "I was there for work. Turns out, they didn't need me after all. But she found me there."

We walk up to his hotel. He opens the door for me and I hurry inside. We fall silent as we cross the lobby and head for the elevator. In the elevator, I want to ask him what his problem is. Why he seems so pissed. But I say nothing and neither does he.

The hall is empty as we head toward his room and I struggle to contain my thoughts. When the door closes behind us, I turn to face him. "What is your problem?" I ask. The words practically burst out of me.

He steps past me and takes a seat on a chair that's near the glass fire place. Following him over, I take a seat on the couch and study him. He seems absolutely relaxed, but I _feel_ the tension he's so carefully concealing.

"I know you're pissed," I say. I want him to know he's not fooling me one bit.

"Are you going back to him?" he asks quietly.

"What?" I ask, feeling incredulous. He can't possibly think I'd want anything to do with the asshole who cheated on me then _told me_ to marry him.

"Are you going back to him?" he asks again, his tone measured and calm.

Feeling like I'm backed into a corner about things that are still fresh, I lash out at him. "What do you care? You prefer no strings attached. So even if I do get back together with him- why are you laughing?" It's not a laugh, not really. It's a chuckle. A dark chuckle that sends a shiver down my spine.

He stands up and I leap to my feet. Where is he going?

"No strings attached." He sighs and shakes his head.

And I realize he is attached.

He turns to face me and suddenly, his lips are on mine. His tongue presses to my lips and my body surrenders to him. My lips part for him and when his hands grip my hips, I'm pretty sure he's keeping me on my feet.

He's attached.

To _me_.

My knees go weak and my heart thuds against my collar bone.

" _You're mine_ ," he growls against my lips.
Chapter Eighteen

Wild

She'd left hours ago.

And I'm still here, staring at the door. When did I pour more bourbon? I drink the fiery liquid. She never told me if she was going back to him.

But of course she would. He's comfortable. Safe. Sure, he'd broken her heart, but I can see it when she talks about him; she's still got feelings for him. It's tragic. He'll only hurt her.

The door opens and I continue staring into the distance and drinking my bourbon as my dad walks in and sits down. "You're not answering your phone." He sounds gruff, yet concerned.

"You have better things to do than babysit your adult son," I say, lifting the glass to my lips to gulp down a larger drink.

He's quiet a moment.

"You know, when I met your mother, she drove me bonkers." He grins, settling back in his seat as he stares into space. "I think she enjoyed it. But it was a problem for me. I was so used to just knowing people from a glance, a handshake, from their words that not knowing her mind bothered me."

"And?" I ask. It's uncomfortable to talk about her, and I'd rather he keep this stroll down memory lane short. And relevant. "I assume you've got a point?"

"And I thought that my interest in her was purely this fascination. It took me almost too long to learn it was more than that." He seems disturbed.

"And your relationship with Rosemary; does she drive you mad as well?" I arch an eyebrow at him.

"That ship has long since sailed, my son." He gives me a tight smile. "But no. Rosemary is something else entirely. But I knew right away. Maybe because I'd been in love before."

I let out a snort of disbelief. "You think I love Lea."

"You love her, son. Don't lie to yourself or me." He sounds offended, which is no small feat for a man unaffected by most things in life.

And he's right.

"I've never seen you so torn up over anyone. It's rather unnerving," he focuses on me and I continue to stare at a wall like I can see far beyond it.

"She's going back to her ex." The words are a like a shot and an absolute silence follows.

"I don't envy you the battle before you," he says finally, "but I assure you it's well worth it."

***

I text the number and wait for the response.

Taco box, all soft. Cinnamon twists. Anything sweet, or with tons of sour cream and guacamole.

_Thanks_ , I fire back.

I'll have to go to Wild to get my car. It'll be a short walk and the weather seems to be holding up.

When I'm behind the wheel again, I drive to the fast food place and place my order. With the hot food in the passenger seat, I drive toward Lea's place.

I'm about to try my luck.

The phone rings and I pick it up instantly. "Yes, Rosemary?" I say.

"Have you seen Lea?" she asks.

Not for a few hours.

"What appears to be the problem?" I ask instead.

"She's not answering her phone. Can you be a dear and check on her?" Rosemary sounds worried.

And I catch it. Not worried like _worried where her child is_. Worried that she'll be caught.

"I take it my father shared his theory with you?" I ask.

She hesitates.

And I wait.

"I know who you are. What kind of man you really are, Trever." She seems to be picking her words carefully and I recognize the double edge in them. "I trust you'll do the right thing. Take care and tell her to call me." She hangs up and I press my thumb to the red icon to hang up.

Now I'm left wondering what she thinks is the right thing to do. Pursue her daughter; my step sister, or back off and honor the sibling title I've been ignoring since coming here?

Tricky, tricky.

But there's really no question. I know exactly what I'm going to do.

I'm going to try my luck.
Chapter Nineteen

Lea

My phone buzzes again and I lift it up without moving. I'm in bed. Under the covers. Hiding from the insane people in my life. Adulting sucks.

My phone buzzes again. Another text. From Luke, of course.

Dropping my phone next to my head, I roll over onto my belly and burrito in the blankets. The TV is on, but I'm not watching it. Nah, I'm recapping my Jerry Springer life. Over and over. Trying to figure out where I went wrong.

Because I done effed up somewhere.

The phone buzzes again. I'm going to hear that sound I my nightmares. Luke hasn't let off. Not a little bit. He keeps texting, keeps asking me to please consider it. He's swearing that cheating on me showed him what's really important. That he had to lose me to really know how much he needs me.

It's like a bad sitcom and he's saying all the right things, but they feel so wrong. So slimy. I haven't texted him back.

Jen's even texted, telling me that she's sorry again. That she hopes I can forgive her. Reminding me of happier times. Telling me she wants to get together for lunch and really talk. She wants to get everything out in the open so we can both decide if we can salvage our friendship.

But I can't stop thinking about what Trever had said. That I was thinking about forgiving her for something I'd crucified Luke for. I'd said it was unforgivable when he was the man cheating. But my brain had wanted to give Jen a free pass. Why?

My mom even texted; asking if I'm okay.

I'd decided not to respond. How do I respond to it? No, I'm not freaking okay. The whole world decided to go crazy and I'm just trying not to drown in the insanity. But if I tell her I'm not okay, she'll be pounding on the door demanding answers. Answers I don't have. Can't give. I can't even.

