Mine: A Stepbrother Romance: (With bonus novel Bossy!) (25 page)

“Have I mentioned I love you lately?”

“Hold that thought.” He reaches under the table, drawing out a large rectangular package and offering it to me.

I take it, shooting him a confused look. “Were we supposed to bring gifts?”

Hunter, Mr. Cool himself, looks nervous. “This is... just open it.”

At first I try to be dainty about it, but I can’t get the tape off, so I just rip it open. Inside is the map of the island, back safe and sound in its frame. “Um, thank you?”

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Turn it over.”

The front looks the same, but the back has been replaced with a glass pane so the old deed and the signatures of my sea-going ancestors are visible. “Oh! That’s beautiful, I—” At the bottom, my name is added, penned in a flowing script, but only my first and middle names. There’s room for a last name, so now it just looks unfinished.

I turn to ask, when I find Hunter on one knee beside me. The question dies on my lips, unasked.

“Elizabeth Lindsay Bissette.” He swallows, and this time I know it’s for real. No joke, no setup, no camera crew. Just him and me. He wets his lips and continues. “Will you do me the honor of becoming Elizabeth Lindsay Campbell?”

You’d think having more or less gone through this once before, I’d be less of a mess, but nope. Not even close. Tears stream down my cheeks and I’m all choked up. I have a hard time getting the word out.

Whether he’s giving me time, or just unsure that I believe him this time, he smiles gently and pulls a small box out of his pocket. He flips the lid open and shows me its contents. It’s beautiful. Lying on a little white pedestal is a pearl ring that reflects the warm light of the restaurant. It looks antique and custom made with small, sparkling diamonds elegantly worked into the setting.

It’s perfect.

He’s perfect.

The word finally falls out of me.

“Yes!”

— 1
0 years later —

“Cate! Watch out for Fool’s Drop!”

“It’s not here, stupid. It’s further in. Daddy showed me last week.”

“No, it’s right over there. Behind those ferns.”

“Cate, Jordan is right. Now watch your step over there. It’s a long way down.” One day the kids will be old enough that I trust them out here by themselves, but today isn’t it. Still, I was about their age when I started exploring on my own. Maybe Cate now that she’s eight, but anywhere she goes, Jordan bounces after, and there’s no way I’m trusting a six-year-old to take care of himself out here, especially one who’s as likely to get into trouble as mine. He takes after his father, that’s for sure.

I was certainly never that reckless. Nope.

Though I suppose Mom wouldn’t agree. At least back when she was sober enough to keep an eye on me. She’s not exactly in the running for grandmother of the year, but she’s trying. Sober for seven years now, and we’d never have gotten there without Hunter’s help. For not liking her very much, it’s amazing how many strings he found to pull to get her the right help. I can’t for the life of me figure out why she insists on continuing to live up north, but she claims to enjoy the snow. I always knew she was crazy.

Speaking of Hunter, I wonder if he’s home yet.  Sometimes I wish the kids were a little older, because it would be nice to get more time to ourselves again.

“Jordan, come here! It’s a snake!”

“Oh cool!”

“What? Stay away from that!” Snapping out of it, I jog after to double check.

“It’s not going to hurt you, Mom.” Cate rolls her eyes at me, looking eerily like her father. “Unless you’re a frog. Then he might eat you up!”

“He eats frogs? Ew!” My son makes a face.

“Of course he does. To snakes, they’re delicious! Like ice cream, but um... slimier.” My daughter, the princess of imagery.

I laugh, but make sure to keep plenty of room between me and the slithering reptile. “How about we leave him alone and head back to the house.”

“Already? We barely got out here.”

“Sorry, Jordan. It’s almost dinner time. Besides, Dad’s probably back by now, and I bet he’d love to hear about the snake.”

“Do you think so? Do you have your phone? Can we take a picture?”

They look at me with wide blue eyes just like Hunter’s, though Jordan’s dark curls are pure me.

“Sure, I’ll just—” I’m trying to figure out how to frame a good shot without getting close enough to have a panic attack when a shout saves the day.

“Are there any pirates around? Because I have all this treasure and it would sure be a shame if I had to take it all for myself.”

The kids screech and run off, snake forgotten. I take a picture from here. Glancing at the screen, you can just about tell it’s in there somewhere. Because I know they’re going to ask later.

Hunter is on the terrace, being grilled by excited kids as I walk up the lawn. He stands up and smiles at me. Just like always, my knees go a little weak, and heat snakes its way through my body. The kids busy themselves with checking out what he brought from Tortola, and he grabs the opportunity to wrap an arm around me and squeeze my ass.

“Hey, watch it.” I double check to make sure the kids aren’t paying attention and give his nipple a twist.

“Ow. Fuck.”

I elbow him. “Language, dear. We have kids now, remember?”

“Like I could forget it.” He laughs, holding me closer.

Nuzzling into him, I love the feel of his warm skin against my face while I gaze out over the water. No matter how long I live here, I don’t think I’m ever going to tire of the view, or the company. “Mmm... you feel good.”

His hand slides up my side until his thumb brushes the underside of my breast “Mmm... you too.”

I dance away with a giggle. “Later. When the kids are asleep.”

He sighs melodramatically. “It’s a hard life.”

Laughing, I let him pull me in for a kiss. Just when it’s getting good, the kids decide to remember we exist.

“Eeewww! Daddy’s kissing mommy!” Two voices giggle behind us.

Ignoring them, he doesn’t let up for several more seconds. No one’s going to claim that the kids didn’t grow up in a loving household. When he finally lets me up for air, he holds me in a hug. “So Dad’s got a new idea for a TV show...”

