Stepbrother Backstage (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 3) (26 page)

“Don’t you just love it?” Mom asks rapturously, doing a
little spin around the great room. Her long bohemian skirts fans out around
her, the bangles around her wrists jangling. “Every single detail was
handpicked. John really does have incredible taste. And not just in design,
either. You should see the wine cellar—”

“John?” I cut her off sharply, “Who’s John?”

“Oh!” she exclaims, her hand flying to her chest, “You
haven’t met John yet! He was here just a second ago…”

“OK, but who is he?” I ask again, trailing my mom as she
peers around the ground floor.

“He owns the house,” Mom replies distractedly. “He built it,
actually. Incredible, right?”

“Yeah. Sure. So, what is this—like a house share or
something?” I ask, exasperated, “Is he running a B&B, or—?”

“Here he is!” Mom cries out, clapping her hands together as
the door to the porch swings open into the kitchen. 

The man who steps inside has to stoop to keep from smacking
his head on the door frame. He’s absolutely huge—at least 6’ 5”, and built like
an ox. His arms and legs are bulky with muscle, his stance combative. His face
is halfway hidden beneath a thick brown beard, flecked with white. His defined
brow is deeply creased, and his resting expression is a standoffish scowl. But
the second he sees the four Porter woman standing around the kitchen, his eyes
crinkle into a benevolent, if reserved, smile.

“The whole brood is finally here,” says the enormous man,
shucking off his green baseball cap now that he’s inside.

“Yep!” my Mom chirps happily, “Maddie, this is John. John,
Maddie.”

“Nice to meet you, Maddie,” he says, extending his free hand
to me.

“And you,” I offer, as John’s plowshare of a hand swallows
mine whole. “It’s a pleasure I wasn’t expecting. I actually didn’t realize
there would be anyone but us Porter ladies here.”

John lets my hand drop, glancing back at my mother. “Didn’t
you tell them?” he asks.

“I could have sworn I mentioned it…” Mom drawls, her
freckled forehead furrowing slightly. “At least, I meant to.”

“It’s totally cool,” I go on, “I just didn’t realize, is
all. Mom’s never been a huge stickler for details.”

“That’s our Robin for you,” John says with a short laugh,
looking warmly at my mom. She gives him a little bump with her hip, clucking
her tongue at him. I glance at my sisters with raised eyebrows, but they don’t
look as surprised as I feel. Why do I get the sense that I’m still lacking some
information here?

“So. How did this house sharing arrangement come about?” I
ask, as my mom goes to the fridge and produces a pitcher of lemonade.

“Well,” John says, sitting down at the long kitchen table
and kicking off his boots, “Your mom and I go way back. We both grew up here,
you know. Went all the way through high school together before she pissed off
to the big city.”

“I hardly call going to art school ‘pissing off’, but that’s
the gist of it,” Mom laughs airily, setting the pitcher down before John, who
helps himself to a glass. “When I decided to come back here and get in touch
with my roots, John was one of the first people I reached out to. He’s one of
my oldest, best friends.”

“That’s one way to put it,” John cuts in, wiping his mouth
with the back of his hand. “To tell you the truth, your mom here was my One Who
Got Away.”

“Huh,” I say flatly, as Sophie tries not to laugh at my
surprise, “That’s…interesting. And now you’re, uh, renting out part of this
house to her? To us?”

“Renting?” John says, looking almost offended, “I’d never
take money from a friend. Especially not this one. Your mother’s been staying
here at the house as my guest. And now you girls are, too.”

There it is. The little piece of information that changes
the entire nature of this getaway—the less-than-pleasant surprise I knew would
be waiting in store for me, courtesy of my mother. She hasn’t just been
visiting her hometown these past few months—she’s been living here with an
enigmatic mountain man, who seems to have quite the thing for her. And from the
way she’s beaming at him across the kitchen table, I can only assume the
feeling is mutual.

“There’s one last free bedroom waiting for you upstairs,”
Mom tells me, completely oblivious to my displeasure with her. “Between your
sisters and John’s boys, we’re at full capacity now!”

“Oh…You have kids, too?” I ask John, trying to keep up with
all the new developments going off like firecrackers around me. On top of
everything else, there are going to be a bunch of rug rats underfoot?

“Yeah,” John says, heaving a deep sigh as he settles back in
his chair, “They’re all around here somewhere. Could never keep track of ‘em,
to be perfectly honest.”

“Right,” I smile weakly, trying to keep calm, “I, uh…I’m
just gonna step out back and get some air, OK? See the rest of the property.”