But the one person who hasn't texted me?

Trever.

Of course not.

He's the one person I actually want to hear from.

He'd told me that I'm his. And it freaking destroyed me. I would have given him anything in that moment. Anything. It makes me damp just thinking about it. Squeezing my thighs together, I roll my eyes. More complications in an already difficult situation.

The doorbell rings.

Panic feels like icy hot on my skin. The blazing burn races down my skin, followed by a chill that cuts right to my bones.

I drag myself out of bed and head to the door. Peeking out the peephole, I catch sight of Trever and breathe a sigh of relief. Of all the evils in my life, he seems like the lesser of them all.

Opening the door, I motion him inside quickly and close and lock it behind him. "I'm glad it's you," I say. Following him into the living room, I see him glance into my bedroom. Of course it's obvious I was rolling around in bed. My phone is even still next to my pillow. The TV is still on.

I hurry to turn it off and grab my phone.

"Busy?" he asks, arching an eyebrow at me.

"Absolutely," I say. "You brought food. You're my hero."

He sits on the couch and puts the bags on the coffee table.

"We need to break things off." As soon as I say the words, I want to pull them back. He stiffens a bit and I take a step back. So much for letting him down easily. So much for being careful and not breaking his heart.

I start talking too fast. "It's just... you're amazing. You really are. But things are so crazy right now. I just don't have the mental capacity for a relationship right now. I'm sorry."

"Lea, sit down," he says.

I drop beside him on the couch. He shoves a soft taco into my hand and I feel my stomach grumble. "Did you deduce my love of soft tacos from the time I mentioned a preference for flour tortillas over corn tortillas?" I ask, impressed that he remembered such a minor detail from a passing conversation.

He glances at me out of the corner of his eyes. "No, I asked Jen."

"Oh." I'm not sure if that's less impressive or more impressive. I take a bite. "So you two are talking?"

"A bit," he says. "I don't think you should forgive her, but I told her that if I believed at any point that you should, I'd tell you so."

"And that was enough for her?" I ask, taking another bite.

He nods. "She thinks you trust me."

"She's right," I say.

"She thinks you love me."

I freeze, taco mid-flight to my mouth. Lowering it, I close my mouth. He's studying me, very, very carefully.

"What do you think?" I ask, locking on his blue eyes.

"I think when I said it, you panicked. You asked yourself. And when you did, your pupils dilated. A sure sign you're turned on. Your pulse picked up, meaning you're afraid or excited. Makes sense considering the pupil dilation. But what you didn't do was deny it. It's true, isn't it?" He studies me as I lower the taco to the table.

But I don't answer.

And he asks another question. "Is that why you were attempting to break things off?"

"I, um," I say, scrambling for an answer, something that doesn't sound terrible. But it's pretty grim. "I'm sorry." The words seem like too little. "It's scary. I've got a guy telling me to marry him. I found out Brice apparently thought he loved me. And now, you. I've spent a lot of time being Jen's friend. Finding out that I was ever more than that is... strange."

"That doesn't explain this." He's still watching me closely.

"Do you love me?" I ask, curious where he stands, since he so clearly knows my position.

But he doesn't answer. Instead, he pulls me in and presses his lips to mine. And every reservation I had, every argument against _this_ , fades away.

I wake up and blink in the early morning sunshine.

Trever's arm is heavy around my ribs and I remember last night with a blush. On my nightstand, I see my phone is lighting up like the fourth of July. I pick it up and see Luke's still on his tirade.

This has got to stop.

Carefully slipping out of bed, I dress in a hurry and pull on my shoes. With any luck I can slip out and be back before he notices I'm gone.

Shoving my phone into the pocket of my hoodie, I glance at Trever once more. He's sleeping peacefully and I realize he looks a lot younger when he's asleep. "Be back soon," I whisper.

Locking the door behind me, I hurry down the sidewalk on the familiar path to Luke's house. The walk is brisk in the early morning cold. The grass is damp with dew. Finger combing my hair, I pull it back with the ponytail on my wrist.

As I hurry up Luke's front steps, I lift my knuckles to knock on the door. He opens it instantly and I notice he looks fine. He's sleeping well. Eating right. His face is shaven and scrubbed. His hair is combed. This isn't the face of a man sending me obsessive texts all night long.

"You've finally come to your senses, then?" he asks, pulling me inside.

"I have," I say, standing in the kitchen and eyeing him as he makes a cup of coffee. "I have a question, though."

He turns and sips the coffee. "Shoot," he says over the rim.

"What are you hoping for?" I ask. "You cheated on me. And since then, you've acted like I owe you something. I owed it to you to listen to you. I should be flattered you're asking to marry me." The words feel awful as realization sets in.

"Well," he says, staring into his cup of coffee. "You were cheating on me, so you did owe me an explanation. At least I was honest."

"What?" I can't believe my ears. "I _never_ cheated on you."

"Oh? So you and Wild just kissed for the first time the day we split?"

"Actually, yes. It was the first time I met him." I can tell by the way his eyebrows shoot up that he's shocked. And then suspicious. "But I don't owe you anything. Things were over with us before that kiss. You cheated, not me. _It's over_. I need you to stop calling me, stop texting me."

"Mom will be devastated," he says and I feel my heart begin to sink. He's stooping to using her against me? I love his mother. She's a wonderfully sweet lady.

"She was expecting you at their renewal," he says.

I forgot his parents were renewing their vows this month. Forty five years, an impressive feat. And I feel my resistance begin to crumble. I can't do that to her. I can't just disappear out of her life without at least letting her know why.

And I'm not going to do it over the phone. I'm not going to miss that renewal. "Fine," I say through gritted teeth. "I'll go. But there's nothing between us. Got it? _Nothing_."

An evil grin crosses his lips and I feel sick to my stomach. He's going to try to worm back into my life.

Not going to happen. I've got the man I want at home, in my bed. One who would never use his parents against me. Or use ugly tactics to corner me.
Chapter Twenty

Wild

My hand slides between the sheets in front of me, but I know I'm alone. I don't hear her breathing. Don't feel her warmth. Opening my eyes, I stare up at the ceiling for a moment. Why does her not being here bother me? I've gone from a man who's glad to leave - or see them leave - after sex to one who's sad when she's gone.

The front door opens and she walks back in the room, everything in her tightly wound. She seems furious.