“Not interested.” I look up at him with a grimace. “So not interested.”

“He’s pretty sure this is going to be the big one.” Hunter’s eyes shine with amusement.

“Good for him. That sounds great, so long as it doesn’t involve the island, us, our kids, or anyone we know.” I burrow into his chest, snuggling against him.

Hunter laughs. “Sounds good to me. I’m sure he’s got Amanda wrapped up in his crazy scheme anyway. Between the two of them, there’s no need for us to make a mess of things.” I nod in agreement as he turns to the kids. “Want to help me put everything away before dinner? If you’re lucky, there might be something in there for you.”

The kids’ faces light up, and they pick up the bags, even if Jordan has to drag his along the floor. For now, they’re still young enough that helping is a treat instead of a chore. I’m sure that’ll change sooner than I want, but for now it’s cute.

“Maybe we should invite Danny and Bianca over. They haven’t visited in over a year. Lucy and Ella must be getting big.” Their twin daughters came right between our two, and they’ve always played well together. “God knows, Cate and Jordan don’t see kids their own age nearly often enough.”

Hunter smiles. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go see how dinner’s doing.”

Second chances like mine don’t come around very often. I’m going to cling to this one and make sure none of this slips through my fingers ever again. Luckily, Hunter doesn’t seem to have inherited his father’s asshole gene. This time, I think it’ll stick.

It was a crazy time, and it’s been a crazy ten years since too, but we’re still here. As I look out over the ocean from the terrace where so much had happened, I smile. The azure water washes up on the most perfect white beach, the rising tide threatening a small city of sand castles. They were nice, but we’ll build new ones tomorrow.

I follow my husband into the house, admiring his tight ass, and marveling at how lucky I am to have gotten everything I ever wanted, and more.

I’ve found my paradise, and it’s not mine.

It’s ours.

Bossy

A Stepbrother Romance

I
’m too young to feel this old.

Throbbing dance music blasts through the crappy frat speakers so loud it sounds like it’s playing through a vat of oatmeal. I can’t believe the plaster hasn’t been shaken right off the grimy walls yet.

Even so, someone’s shrill voice cuts through, “Where the hell is she? Let me in! I know she’s in there.”

While I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing in this shithole, some jackass is desperate to get in, holding the door open. If he wasn’t screeching like a little girl I probably wouldn’t even be able to hear him. I wish I fucking couldn’t. He’s whiny, he’s annoying and worst of all, he’s driving all the hot chicks that are keeping this party bearable away by letting in the cold air. He could at least close the fucking door.

A couple of not-quite-falling-down-drunk frat thugs are trying to keep him out, but it’s like watching toddlers fight in a sandbox. Lots of pushing, shoving and yelling but nobody can land a punch to save their lives.

If he’d been sober, he could’ve pushed right by them, but the fifth of Jack in his hand is almost empty, and that shit had to have gone somewhere. By the slur in his whiny voice and the way he sways while trying to stay upright, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where.

I’d laugh if it wasn’t fucking February and cold enough to freeze my balls off. If they don’t settle this soon, and by that I mean in like the next five seconds, I’m going to settle it for them, just so I can defrost my nads.

Eventually he gives up trying to get in, and just yells at the top of his lungs, “Claire! You can’t fucking kick me out like this!” He’s not even wearing a jacket, but maybe he doesn’t have anything left to freeze off. Sounds like he’s already handed his manhood over to some chick.

Jesus Christ, what the hell am I even doing here?

Were our frat parties always this lame, or has my chapter just turned into the reject pile in the years since I graduated? They used to be fun. It’s supposed to be an alumni party, but I don’t recognize anyone. Maybe all my old buddies knew something I didn’t.

Fuck this.

There’s nothing for me here other than free watery beer, and now I can’t even drink
that
in peace. Sure, these are my old stomping grounds, but I’m starting to remember why I was so goddamn glad to get outta here. Fucking Neanderthals.

“I know you’re in there!”

Oh for fuck’s sake. He’s still going, and his voice is like nails on chalkboard.

That’s it.

Slamming my beer down on the makeshift plywood coffee table, I pull myself to my feet. I crack my fingers and loosen up my neck. Anyone who gets between me and the damn door is going to get their ass handed to them. It’s been a few years since I stepped into a ring, but I’m pretty sure I can still flatten any of these idiots.

That’s when I see
her,
floating through the room like a fucking angel.

Fuck, she’s hot. Deep red hair. Button nose and sexy, full blowjob lips. And shit, her curves. They go for miles. Her perfect tits threaten to spill out of her tight top, while her short, loose skirt flutters like it’s just asking me to flip it up to show off that gorgeous ass.

This whole night might end up worth it if it involves her, my dick, and a whole lot of screaming my name. When I let her up for air that is.

Change of plan. I’d rather fuck than fight.

She’s coming towards me, and I spring into action, putting my hand out and flashing her my widest spread-your-legs-for-me smile. It’s a well-practiced move, and one that’s been scientifically proven to drop panties. Except this time. She strides right past me, like I’m not even there, leaving my hand hanging.

Well, there’s a blow to the old ego. What the fuck?

“Michael, shut up.” Her voice is vibrating with anger, and loud enough to compete with the heavy bass. Even pissed off, there’s an underlying musicality to it, a sweetness that I want to taste, to savor. Alright, so maybe I’m hearing what I want to hear, because there’s nothing sweet about the ice cold glare she aims at the drunk trying to get in. It’s even colder than the outside.

His eyes snap to her with the intense tunnel vision of someone who’s completely wasted, then widen in recognition. The furious goddess who just floated past me must be Claire. How the fuck did a sexy piece of ass like her ever end up with a jackass like this dork?