“Take your time!” my mom says cheerfully, “You’re on
vacation, after all. Relax. I’ll get started on dinner in a bit.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” I hiss at Sophie as I pass her on
the way to the back door.

“You got as much warning as any of us,” she replies,
following me outside. Anna’s already disappeared somewhere, as she always does.

I shut the patio door tightly behind me and shove a hand
through my dark blonde hair.

“What the hell is going on?” I whisper, glancing back at Mom
and John mooning over each other at the kitchen table.

“Mom’s having a little love affair, I guess,” Sophie shrugs,
“I didn’t particularly like finding out this way, but—”

“With him?!” I cut her off, “I mean, look at him! He’s like,
a lumberjack or something. He’s not her type at all.”

“He’s a contractor, not a lumberjack,” Sophie corrects me,
“And we don’t know what her type is, if she has one. We only ever saw her with
Dad.”

“Exactly,” I reply fiercely, feeling suddenly close to
tears, “She loved Dad more than anything. Smart, funny, put-together Dad. This
guy is nothing like him.”

“Maybe that’s part of the appeal,” Sophie says, walking
ahead of me down the patio steps that lead toward the lake. “Mom obviously came
back here to take her mind off losing Dad. It makes sense that she’s drawn to
someone totally unlike him.”

“How can you be so calm about this?!” I exclaim, catching
her slender wrist in my hand and turning her around to face me. “Dad just died,
Sophie. This is—”

“Dad died three years ago,” she says firmly, doling out the
tough love I always need and never want from her. “We need to support Mom in
trying to move on. We need to try and move on ourselves too, Maddie. Especially
you.”

“It’s not like I haven’t been trying,” I say softly, my
voice cracking with emotion. I feel the fight go out of me as anger gives way
to upset. Fat, salty tears start to roll down my cheeks, and I feel Sophie’s arms
enclose me.

“Hey now,” she says, her voice warm and soothing, “I know
you’ve been trying. I know. Just breathe, Maddie.”

“God, I miss him,” I whisper, letting my head rest on my
little sister’s shoulder.

“We all do,” she says, brushing the hair away from my face.
“And we probably always will. But we’ve still got to try our best to be happy,
right?”

“When did you get all rational and wise and shit?” I ask
her, laughing through tears.

“Drama school is basically one carefully controlled nervous
breakdown,” she says, matter-of-factly, “I’ve worked through a lot of shit. You
should try taking a clown class—it does wonders for your world view.”

“I have no idea whether you’re joking or not,” I say,
shaking my head.

“Me either,” she smiles, brushing a tear off my cheek. “Now
pull yourself together. I think we have company.”

My ears perk up as the sound of a revving engine floats
across the lawn. Sophie and I look over toward a wide path leading off into the
woods—the sound seems to be coming from over there. As we watch, a cloud of
dust starts advancing on us from afar, at the center of which is a black ATV.

“Bet that’s one of John’s boys,” Sophie says, narrowing her
eyes.

“That’s hardly a boy,” I point out. I’d been assuming that
his sons would be kids for some reason, but the person atop that growling
machine is a grown man. And that hardly puts me at ease. “Have you met them
yet?”

“No,” she says, rolling her eyes, “I guess they don’t care
much for the company of women. They’ve been making themselves scarce since I
got here yesterday. This one showed up just before you, hopped on an ATV, and
took off into the woods.”

“Charming,” I mutter, crossing my arms as the ATV roars our
way.

“He doesn’t seem to be slowing down…” I hear Anna say from
over my shoulder. I jump at her sudden appearance behind me.

“We need to get you a cowbell or something,” I tell her,
watching as the loud machine comes charging out of the woods, headed our way.

“Is he going to stop?” Sophie asks, backing away as the ATV
bears down.

“I have no idea,” I reply, grabbing Anna’s hand and yanking
her out of its path. She may be a legal adult, but I’ll never stop thinking of
her as a kid I need to protect.

The three of us let out high-pitched shrieks as the vehicle
turns sharply in our direction. It skids out in a clear arc, tearing up the
cultivated grass in its wake, sending pebbles and dirt flying at us as we cover
our faces. I glare up heatedly as the engine cuts out, displaced bits of lawn
settling all around us.

“What the hell was that!” I cry out as the towering figure
swings himself down from the ATV. “Last I checked, running over your
houseguests isn’t exactly good manners.”