I pat the bed beside me and she glances over. And pulls her hair out of the messy updo it's in before peeling her clothes from her body with trembling fingers. When she climbs in with me, I pull her close and kiss her shoulder. She rolls over to face me and I trail my fingertips down her bare arm as she studies my face.

"I never know the right thing to do," she whispers, her gaze tracing the line of my brow as I brush hair out of her face.

"What do you want to do?" I ask, tracing invisible lines down her soft neck with my fingers.

She hesitates before answering. "Hurt the fewest people."

"That's a tedious road," I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

The corners of her lips curl a little bit. "I'm not traveling it alone."

She's right. Neither of us are alone. "I could do anything with you by my side," I tell her, watching her pretty eyes widen. Running my fingers through her hair, I watch the way the silken strands slide together. "I could rebuild the world as long as I have you."

Kissing the tip of her nose, I see her smile flash.

"I have to go," she says, the tiny bit of joy in her eyes vanishing.

"But you don't want to."

"It's a tedious road." Her whisper sounds strained.

I kiss her gently and she kisses me back. Her whole body moves against mine as my hand finds her hip and I pull her into me.

"Go back to sleep," she whispers.

I wake up and roll over, thinking about the previous day spent in bed and the night spent making love. There's no denying it. Lea's done something to me and there's no going back.

The absolute silence tells me I'm alone.

And my phone is lighting up again, fully charged thanks to the spare cord she'd let me use. I pick it up, hoping she texted me.

But she wasn't the one texting me. No, that's Jen's number.

_She's at his parent's renewal of vows_. An address follows.

_Thanks_ , I text back, thinking how valuable she's been. I could have nicked Lea's phone and checked it, but that feels... wrong. Dishonest. More dishonest than asking her friend where she is, at least.

Ten minutes later, I'm out the door and climbing in my car. It's a good three hour drive away and I know that she's checked into a budget hotel. Alone. Which means even though she's with Luke, they're not sharing a room. Not yet, at least.

She never did tell me if she was getting back with him.

I also know that Lea offered to help set up the whole thing weeks ago. So I have time to get there. I could book a last minute flight, but I think I'd rather drive.

With the route mapped out, I pull away from the curb.

The drive is a blur.

When I pull up to the park, I see people milling on the grass. A great wooden pagoda stands proud amongst trees and the backdrop of a fog-dusted lake gives it all a Thomas Kincade feel.

And my eyes instantly pick out Lea. Beside her is Luke. And he's standing much too close to her for my taste. As if he hears my inner fury, he pulls her closer.

She seems annoyed, but allows him to keep a hold of her. I see her say something with a serious expression and he glances down at her, his grin dimming a little bit. And he leans down to kiss her.

My blood starts to boil even as she turns her head and he kisses her cheek instead. I see her hands plant on his chest as if to push him away and wonder why she's here.

That is, I wonder until I see an older woman pull her into a hug. Of course. His parents love her. She's here for them. But why? She has no obligation now that she and Luke are no longer together? So why come out here?

To keep her word, of course. Hurt the fewest people. She told them she'd come, that she'd help set up and watch their renewal of vows.

But as Luke pulls her close, this time under the watchful eye of his parents, she doesn't push him away. Is she not telling them that the two are split?

Groaning internally, I just watch.

I know why she came. At least, I think I do. I'm not sure why she's letting them think she and Luke are still together.

As Luke's mother turns her back to hug a large woman who'd walked up, I see Lea push Luke away with a glare up at him. And I try to figure her out. If she doesn't want to be with him, why not just tell everyone the truth?

Maybe it's what she said about doing the right thing the wrong way.

From my parking spot, I just watch.

After the sixth text from dad, I finally pick up the phone. _Road trip?_

_Business,_ I text back.

A few minutes pass before he texts back. _Be more honest with her than you're being with me_.

Shoving the phone back in my jacket pocket, I stare at Lea as she smiles and dances with Luke's dad. I've been honest with her every step of the way. I only wish she'd extend the same courtesy to me.
Chapter Twenty One

Lea

I've made a huge mistake.

I smile, but I don't feel any joy. This whole thing has been bittersweet and complicated.

Luke won't stop touching me and his mother keeps asking if we've got any special news for her. I didn't want to tell her it's over until after I could be sure I wasn't stealing the thunder from her special day.

But everything is taking a toll.

"You're so beautiful," Helen says, touching my face. She's been so sweet to me, almost like a mother away from home since Luke and I got together. Now I've got to break her heart.

"Luke told you he was going to ask me to marry him, didn't he?" I ask, weary to the bone. I feel Luke hovering. His whole body tenses up and he grabs my arm above the elbow and squeezes. But I'm done pretending.

"He did," Helen says, her eyes bright and sparkling.

I say nothing, and I feel Luke shift behind me. Helen's eyes move from me to him and back to my face again. I see the happiness drain out of her and I feel terrible. But it has to be done. I'm not going to mislead her any more.

"I said no," I whisper as Luke's hand tightens on my arm. I jerk out of his grasp and notice his mother glance at my arm where he'd been holding me.

"What did you do, Luke?" she asks him, her voice watery with tears.

"I screwed up," he says, having the grace to look ashamed.

I'm not going to add fuel to this fire. His mother doesn't need to know he slept with my best friend.

"We're just not right for each other. He's a good guy. He'll find someone," I say, staring up at him. I so desperately want him to be a good guy. I want it with every fiber of my being. Not because I want him back - I don't - but I do want him to be happy. I want him to find love.

He stares into my eyes as if my words are registering. And his shoulders straighten a little bit. He faces his mother with solidarity. "She's right, of course. But we're still friends," he says, looking down at me and I nod.

"Good," Helen says, looking a bit relieved. "You're the best woman he's brought home, Lea. I'd have loved you as a daughter in law."

"And I'd have loved you as a mother in law. But I'll visit, okay?" I say and she nods, blinking back tears. "It was beautiful," I say, holding onto her. "And you are beautiful. Congratulations. I can only hope I'm as lucky as you one day."

She pulls back to stare me in the eye. "It's not luck. It takes a lot of work to be married. And a lot of compromise."

Past her, I see a familiar car. And a familiar face behind the wheel. He followed me here. But why? And _how_?

Jen. Of course she told him where I'd be. _Dang_ it.

"I'm going to go now," I say. "You have my number," I tell Helen, who nods and pulls me in for another hug.

She gives a sad little " _Oh._ " And squeezes me tight. "I'm no good at goodbyes."

