Mine: A Stepbrother Romance: (With bonus novel Bossy!) (54 page)

The last thing I hear from Gavin is a frustrated groan, “You've gotta be fucking kidding me!”

I shut the door behind me, finally taking the time to slip my dress back on before hitting the down button on the elevator. I push it over and over like it’ll come faster that way, praying he doesn’t come out before I’m gone.

Good job, Angie. Good freaking job.
I can’t even get no-pressure sex right.

My senses are all focused at his door, waiting for it to open, but it doesn’t sound like he’s following. In fact, I hear the heavy metallic click of a lock. It’s an angry, accusative sound that makes my heart ache even though I should be glad he’s letting me go with nothing but a few well-earned insults.

The elevator dings, a soft, pleasant chime that’s in total contrast to how I’m feeling, then I’m inside, my stomach surging as I start the slow descent back to reality.

I’m never listening to Cassie again.

Chapter 3: Angie

“S
o.” Mom looks at me from across the kitchen table, the corners of her soft eyes crinkled in concern. The delicious smell of dinner cooking in the oven fills the room, though I hardly notice, lost in my own thoughts.

It’s been almost three weeks since The Incident, as I’ve come to think of it, and I’ve been on edge since, hardly leaving the house. I’ve hardly spoken to Paul, though he’s called a couple of times, wanting me to come over. Mostly to fool around, I think. I just don’t know how to face him after what I did, or almost did, depending on how you look at it. One stupid night, and now suddenly everything feels weird and wrong.

I’m sure Mom’s noticed, but I haven’t brought it up and she’s let me be. I doubt that’s what she wants to talk about, though. She’s never liked Paul anyway. Not even Cassie knows exactly what happened that night, since I haven’t been willing to talk to her either. It’s stupid to be mad at her, since it’s not like she forced me out on my one-night-stand attempt at gunpoint or anything. I still am, though.

I put down my book and meet Mom’s gaze with raised eyebrows, trying to forget about my messed up life for a few minutes and inviting her to continue.

“You remember Herbert, right?” She’s playing with the hem of her shirt nervously. Usually that means she’s going to tell me something I don’t like, or that she’s nervous. It doesn’t happen often though, and I get a funny feeling about this conversation. “The man who’s been visiting my flower shop.”

Yeah, I remember him. The guy she’s been seeing for a few months now, even if she refuses to come out and say it. I think it’s kind of cute.

Mom’s got a little shop that she’s been running for years. It’s not doing that great. Everything was good for a couple of years, but then the neighborhood gentrified, rent skyrocketed, and some unexpected maintenance killed her budget. She might have to close, which is really too bad. Me and that shop are her whole world, and I’m about to head off to college.

Herbert is a super-rich CEO type. Apparently he came in one day to buy a bouquet, and somehow they hit it off. It sounds like something out of a cheesy romcom, but she’s happy, so I hope it lasts. She’s been alone a long time.

Four years, eighty-two days, but who’s counting?

I put on an encouraging smile. “Yeah, sure. Well, not that you’ve let me meet him yet. Why, what’s up?” This is it, right? When she finally admits they’re a couple? I get why she’d be nervous, but this seems over the top.

She smiles, but it doesn’t take away any of the anxiousness. Her fingers have left her dress, but now they’re tapping a tattoo on the table, her long nails clacking quickly on the imitation wood. Her anxiety brings it out in me too, and I have to consciously keep my fingers in place so I don’t do the same as her. She’s about to spring something big.

Straightening in her chair, she chews her lip nervously. “Angie. This is going to seem really sudden.” She clears her throat. “You know I loved your father. I still do, but he’s been gone four years.”

Oh God, she had to go
there
. Even now, my chest gets tight. I was fourteen when it happened, but it hurts just as much now as it did then. Dad was a hot shot helicopter pilot in the Navy, but after flying who knows how many missions in Iraq, he was given the option to come home and become an instructor and he jumped at the chance.

We’d been so happy. He’d finally be home with us and we could be a normal family. Then a few years later, he led what was supposed to be a routine exercise, teaching a couple of students to fly in formation. They were barely off the pads when one of the helicopters veered into his and they both hit the ground.

Nobody survived.

It’s ironic. All that time praying for him overseas in combat, and it was some green kid at the academy who ruined it all. We knew there were always risks with flying, but it doesn’t mean I miss him any less.