John’s son turns his helmeted face in my direction, though I
can’t see his eyes through the visor. He’s nearly as tall as his dad, and wears
a simple black tee shirt with dark jeans. For a long moment, he stands
perfectly still, just staring at me. What is this, some kind of intimidation
technique? Trying to show me who
’
s
boss around here? I lift my chin defiantly, unwilling
to give any ground. He raises his arms to lift off the helmet…and it’s only
then that I notice his full sleeve of tattoos. Before I can process another
thought, he removes the helmet and shakes out his dark curly hair, backlit by
the crystal blue lake. His unmistakable hazel eyes bore mercilessly into mine.

“
You
wanna talk about manners?” Cash growls at me,
his gorgeous features hard and unreadable.

“Oh shit,” I whisper, feeling the breath rush out of my
lungs. Just when I thought this vacation couldn’t get any more twisted…

I gape up into Cash Hawthorne’s stony face, attempting to
wrap my mind around what the fuck, exactly, is happening here.

“What…How are you…What?” I stammer, as the figment from last
night’s salacious dream takes a swinging step my way.

“Didn’t mean to spook you,” he says, lips twisting into an
unconvincing smile. “You city girls are awfully jumpy.”

“And you country boys are hard to track down,” Sophie says
from over my shoulder, “Which of John’s boys are you?”

“I’m Cash,” he replies, his hard eyes still trained on
me. 

“I’m Sophia,” she tells him flatly, “The doe-eyed one is
Annabel. And the short one right there is—”

“Madeleine,” I say softly, holding out my hand for Cash to
shake. I’m embarrassed to see that it’s trembling, “Madeleine Porter”.

Cash glances down at my hand, then back up at my face, his
wry smile unflinching. Even I’m baffled by my outstretched hand—pretending not
to know him was my first instinct. But did I just do something egregiously wrong?

“Right,” Cash says, ignoring my hand completely.

“Let’s… go see if Mom needs any help in the kitchen,” Anna
suggests, looping her arm through Sophie’s.

“God yes,” Sophie mutters, turning to go, “Hell, we could
use a knife to cut through all this male ego clogging up the air.” 

My little sisters hurry back into the house, leaving me
squared off against Cash, the man I spent last night fucking every which way.
The man who also happens to be the son of my mom’s one-time—and likely
present-day—fling. The man who is currently looking at me in such a way that
tells me I seriously missed the mark with my morning-after etiquette.

“I think I need to sit down…” I say quietly, feeling my
knees turn to water.

“Suit yourself,” Cash shrugs, shaking out his sweat-slicked
curls. “You’re our house guest. Apparently.” 

“This is your house…” I echo, trying to make any of this
sink in. “But then what…what were you doing at that bar last night? If you live
here, I mean?”

“I don’t live here,” Cash says impatiently.

“But you just said—“

“My dad asked my brothers and I to come out here for a
couple of weeks. Bit of male bonding or some shit,” he cuts me off, “I was on
my way here when I stopped for a drink. Same as you, I imagine.”

“So…Did know anything about this?” I ask him, sinking down
onto the porch steps. “About us being here? About me—?”

“What do you think?” Cash shoots back.

“I don’t
know
what I think, that’s why I’m asking
you,” I reply tersely, “Could you drop the asshole act and talk to me?”

“What act?” he laughs shortly, setting his helmet down on
the seat of the ATV, “This is just me, babe. Don’t know what to tell you.”

“You can tell me why you’re acting like a jerk all of a
sudden,” I say, wrapping my arms around my knees. “I’m sorry if I didn’t handle
this morning well. You know I don’t have much experience with the whole—”

“I honestly couldn’t care less,” he says evenly. I don’t
know him nearly well enough to tell if he’s lying to me. “But hey, let’s maybe
not mention the fact that we fucked like animals all last night around our
families, yeah? Might make them a little uncomfortable.”

I stare up at him, mind reeling along with my heart. “So,
what… You’re saying we just forget it ever happened? Pretend we’ve never met?”

“Isn’t that what you want?” he asks, eyes hard on my face,
“I mean, wasn’t that the plan when you left this morning?”

I bite my lip, willing myself not to start crying again. The
only reason I left without saying goodbye, was that I didn’t want to get my
hopes up of something more with Cash. I didn’t want to ruin what happened
between us by making an ass of myself the next morning. But would you look at
that? I seem to have done it anyway.

“I’m really sorry, Cash,” I say imploringly, “Please, let me
explain. I don’t want you to hate me—”

“Maddie, for the love of Christ, don’t turn this into a
fucking soap opera. I don’t hate you,” he snaps, exasperated, “I told you. I
don’t care. Just drop it, OK?”