"It's not goodbye, though," I say. "Call or text me anytime."

She pats my shoulder and I turn to Luke. He pulls me into a hug, but he's not handsy this time. He's respectful and my heart is glad.

When he releases me, I see sadness in his expression. "You'll find somebody," I say softly. It's not me. But he'll find someone. I'm sure of it.

When I walk away, I head right toward Trever. At his car, I open the passenger door and climb in. Helen's words are fresh in my mind. Marriage is work. And compromise. And I've been being a bad partner.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going," I say as we sit.

"So it's official, then?" he asks and I glance at him sharply. His tone is totally flat and I realize he's upset.

I just can't.

I don't have it in me to deal with his emotions right now. I'm drained, exhausted, and just done with today. Without answering him, I get out of the car and start walking toward the hotel I'd booked. Luke told me he'd take me home tomorrow, or I could just rent a car if I didn't want to be with him.

My original plan had been to have Jen and I drive here, then stay the night, then drive home. Because she'd make this trip so much more fun. We'd be belting out lyrics to our favorite songs. Me; badly. Her; pretty dang well. She can carry a note. I think I might be tone deaf.

But it's still fun. She's not mean about it. Or she wasn't. I guess maybe I don't know her as well as I thought I did.

At the hotel, I feel Trever following me.

And at my room, I open the door and leave it open for him to follow me in. Making a beeline for bed, I drop face down onto the scratchy blankets.

"So are you two back together?" he asks.

Without moving, I think about my answer. I want to be kind. To be tolerant, but this jealousy, it's wearing. Or flattering. I'm not sure how I feel about it. Everything is tangled up and confusing.

"Why do you care?" I ask, my voice muffled by the blanket. I roll over and stare at him. "You were so adamant that you are strictly no strings attached. I went into this with the mindset of not getting attached. That that is who Trever is, what he stands for. Don't talk to the woman. Don't do more than sleep with her."

He starts to respond, but I cut him off.

My head drops back on the blanket. "It doesn't matter. You're my step brother. Nothing can happen between us." I blink back tears, but they escape and roll toward my ears as I stare at the ceiling. My voice lowers to a whisper that scrapes past the painful lump in my throat. "And no. I'm not back together with him. I won't be getting together with _anyone_. Not for a long time."
Chapter Twenty Two

Wild

They're not getting back together.

It's like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders. And right as that weight was lifted, I'd been kicked in the balls with the knowledge that she'll never consider me because I'm her step brother.

Fuck.

I walk over to where she's sprawled out across the bed. The feelings I have for her don't give a damn who she is. Who we are to each other. My feelings for her don't hinge on simple things, or even obvious ones. I couldn't tell you one thing that made me fall in love with her, but I could write a list a mile long about the little things that drew me in and pulled me under.

Lowering my hands to either side of her shoulders, I press down on her. She's soft and warm under me, willing; I feel her hips tilt like her body knows what we both want. What we need.

But that's not the point right now. Sex is such a small part of all of this. That's part of the reason it's so fascinating. She's the first woman that hasn't just been nice tits. Or an amazing ass. Or sexy hips.

She's a whole being. A person. Not just an object for pleasure.

I've been a real bastard. But she makes me want to be better.

Her eyes follow my face as I lower and press my lips to hers. The electric tingle is still there. A thrill that's more than sex. And the heat rolling through me, that's not just desire. It's more. Deeper than that.

She kisses me back and I know she feels it too. As tears slip down her cheeks, her tongue meets mine. Her sweet flavor is like candy; I've had a taste and want more. Like a good liquor, she's branded into my tastebuds. I _crave_ her.

"I love you," I whisper.

"I love you," she whispers back, her voice choked up. "But I need you to stop." She doesn't fight me. Doesn't push me away. Merely tells me what she needs from me.

And I have no choice. I have to give her what she's asking. No matter how much I want to stay. To persuade her. To convince her how good we'd be together.

"Please leave," she whispers.

Her breath cools my damp lips that still taste like her. Her words, though, they cut me to the bone and carve the heart right out of my chest.

Like a blind man, I back off and stumble out the door.

But I'm not giving up. I'm not done with Miss Lea Staten. I've never felt anything quite like this. And I'm not going to let it slip away.

I'm not going to spend the rest of my life wondering if I did the right thing. Lea is worth fighting for. Because I've never felt anything like this and I need more. I need to know how it would end. But first, how do I convince her to start?

In the elevator, I pull my phone out of my pocket. As the elevator stops and the door slides open, I step out and dial Jen's number.

And I ask a friend for some advice.
Chapter Twenty Three

Lea

Trever is gone.

It's over with Luke.

Jen and I are no longer friends.

My whole world is different than it was a week ago. Everything has fallen apart. I've made tough calls and I've tried to do the best I could with what I had.

So why does it all still hurt so much?

Why are the feelings I have for Trever so different than what I felt for Luke? Why can't I stop thinking about how he'd talked to me, really talked like I was the only person in the world who understood him? Like I was the only one he could trust. Like I was the only one that mattered?

Tears soak my pillow and I draw a deep breath through my nose. I'm stuffed up like I've got a sinus infection and it burns.

I told him to leave.

I told him the truth.

We can't be together.

You don't want to be like the others.

With a sigh, I roll over and stare at the wall. What made me different? What did he see in me?

Like a bad movie, his words replay in my mind over and over again. Our conversations are on repeat and it's driving me nuts.

You prefer no strings attached. Doesn't it get boring?

Perhaps. But there is someone I could imagine \- how did you put it? - attaching strings to.

Maybe you should go for it.

He had. He'd gone for me.

I pick up my phone and text Jen. _Why did Brice say he loved me?_

I don't expect a response, but I'm hoping for one.

My phone buzzes.

Because you're amazing.

_But why?_ I need to know.

The same reasons everyone loves you. You're sweet. And unaware how awesome you are. You're fun to be around. You're easy to love.

I stare at her words, my heart aching more. _Why did you do it?_

A minute passes. Then another. Then my phone buzzes again. _Because none of them ever loved me._

And I get it. She's the pretty one. Beautiful. Everyone wants to sleep with her. But they all leave her. They don't love her. Brice said he loved me. Luke loved me, albeit in his own twisted, weird way. Trever loves me. I'm not excusing what she did, not at all. But I feel like I understand a little better.