Mom watches me silently, probably knowing what I’m thinking, and waiting for me to give her my attention again. It was hard for both of us. I swallow back the big lump in my throat, then give her a slight nod.

“After I met Herbert... well, I’ve begun to remember some of the things I missed. Having a partner, someone to confide in, to be close to.” She notices my sharp look. “Honey, of course we’re a team. You also fill a lot of those roles, but it’s not the same. You’re about to set out and start your life for real. The thought of my little girl moving out breaks my heart.” She smiles fondly. “But I’m also so proud of you. My baby, going to college. Pre-med, no less.”

God, this lump’s just getting bigger. Dad. Mom gushing. If this is just the lead up to her big revelation, I’m in trouble. Whatever she has on her heart, I don’t think it’s going to make the lump any smaller.

She puts her hand on my knee. “Herbert will never replace your father, but, he’s beginning to fill some of those roles. Faster than I would’ve thought possible. He’s strong, and possessive and caring, and... and I’ve fallen in love with him.” Her eyes are wide and teary, she’s so nervous. She knows how much I miss Dad.

It does hurt a bit, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so terrified, so I hurry to smile. It’s not like I wasn’t expecting it sooner or later. “That’s great, Mom. Really.” It’s true. She does need someone, and I can’t be that person. It’s not the same. But he’s not Dad. “I’m happy for you.”

Her relief is obvious, the way her shoulders and face relax, the way she eases back a bit in her chair. She swallows thickly. “That’s not everything.” Licking her lips, she picks her words carefully. “Herbert proposed to me last night.”

My heart stops, and I can almost feel the blood draining from my face. Dating, sure. Overnights, awkward but fine. Proposed? She has to be kidding me. It slowly dawns on me that she wouldn’t me telling me this if she’d said no. I look at Mom expectantly, willing her to continue. “And...”

She closes her eyes briefly. “And... I said yes. I’m sorry, hon, I should’ve spoken to you first. It’s just the two of us now, and I shouldn’t have—”

“Mom!” She looks up, startled. Sure, I’m freaked out, but if she’s found happiness, then it’s definitely not my place to get in the way, even if I’m screaming inside. This is going to require some serious thought later, but for now I put on the biggest grin I can and throw my arms around her neck. “I’m so happy for you. Congratulations!”

“Really? You’re sure? You have no idea how terrified I’ve been to tell—”

“Yes!” I cling to her. I am happy. Concerned, but happy. “You deserve it, Mom. But he better not try to make me call him Dad or anything, alright?” I try to sound like I’m joking, but I’m not really.

Apparently I don’t hide it well enough. Mom peels me off her and puts me at arm’s reach. She looks me in the eyes like she always does when she’s being earnest. “Never. You guys will have to find your own relationship and what works for you. I’m just terrified that you’ll think I made a huge mistake.”

I shake my head softly. “No, Mom. So long as you’re happy, I’ll be happy. That’s the only requirement I have for him. That he makes you happy.” I’ve never been good at strict, but I frown and try to look serious. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll take him out.”

She gives me that look. The one where she’s not sure if I’m joking or not. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, alright?” A smile passes between us, and everything’s good again. Then the doorbell rings.

“Expecting someone?”

Mom gets up to answer the door. She stops, smooths down her skirt and checks herself in the mirror. She usually wears a little makeup, but I suddenly realize it’s more than usual. And how did I miss those bright red lips?

“I asked him over for dinner. I thought it’d be a good chance for you guys to get to know each other better.” She pauses for a minute. “Oh, he has a son. I should’ve mentioned that. He’s a bit rough around the edges from what I’ve seen, but Herbie insists that he’s a good guy underneath it all. So you’ll have a stepbrother now, too.” She throws me a brief smile, then hurries to the front door.

Herbie
? And a stepbrother? She definitely could’ve mentioned that earlier. Not that it changes how I feel about anything, but I like to have all the facts so I can prepare. I got that from Dad, I think. Him and his checklists. I stand, take a deep breath and smooth down my shirt. Alright, let’s get this over with. A brother might not be bad. I’d always wanted a sibling. Better late than never I guess.

Their voices carry through the house from the entry. Herbert’s voice is deep and gravelly, like he used to smoke. Or still does, I suppose, but that doesn’t sound like Mom’s type. I give them a moment to say their hellos before I approach.

“Hello... um...” I just realize I have no idea what to call him.