I hold my tongue, trying to see past the steely mask of indifference
he’s wearing. We may not know each other very well, but this isn’t the man I
spent all of last night with. He’s icing me out. He thinks I bailed this
morning because I wasn’t into it, and he doesn’t want to look bad. What we have
here, as the movies say, is a big ol’ failure to communicate. But something
tells me that communication isn’t going to be Cash Hawthorne’s strong suit.

“Goddammit, Cash!” John roars from the kitchen doorway. I
spin around to see him towering above us on the patio, fists clenched.

“Hey Pop,” Cash nods, producing a pack of cigarettes from
his back pocket.

“Don’t ‘hey Pop’ me,” John growls, “What the hell did you do
to my fucking lawn?”

Cash glances back at the semicircular skid marks the ATV cut
through the grass. “Oh yeah. You’re right,” he says, lighting up a smoke. I try
not to fixate on his lips as they cradle his fresh cigarette.

“Fix it,” John snaps, “And put that fucking thing out. That
habit will kill you one day.”

“What?” Cash replies, feigning amazement, “Smoking is
bad
for you?!”

“Maddie,” John says to me, forcing a deep breath into his
lungs, “I can’t slug him without having to foot the bill for a decade of
therapy. You do it for me, OK?”

“Little late for that,” Cash mutters under his breath,
taking a long drag on his cigarette.

For a second, John fixes a look of pure rage on his oldest
son. My body goes stiff with apprehension, and I halfway expect John to launch
himself off the patio and right at Cash’s form. But thankfully, the eldest
Hawthorne manages to take a breath, turns on his heel, and marches away. Before
I can say another word, Cash hops back on the ATV and races in the other
direction, toward the garage—cigarette still held between his lips. I, for my
part, stand rooted to the ground, looking plaintively after him as he goes.

“Well,” I mutter, eyeing the deep tire ruts left in the
fresh-cut grass, “It wouldn’t be a Porter family vacation if it wasn’t totally
fucked.”

I spend the rest of the evening intently chopping up
vegetables and herbs for dinner, trying my damnedest to get a hold of my
runaway mind. Of all the men in the world, I had to have my first one night
stand—and best sex of my life, I may add—with the son of my mom’s new “man
friend”? What are the chances, even—a bajillion to one? Now, I get to spend the
next two weeks under Cash’s withering gaze, pretending it doesn’t hurt like
hell that he’s acting like we’re strangers. I know we only got to spend one
night together, but he doesn’t feel like a stranger to me. I felt more
connected to and engaged with him than I have with anyone in years. That can’t
just mean nothing, can it?

Maybe if I’d just told him all that, instead of leaving him
a note like an asshole, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. Of course, there’s
the whole weirdness of our parents maybe being an item, but I honestly don’t
buy that my mom can stay interested in this new guy for more than a couple
weeks. Tops. By the time we’re ready to hit the road, she’ll have moved onto
her next flight of fancy. That’s always been her way.

“Maddie,” my mom trills, lifting a huge tray of baked
potatoes from the oven, “Why don’t you go round up the boys? Everything’ll be
ready in a sec.”

I let the kitchen knife go clattering to the floor, looking
up at her with startled eyes.

“Oh. I don’t. I mean—” I stammer, “I don’t really know where
they are…”

“I think they’re down by the lake,” Anna replies, dropping a
dozen golden dinner rolls into a basket.

“What, do you need a chaperone to face the big bad boys?” Sophie
teases me, sipping a glass of Merlot at the table, “Come on. I’ll go with you.”

I give in and trail Sophie out the door. I may as well
accept the fact that this week is going to be awkward as hell. No use fighting
it.

“I still haven't met the younger guys,” Sophie says over her
shoulder, traipsing down toward the dock in her bare feet. “They’ve been making
themselves pretty damn scarce. Not that I have high hopes, having met Cash.”

“Yeah,” I laugh nervously, crossing my arms, “He seems like
kind of a dick, right?”

“Total dick. Pretty hot though,” she replies casually.

“S-sorry?” I sputter.

“What? He
is
,” she replies, “Did you see those
tattoos? And that hair? God lord. It’s like if Jon Snow and Thor had a super
sexy, tatted-up love child. Not sure how that would work biologically, but—”

“I mean, yeah, he’s pretty attractive…” I allow, “But I
mean, he’s kind of off-limits, right? All the boys are. What with Mom and
John’s history and everything?”

“Whoa,
whoa
. I wasn’t planning on jumping him or
anything, Maddie,” Sophie laughs, “Unless you think he’d be into it, that is.”