Another text comes in from her that simply says, _Are you okay?_

I stare at her message. And decide to take a chance. _I told Trever to leave_.

Why?

He's my step brother. Or will be when our parents tie the knot.

I only have to wait a second for her response. _That complicates things._

Complicates things. No, it makes them impossible. _I can't be with him_ , I text.

Why?

I sigh. She's smarter than this. Why is she drawing this out and making it hurt more? _Because it's wrong. I think it's against the law. Mom wouldn't forgive me. People would judge me_.

A couple minutes tick by and I lower the phone. She's not going to respond. I don't blame her. We're not exactly in a sharing place like this anymore. And I miss it. She was a good friend.

My phone buzzes.

The world is a progressive place. Google says there's no law against it. Your mom loves you and will support you with anything. And since when do you give a fuck what people think?

I stare at the text. Dissect it line by line. The world is progressive, sure. But not for this. I'd never be able to admit it in polite company. _Oh, hey, this is my brother-husband._ I'd avoid that person if someone told me that. Does the step angle really make it acceptable? I'm not so sure.

A quick google search turns up that she's right; no blood relation, no law against it. Still, laws and morality are not the same.

I'm not so sure mom would be okay with it. And while I don't give a fuck what people think, I can't be sure that I can live the rest of my life under the constant judgment of other people.

_Thanks,_ I text back.

I can't help but feel she's wrong. That my feelings for him are wrong.

The memory of him at the spa with me sneaks back into my thoughts and a little smile cuts through all the suffering I'm feeling.

He'd been willing to put up with something he found unpleasant to make me happy. I don't doubt his feelings. I don't doubt my feelings for him. I doubt our ability to make things work. He's also jealous and possessive and even though those things make am a little damp, they're not exactly gold star qualities.

I know he's human. And not perfect. But can I even consider working past the issues?

My phone buzzes.

Jen's text is simple _. I miss you._

I miss you too.

What do I do now?
Chapter Twenty Four

Wild

"Thank you," I tell Jen as she wraps up her conversation with Lea.

"I like you," she says, but she's quick to add, "Not like that. I think you're good for Lea. Don't disappoint me."

"I'll do my best," I say dryly.

"So what are your plans?" She asks, her curious eyes on me. Her phone buzzes and she glances at her, a little tick jumping in her eyebrow. Without responding to it, she drops it back in her purse.

But I see her pulse has kicked up and is pounding at the base of her throat. Her tongue traces her lips before she bites the lower one like she's thinking about something else. Like she's somewhere else.

Filing the information away, I answer and break her out of her thoughts.

"I'm going to apologize. And I'm going to make my argument for love and hope it's enough." It doesn't sound like enough. A plan doomed to fail from the get go. Which is why I'm here. Why I'm talking to her. And why I invited Rosemary. Because this is too important to leave it to chance. I'm going to use every weapon in my arsenal to get this right.

Jen nods and her phone buzzes again. This time, she sighs and rapid fires back a message. She's tense, angry, even, and I wonder what's going on. I'm about to ask as Rosemary walks up beside us.

"Am I late for the party?" Rosemary asks, dropping into the seat across from me.

"I was just leaving, Mom," Jen says, shoving her phone in her pocket. She leans in and kisses Rosemary on the cheek and my soon to be step mother looks gracefully offended.

"Was it something I said?" she asks, but Jen shakes her head. I see her cheeks go a little pink as she answers Rosemary.

"No, I just have something to deal with."

I see the annoyance in her eyes and add that to the rest of the information I've compiled. I'll go full friend and confront her about the new man in her life when I've got Lea by my side.

"Bye," Jen kisses Rosemary's cheek, then gives me an awkward pat on the shoulder.

"Take care," Rosemary says.

I merely nod at her and she smiles and leaves.

"So what's going on with you?" Rosemary asks, focusing on me. "I've hardly seen you or Lea. Your dad is sure you two are in love." She folds her hands neatly on the table, studying me as she speaks slowly. "I'm not so sure. And Lea seems stressed out."

"Tea?" I ask her as the waiter walks up and waits silently as I requested.

"That would be lovely," Rosemary says and the waiter nods and disappears without a word.

I study my step mother and decide to be totally, completely and wholly honest with her. I'm not going to pull punches and sugar coat things. I need her to fully understand and that requires absolute honesty.

So I start from the beginning. "Luke was cheating on her with Jen. They split but are on pretty good terms all things considered. She and Jen are on rocky ground. I'm in love with her and I'm pretty sure she loves me, but she told me that since I'm her step brother, nothing can happen." I sip my tea while my step mother responds without missing a beat.

"So how are you going to convince her?"

"Excuse me?" I ask, looking at her across the table. This isn't the response I expected.

We both go silent as the waiter drops off a steaming cup of tea.

"Thank you," she says and the waiter nods politely at her.

When he's gone, I notice how very serious she is as she zeros back in on me. "She'll work things out. With Jen. With Luke. She's always been quick to let things go, to assume the best of people even at their worst. I guess that's how she fell for you."

With a hand over my heart, I say, "You wound me, woman."

She gives me a stare that says she's not buying it. "I know who you are. I know the rumors. If Lea loves you, it's because she saw something no one else did."

I realize I'm dealing with a more formidable woman that I originally thought. "I underestimated you," I say simply. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed. Dad's love of this woman makes more sense in my mind now. She's a remarkable woman.

Her chin rises and I recognize the trait as one Lea does before battle. "Most people do. Now, _how are you going to convince her_?"

With a new found respect for Rosemary, I tell her my plan.

And with her advice, I adjust and fine tune those plans.
Chapter Twenty Five

Lea

I peek out the peephole to see who'd knocked. My heart sinks as I realize it's the UPS man. I open the door and he apologetically tells me I have to sign.

"Guess I look bad, huh?" I ask, taking it and signing my name on the line.

He gives a little shrug. "I'm not judging," he says before taking the little machine back and pressing a package the size of a shoebox in my hands.

I study the plain brown box while saying a halfhearted, " _have a good day._ "

But he's already back in his truck and pulling away. The box offers no clues to what's inside and the sender is an innocuous name I don't recognize.

Sent locally. From a woman I don't know. In a very plain box. It's not heavy. No logos from any business, minimal labels. It's designed to give nothing away while saying a lot.

Of course this has something to do with Trever.

But what? Curious, I take the box inside and set it on the coffee table. I stare at it and begin to pace. By the weight of it, I'd guess it's something small. Why a big box for something small?