He smiles warmly, his face looking strangely familiar. Square jaw, deep hazel eyes. He holds out his hand. “Herbert’s fine. You must be Angela.”

I take it. “Just Angie. Thanks.”

“You give your girl a nice name, but will she use it?”

Mom’s always disliked me shortening my name, but Angela makes me feel like I’m eighty. Maybe because she named me after her great aunt Angela who used to make me watch Jeopardy marathons. Given her use of
Herbie
earlier, it really feels like a double standard.

Herbert takes a step to the side. “I’d like you to meet my son, Gavin, the heir apparent to my financial empire. A bit of a rebellious streak, but I’m working on it.” He smirks in a scarily familiar way.

My jaw drops. No way. No fucking way. The floor drops out from under me at the mention of his name. This isn’t happening. No wonder his facial structure looks so familiar. Like father, like son.

Like my new stepbrother, who I almost fucked just three weeks ago. He puts his hand out like his dad did, his gorgeous eyes locked to mine. He’s grinning broadly, obviously thinking this is the funniest thing in the world. “Hi there, Sis.”

I stand still so long that Mom gives me a bump with her elbow. Her whisper is a hiss, though I’m sure they all hear it. “Angela.”

Like a rusty robot, I raise my arm stiffly and take his, remembering the rough feel of his large hands all over me as I shake it briefly. Even that short touch sends sparks racing up the skin of my arms. I should say something, but I’ve no idea what.

“Hi.” That’s all I get out, then I just stand there like an idiot.

Mom gives me a confused we’ll-talk-about-this-later look, but she shoves me aside and makes room for our visitors. “Come in, come in. I’ve got a roast cooking in the oven, with potato gratin and asparagus to go with it. It should be done in twenty minutes or so.” She practically drags Herbert towards the living room, leaving me alone with Gavin.

Chapter 4: Angie

“W
ell, how’s this for a surprise?” Gavin laughs out loud, a rumble in his powerful chest. “And here I thought you were gone from my life for good.”

I finally find my words, hissing them between my teeth. “Fine, laugh it up. But not a word about this to anyone. You eat, we stay pleasant, and then you leave. You understand?”

“I don’t know, babe. I’m not nearly as good at leaving as you are. Will you teach me how? Besides, this is like destiny. Karma. It’s like God decided to give me a second chance.” His voice drips with sarcasm. He strikes his arms out, smiling broadly. “Beautiful Angie, delivered right into my arms.” Closing in until his nose is only an inch from mine, he whispers loudly. “What do you think? Should we do it in your bed? That’d be hot.”

The image of the two of us in my bed, him naked and above me flashes through my mind. I must’ve given something away, because his smile broadens knowingly. He’s so frustrating. I want to smack him right in the face, but I hold back. This isn’t the time to make a scene. Also, he doesn’t seem to care if anyone finds out that he almost boned his stepsister, but I do, and I don’t want him to have any excuse to blab.

Instead, I try to reason. “Gavin. If anyone finds out that we almost... well, you know, then—”

“Almost what? I think you need to explain it more clearly.” He laughs, enjoying my misery. “Did we almost do something three weeks ago? My memory’s a bit fuzzy. I think you have to be more specific.”

So much for reasoning. “You’re a prick, Gavin.” Turning on my heels, I stomp out of the entry, leaving him laughing behind me. Why did it have to be him? And why is my heart pounding like a jackhammer?

* * * * *

I
’m so nervous I can barely eat, but Gavin’s a totally different person at dinner. He’s well spoken, respectful, polite, friendly... and only I seem to realize that it’s all a sham. With a long sleeved and collared shirt on, his ink isn’t visible anywhere. The hair that was so wild three weeks ago is combed neatly and gelled into place. I want to scream that this isn’t really who he is, but who’s going to believe me? And what would that do, other than ruin dinner?

I sigh. This is supposed to be Mom’s night, where she gets to bask in being newly engaged. I shouldn’t be messing it up. If he can pretend, then I can too. Swallowing my dislike, I close my eyes for a moment before I engage in the conversation. Mom smiles in relief, her shoulders relaxing. This isn’t going to be easy.

Other books

Cambio. by Paul Watzlawick
Surrender by June Gray
A Harum-Scarum Schoolgirl by Angela Brazil
Undeniable by Madeline Sheehan
Tear Tracks by Malka Older
Imperfections by Bradley Somer