I bite my tongue, feeling my heart clench painfully in my
chest. There’s no denying that Sophie is the real beauty of the family. With
her long, wavy hair, big blue eyes, and slender, graceful frame, she’s every
bit the conventional knockout. When we were in high school together, I had
fellow senior guys asking me to set them up with Sophie, then a freshman. She’s
never given her beauty a second thought, or made me feel inferior on purpose,
but she’s also never failed to get any guy she wanted. So if she turns her
sights on Cash…

“Christ, Maddie. I’m kidding,” Sophie goes on, as we draw up
before the dock.

“Oh. Right,” I reply flatly. “I knew that.”

“We need to get you drunk ASAP tonight,” Sophie laughs, “The
rat race is turning you into something of a downer, my dear.”

I put on my best attempt at a casual expression and follow
Sophie toward the end of the platform, where a broad shouldered young man I
have yet to meet stands looking out across the lake. This must be another of
the guys we’re supposed to be rounding up, though the other two Hawthorne
brothers are nowhere to be seen.

“Hey there,” Sophie calls to him.

But he doesn’t acknowledge the greeting.

“Maybe he didn’t hear you?” I whisper, stopping short.

Sophie narrows her eyes at the built young man standing
before us and marches on ahead. “Hey,” she says, tapping the guy on his cut
shoulder, “What’s up?”

He shrugs off her hand and raises it in a gesture that
clearly says, “Shut up.” Sophie’s face goes red with embarrassment and anger,
but it soon becomes clear what he’s focusing so intently on instead of her.

Straight ahead of us, two svelte bodies churn and chop the
water as they race to the dock. Powerful, precise limbs propel them forward
toward us. Their pace is matched, and the two are neck and neck as they
approach. Sophie and I leap back as they barrel toward the dock, sending a
soaking spray of lake water our way. As we look on, Cash and another of his
brothers grab hold of the wooden platform and hoist themselves up out of the
water, and I for one feel as if I’m being swept away.

Water courses in rivulets over Cash’s impeccably muscled
body, and I can’t tear my gaze away. As he straightens up, I run my eyes along
his cut torso, down to where his swim trunks rest dangerously low on his waist.
My core twists with longing as he runs a hand through his soaking wet hair,
each muscle rippling with the smallest of motions.

And I’m not the only one staring, either.

Sophie has gone stock still beside me, her eyes hard and
fast not on Cash, but on the brother he emerged from the water beside. The
color has gone completely out of her cheeks, and my normally ebullient sister
is suddenly silent. What’s that about?

“Well? Who had the best time, Finn?” Cash demands of the
brother we first encountered on the dock.

“Couldn’t tell, lost count. But it looked like a tie,” Finn
replies.

“No such thing,” scoffs the brother Sophie’s got her eyes
trained on. “Do over.”

“Maybe tomorrow, Luke. If you’re a really good boy,” Cash
laughs, reaching for the pack of cigarettes waiting for him on the dock.
Turning, he catches sight of Sophie and I…and doesn’t even blink.

“What’re you, afraid to lose to your little brother?” the
other man returns, though he certainly doesn’t look little to me. He’s at least
as tall as Cash, though more clean-cut—with only a couple of tattoos and
close-cropped dark hair.

“Nah. We’ve just got
guests
,” Cash replies,
practically spitting the last word as he whips out and lights a cigarette.

The other two Hawthorne brothers look up, as if noticing us
for the first time. The one called Luke barely gives me a second glance, but he
catches Sophie’s eye at once. A flicker of something like curiosity passes through
his deep brown eyes, though it passes soon enough. The third brother, who looks
to be the youngest, can’t even be bothered to acknowledge our presence.

Looks like questionable first impressions run in the family.

“What can we do for you girls?” Cash asks, taking a long
drag of his cigarette. He’s doing a parody of being cordial, and it’s getting
on my last nerve.

“Dinner’s ready,” I inform him, “Mom sent us down to get
you.”

“We don’t really do family dinners around here,” Cash goes
on, condescendingly.

“We’re more of a pizza and beer family, ourselves,” Luke
puts in.

I wait for Sophie to make some kind of snappy comeback, as
she always does…but the cat has yet to release her tongue. I draw myself up to
my full height—which, granted, isn’t much—and try to sound assertive.

“Well, we’re not doing things your way tonight,” I tell the
trio of strapping young bucks standing before me, “We’ve gone out of our way to
make a meal, and you three are going to join us. Sound good?”

“Christ,” the youngest brother speaks at last, tossing his
sweep of ash brown hair away from his eyes, “I didn’t know we were gonna get
the full June Cleaver treatment.”