Because a small box might imply other things and scare me.

Why am I staring at it? Why am I guessing when I can just find out?

Dropping onto the couch, I use my keys to cut through the tape and pull open the flaps. Inside I find a key and a blank white card the size of a credit card. But not an explanation. Setting the key down, I turn the card over. Nothing. Just a white card with no markings or indications it belongs to something.

So I return to the box, looking for clues. And I find something. Written in small letters on an inside flap, a scrawled message in what has to be Trever's handwriting. The tight, neat scrawl screams his name.

_Ask the right questions_.

Clever devil. Knowing I'll find nothing else in the box, I pick up the card. It's boring. White. Nothing. No clues. It looks like a credit card and is a similar plastic material as one, but it's totally devoid of marks or writing.

Putting it down, I pick up the key. It looks like a house key.

And my mind begins to work.

It's clean. There's no wear to the teeth. No grime. No fingerprints. Which means it's new. Just made. But it's also unique. The head of the key is shaped like a vista, a mountain. Something nags at my mind. I've seen a key like this. I stand up. Time to get ready to go.

Ten minutes later, I'm leaving the house.

The weather is clear and cold, so I hurry as I walk. I'd admired the new houses that had gone up. One in particular. A house at the end of the cul-de-sac all on its own. An entire acre of dirt and a beautiful house.

But the thing I'd noticed, the keys are a style that's the secret handshake of this subdivision. I know this because Jen and I had considered going halves and renting this house together. At the dark-stained wooden door with its frosted glass panels, I try the key in the lock.

It turns, but the door doesn't open.

And I notice the gray box above the key hole.

Pulling the white card from my pocket, I look for somewhere to stick it. But there's nothing. Staring at the box, I look down at the key in my hand. And wave it in front of the box. Nothing. Turning it over, I try again. Then hold it in front of the box.

And a tiny green light flashes.

The door opens and I step inside.

"Hello?" My voice echoes back at me. The place is empty. Excited, I walk in and close the door. The place is still as beautiful as I remembered. I wander over dark wooden floors and search the place. In the living room, I see a single table. On it, another box.

This one has a note on top.

I want to apologize.

"But show it," I whisper, thinking back to the first time he'd told me that.

I open the box. Inside is a packet of papers that's all legalese. I flip through it, unsure what I'm looking at. Under it is another note.

It says that this house is yours, paid in full.

I blink and glance at the legal papers. That's a summary, I guess. But why is it mine? I look around, seeing the place decorated, as _home_. I imagine the laughter of children playing outside. Of dinner conversations and school functions. Of long nights of love and early morning sunrises just because.

"It's mine," I whisper, clutching the papers to my chest as I scan the empty living room.

The doorbell rings and I jump. Hurrying to the front door, I peek out and see no one. Opening the door, I look down. Another box. Hand delivered; no labels. Scanning the cul-de-sac, I see no one.

My heart thumps as I kneel down and pick up the new box. Opening it, I scan the street and sidewalks again, but still see no one.

Inside the box is another key. A car key.

Inside the flap is a hand drawn line that curves in a half circle, then makes an abrupt right, then stays straight for a long while with several notches before turning right and continuing on. This one is obvious.

Closing the door behind me, I hear it lock and hurry up the sidewalk around the corner where the map begins. A car is parked, a nice minivan SUV crossover. It's brand new and shiny. I hit the unlock button on the fob and it unlocks, flashing its lights.

Inside, I flip the visor. And find another note.

_Smart girl. You make me a better man_.

I can't help but smile. I don't doubt the words. A man who told me he drinks too much told me he drinks less around me. That seems like a step to being a better person. And that's just something I know about. I don't doubt there's a lot below the surface of Mr. Trever Wilder.

I turn over the engine and follow the map.

It leads to a park. A nice place with play structures for kids on one side and walking trails on the other side. A place where a family could grow up. From baby swings to paths for riding bikes and everything in between. Leaving the box behind, I get out and walk up to a table. On it is a silver box I recognize.

On top of the box I see a note.

I told you I had a hunch about you from the very beginning.

Under the note is a receipt. The numbers are blacked out so I can't see the price. But I see the rest clearly. The date, the day I'd bumped into Trever wild for the first time. The day he'd told me _nice tits_. The day my life fell apart.

That day, right around the time I'd been on the phone with mom telling her I couldn't come to dinner, he'd bought something.

Lowering the receipt, I look at the box. It's about the size of a coffee mug. It's actual silver, I'm sure of it and is engraved with beautiful patterns of leaves and swirling lines.

I pick it up, amazed at its weight. It's cold in my fingers. I open it and gasp.

Inside, on deep blue velvet, is a ring.

The band looks like silver and there's a filigree pattern that nestles stones. A large diamond in the center and several glittering diamonds around it. It's not too big, but it is eye catching. And it's beautiful.

"So?"

I turn around and stare at Trever.

"So." I say, breathless. He did all of this... to propose to me?

He gets down on one knee and I feel like I'm going to faint. His voice is soft as he takes my hand. "I can do anything if you're with me."

I stare into his blue eyes. I've been an idiot. I'd been afraid. I let that fear rule me...

"Will you marry me?" he asks, his eyes worried.

And I realize this is torture for him. He can't figure me out. He's putting himself out there. He loves me. I'm standing here saying nothing.

"Yes," I whisper.

He stands up and pulls me into a hug. His lips meet mine and I gasp as his tongue demands mine. I give everything. All of my self. My being. My soul. He can have all of it. Forever.
Chapter Twenty Six

Wild

I wake up and press my lips to her shoulder. She stirs, but only slightly. Yesterday, I'd asked her to marry me. By some miracle, she'd said yes.

And we'd come home and made up and made love.

"Good morning," she whispers.

"Good morning," I say, kissing her again. No matter how many times I had her last night, it was never enough. She rolls over and lifts up on her elbow to kiss me again.

She still tastes like tea and honey and the sweet pastries we'd had only a few hours ago. My body comes alive as she kisses me, her breasts heavy on my ribs as she leans into me. Somehow, I still want more. I should be exhausted, unable to perform.

But no, I'm at attention and ready for her.

As if she knows, she rises up and straddles my hips.

"I'll never get enough of you," I whisper and she gives me a shy smile.

"I'll really be impressed if you're still telling me that in ten years," she says, her sleep-sexy voice amused.

And I make a mental note. She slides down on my cock and all thoughts vacate my mind. The sensation of her wet, hot, tight walls surrounding me still wring a groan from my lips.

My hands find her hips and I let her set the pace. Her fingers comb through her hair and she gathers up the unruly locks. She's quick to secure them out of her face and I drink in the sight of her. Man, she's got amazing tits. Pert, perfect with pretty pink nipples. A tucked in waist but a little extra skin to hold on to. A rounded belly that's absolutely kissable. Child-rearing hips. Sexy perfection and _mine_.

I growl and my fingertips dig into her skin as she moves against me.

She rides me, her eyes locked on mine.

"Naughty girl," I tell her and she tosses her head. "Never wear underwear again unless you have to."

She gasps, looking down at me. "Why?" she asks, her hips rolling as she rides me.

"It drives me crazy."

She smiles, but her expression quickly shifts to shock as I move her.

" _You_ drive me crazy." I grind out the words as her walls milk me.

"Or my tits do," she says.

Lifting my hands to aforementioned amazing breasts, I tease her nipples and she gasps, jolting as she rides me. "Don't stop," she whispers.

I won't.

Her eyes widen and I feel her pussy clench around me.

Gently pinching and tugging her pink nipples, I watch her come undone. And it's fucking sexy. Her lips part like she's going to deny it. Then she shudders, her muscles wringing me tightly as she comes.

My hands find her hips and she continues to move, rocking her hips and bucking as she comes around me.

And I feel my body respond. Heat gathers deep in my balls and I feel it spreading. Before I can think, I'm spilling into her, filling her up.

She collapses on my chest, her heart pounding. Stroking her hair, I realize I'm the luckiest man alive.

"You said you'd tell me more about you," she says.

I think a moment. And start at the beginning.

I tell her _everything_.
Epilogue

Lea

"He's fine," Trever says, his lips meeting mine.

Pulling back, I press my index finger to his lips like I'm shushing him.

"I know, but it's weird not having him in the house," I say. But he laces his fingers with mine. And we're headed toward the bedroom.

"Happy thirty-fourth birthday, lover," he says softly.

"Tired of me yet?" I ask, mostly joking. Part of me can't believe that after ten years of marriage, he still wants me as much as he did at first. Sure, we don't get to get dirty as much because of life, our son.

His hand slips up my shirt and I moan as he teases my nipple to a point. I notice his eyes are locked on me, watching my every reaction closely. He's aged well. The silver at his temples looks good. Even the fine lines settling around his eyes just seem to make him more handsome.

The years have been kinder to him, I'm afraid. I've put on some weight and after the kiddo, well, I don't look like I did ten years ago. Somehow, though, his hunger for me hasn't been diminished by the years, familiarity, or my changes.

His lips meet mine again and I open for him.

That blazing excitement roars through me and I moan into his mouth. And my phone chimes. I can feel him groan as I push him back to answer it. "That's mom," I say, picking it up.

"Hey," I say.

"Hi pumpkin. I wanted to tell you that he's sick. I can take care of him, but I knew you'd want to know."

"We'll pick him up," I say as Mr. Meowington curls between my legs. He mews up at me and I smile down at him. "be there soon."

Ten minutes later, we're at mom and dad's. Eight-year old Allister is passed out on the couch and Trever walks over and scoops him up before planting a kiss on mom's cheek. He carries our son out to the car and I turn to mom. She hugs me.

"Thank you," I say, contentment filling me.

"Another night, when he's not sick," she promises and I nod.

"Love you."

"Love you more, give dad a hug for me," I say and we hug again before I head out to the car. _Dad_. Sure, he became dad to me. But there's this block in my brain as far as Trever is concerned. I never saw him as my step brother.

In the car, I look over at an amused Trever. Without a word, he drives us home and is quick to carry Allister inside. He wakes up long enough to throw up and I get ready to get dirty. It's rough, but I love every bit of being a mom. The good. The bad. The ugly.

An hour later, the pull out couch is out and we're all on it under the covers. Both boys are passed the heck out. Allister's feet are in Trever's back and Trever snores. Mr. Meowington blinks at Trever from the back of the couch before closing his eyes again.

My life is amazing.

Pulling out my phone, I snap a pic and text it.

_Stomach bug?_ Jen texts back.

I respond right away. _Yep. Yours?_

Yep.

That sucks. _Kk, get some sleep,_ I text back. She'll need it with both her kiddos. Those twins never stop and take a breath. She always looks like a tornado has rolled through her life, but I've never seen her so happy.

You too.

Putting my phone down, I feel Trever's hand close around mine. I glance at him, but he's still sound asleep.

"I'll never get enough of you, Lea," he mumbles in his sleep.

I have to hug myself. This can't be real. It's all too perfect.

If you loved this book (or even if you didn't!) please consider leaving a review. It helps other people make informed decision about picking up this book. Thank you!

Other titles by Gabriel:

A New Step

I made my New Year's resolution early because this year sucked.

Start over. Check.

Meet a great guy. Check.

Be ready to kiss when the ball drops. Check.

Everything's going according to plan. Until Jaxon.

Jaxon stopped my New Year's kiss.

Punched out my guy.

_Knew_ me.

Last year sucked, but this year's about to show me what pain really is.

***

**Scroll down to read Chapter One of** _A New Step_ **!**

A Christmas Step

Lauren is coming home for Christmas for the first time since her dad got remarried. What else could she do when dad reminded her he might not have many holidays left?

The problem?

Her sexy step brother, Kurt.

The last time they were in a room together she was sure everything around them was seconds from combustion.

What's a girl to do?

Kurt has spent the last four years trying to fuck away thoughts of his step sister. It hasn't worked, and every year she only seems to have wormed deeper and deeper under his skin. And this year, he's got the cure: get her out of his system the only way he knows how. Sex. And lots of it.

Is it wrong to want her like this? Yes.

Can he help what he wants? No.

***

Dear reader,

I've included chapter one of A New Step as a bonus and possibly a reintroduction to my work. This has been a long journey and I've been given a lot of advice along the way. Some of it has stuck, like writing longer works. Like focusing on the relationship. Like building believable, yet interesting characters.

Thank you for your advice, feedback, or simply for reading this. I couldn't do it without you.

Enjoy!

A New Step

Chapter One

Nora

I didn't run away from home to fall in love with someone else. And even now as Brian towers over me, I just pull the blanket up to my chin and remind myself I don't want to love him. I don't want to love anyone.

"You've got to get out of the house," he says.

I shake my head.

"It's New Year's eve. Let's go somewhere, have a drink, watch the ball drop." His dark eyes study me and I wonder if being with him is really worth all this. I want to stay home. I want to be alone. I want to watch the New Year begin in the safety of my home.

Five minutes of arguing with him is far too long. But maybe I'm not being fair. A relationship is give and take, right? I can't always get my way.

At least he's not pestering me to sleep with him again. I'd much rather go out when I'd planned to stay in than keep turning down his advances and brushing off his _I've never been with someone this long who doesn't put out_ arguments.

I shouldn't have bothered with the boyfriend thing when I moved here. But he'd been so helpful. He lives down a couple doors in my apartment building. He'd helped me move some stuff and he'd been so kind and sweet, quick with compliments and kind with words. He's not a creep or a jerk.

But he just doesn't make me feel like I'm on fire, either. He doesn't make my heart pound or my panties damp. It's not that I'm shallow; it's not his looks. It's just... he doesn't make me feel anything other than a little less alone.

And that's been enough for me up to this point.

With an annoyed grunt, he turns away from me and puts both hands behind his head like he's about to throw a temper tantrum but is desperate to maintain some control of himself. He spins to face me and I try not to roll my eyes at his overreaction.

"Look, if you're not going, I'll go by myself."

Ugh. I don't want this burden. I don't want to be the reason he leaves alone and cheats on me. Or whatever he's hinting at. Throwing the blanket back, I stand up.

"Fine," I say.

With that single word gantlet thrown, I stalk to my bedroom. If he wants to push the fight, let him. He'll be arguing with a wall. Closing and locking the door even though I know how much he hates locked doors, I begin to change. We haven't even had sex, yet he's so very possessive of me. I'd thought it would be sexy, or that it would grow on me, but it's more tiring than anything.

It's not my fault is some guy accidently notices I exist, and I hate Brian's comments about how I must be dressing too sexily or flirting. I'm a grown ass woman who should be able to wear what I please and I don't flirt. Not with him. Not with anyone. I'm not good at it.

And I've called him on those open ended comments like the one he'd used tonight - _Look, if you're not going, I'll go by myself_ – but he just tells me I'm reading too much into it. When I'd told him that saying things like that makes me worry he's going to cheat, he's said I'm projecting. Maybe he's right. It's not like I have a ton of relationship experience to fall back on.

Just one near miss.

Pulling on a cute little black dress, I glance at myself in the mirror. I've put on a few stress eating related pounds. Oh well. I'll hold my chin up high and fucking rock the extra curves. Focusing on my face, I brush on a petal pink eye shadow and a touch of mascara. Sure, Brian likes it when I apply makeup with a heavy hand, but I'm not ashamed of my freckles.

A lifetime ago, another man said they're fucking adorable.

With a sigh, I drag the brush through my hair. How long will he continue to thrust his way back into my thoughts? I'd have given him everything. All he had to do was ask.

And that scared me.

Running was the only option. Because if I stayed, I'd have died a slow, painful death watching him move right along with his life. He was perfect in every sense of the word but we weren't perfect together.

A knock at the door makes my hand hesitate a second as I twist my hair up into some semblance of elegance.

"Nora?" Brian sounds worried.

Staring into my blue eyes, I lick my lips and they go cherry red instantly. With a few pins, I secure my heavy tawny curls. It won't last long, but it'll be pretty while it does.

He knocks again. "Did you go to bed?" he asks.

It's a fair question – I've spent a lot of time hiding in bed – but it annoys me all the same. I said I'd go, didn't I?

"I'll be out in a second," I say.

The door handle rattles and I roll my eyes and sigh. Adjusting the hem of my dress so it's a bit lower on my thighs, I smooth a hand over my hip. It's fine. Slipping into my ballet flats, I decide comfort over height. I'm only five foot four, but Brian is only five seven. Oh, gosh, if I was taller than him he'd spend the night sighing in frustration. And likely ask me why I wanted to badly to humiliate him. I hate heels anyway.

When I pull the door open, Brain seems upset. "You know I hate locked doors," he murmurs and a shiver sneaks down my spine.

"You know I hate being told what to do," I say, locking eyes with him.

He studies me a moment, but his expression is flat. Not angry. Not upset. Nothing. "I didn't tell you what to do," he says in that quiet, measured voice.

This. This is the shit that makes me wonder if he's worth my time. Maybe being a bit lonely would be better. Maybe I'm overreacting. He's not cruel. He doesn't hit me or anything. He's calm with me. He doesn't try to push too hard when I say no to sex. He could be so much worse. Maybe time will help us smooth this out. It takes time to learn to share space with people, right?

I decide not to argue with him. Because he's right. He didn't tell me not to lock the doors. He's merely stated – on multiple occasions – that he hates locked doors.

"You're right, I'm sorry," I say.

The second I relent, he's warm. He pulls me into a hug and I freeze as his hand pets the back of my arm. "I know the last few weeks have been rough for you," he says in my ear. "That's why I wanted to do this. I want something nice for us tonight. I want to take you out and be your first kiss of the New Year."

The words are sweet, but something's leaving me on edge. Maybe it's the date. Maybe it's the memories from this time last year. My almost kiss.

Because that guy I love almost kissed me last year. I'd stared at him in shock as he leaned in. My heart had galloped in my chest and I'd felt faint. He'd hesitated a breath away from my lips, studied my eyes, and then planted a delicate kiss on my cheek. The sweet gesture felt like a stab to the heart.

That's got to be what's bringing me down this year.

"That'll be nice," I say.

The words are flat and I feel like I'm only going through the motions. Brian doesn't get my heart racing. He doesn't make me faint with excitement. His kisses don't feel like ignition.

His eyes sweep down me and back up before he says, "You look good."

I'm glad he's not liberal with the compliments. I couldn't handle being worshiped right now. I can hardly handle being touched.

About the Author

Gabriel Love is a firefighter with a talent for wordplay. He's no stranger to heat and loves bringing fire to his romance novels. His best ideas come during his daily five mile run on the treadmill, though he searches for inspiration everywhere. He's a sucker for anything sweet, sexy, and has a secret passion for star-crossed lovers.

You can connect with Gabriel online: Email: writegabriellove@gmail.com

Or join his Facebook group for sneak peeks, cover reveals, Q&A sessions, and more!

