Stepbrother Backstage (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 3) (27 page)

“Don’t be an ass, Finn,” Luke snaps. Apparently, he’s the
moral compass of this little tribe. “Come on. I’m not going to complain about a
home cooked meal for once.”

He strides past us toward the house, and Sophie goes well
out of her way to avoid his gaze before following. Finn shrugs and follows
suit—I get the feeling that he’s more of a nihilist than an asshole. That just
leaves me and Cash, alone again. I watch as he nurses his cigarette, in no
hurry to move.

“You coming?” I ask him, watching his full lips close around
the filter of his cig.

“In a minute,” he says, looking out across the lake.

“Your brothers seem…Uh…Charming,” I offer, not very
convincingly, “I didn’t know you were the oldest. I guess we have that in
common, huh?”

“You didn’t really stick around long enough to find out, did
you?” Cash replies. Clearly, he’s never going to let me live down my exit this
morning. But instead of gushing about how sorry I am, I decide to give him a
taste of his own medicine.

“Yeah,” I drawl, dropping my voice an octave and giving an
exaggerated shrug, “My policy has always been hit ‘em and quit ‘em. You get me,
bro?”

“…What?” Cash replies flatly, raising an eyebrow.

“You know, man,” I go on, “Can’t be lettin’ bitches get all
attached and shit. I’m not a one-man kind of girl, you feel me?”

The corner of Cash’s mouth lifts ever so slightly as my bro
impression picks up steam. It’s a tiny crack in his armor, a slight warming of
his oh-so-cold shoulder treatment.

“Shit though,” I go on, “I landed me one sweet piece of ass
last night. If I wasn’t a total idiot, I would have bought that boy breakfast
in the morning… Maybe let him know that he was right about me wanting more than
one night.”

“Is that so?” Cash replies, his voice low and rasping.

“It is,” I tell him, my act evaporating at once.

“Well,” he goes on, that crooked smile widening
ever-so-slightly. “That’s good to know.”

I hold my breath as he takes a step toward me, flicking his
cigarette into the lake. He closes the space between us, catching my chin in
his hand. We’re hidden from sight by the gathering twilight, and I feel my
knees start go weak with anticipation.

“You realize, though…” he growls, as I let my hands fall on
his water-slicked chest, “That if anything else happens between us, you still
won’t have had a one night stand?”

“I think I can live with that,” I whisper, tilting my face
toward his.

His hands slide down my back, tugging me hard against his
body. Every inch of me that’s pressed to him is screaming with delight, both
present and remembered.

“Well…We’ll just have to see what happens, then,” he
murmurs, sliding his hands down over the rise of my ass. His lips brush against
my neck, sending a shudder down my spine—

“Maddie! Cash!” I hear Sophie call from the deck, her voice
high and strangled, “Come on already! It’s time to eat.”

I take a stumbling leap away from Cash as he looks on in
amusement.

“Coming!” I cry out, scrambling up the dock.

“Already?” Cash teases, “I barely even touched you.”

I let myself laugh at his crude joke, glad that there might
be hope for our relationship yet—whatever the hell that relationship may be.

“You have to admit,” he goes on, throwing a brotherly arm
over my shoulders as we trudge toward the house, “This whole thing is pretty
fucking hilarious.”

“Oh yeah,” I drawl, rolling my eyes, “It’s a real laugh
riot.”

Chapter Five

As all eight Porters and Hawthornes settle down around the
dinner table, I don’t think anyone is oblivious to how bizarre our little
gathering is. Anyone, that is, besides my mother—who serves out generous
helpings to everyone with a contented smile on her face. Robin Porter is the
epitome of adaptable. I swear, she could get comfy in a nudist colony, cultish
commune, or post-apocalyptic hellscape if she had to. She’s a woman who knows
how to go with the flow, even if everyone around her is flailing in the
current.

“So nice to have everyone here at last,” she beams around
the table. “Have all you kids gotten to know each other by now?”

“More or less,” Cash grins, letting his knee brush against
mine under the table. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the jolt of sensation
that even this little contact sends through me. Cash and I have gotten to know
each other, all right. At least in the biblical sense. What would the rest of
this bizarro Brady Bunch think, if they knew the truth about us?

“Glad you kids are all acquainted,” John grumbles, digging
into his heaping plateful of meat and potatoes.

“Your dad is a man of few words,” Robin laughs, looking
fondly over at John, “Are all you boys the strong and silent types as well?”

I remember the way Cash picked me up in his arms as if it
were nothing, last night. Flipping me over, taking me from behind—

“I don’t know if I’d put it that way,” Luke chuckles, “We
all have more than our fair share of differences.”

“Sounds like my girls, too,” Robin nods, “Annabel takes
after me, with her photography and all. Maddie’s our little working girl over
in Seattle. And Sophia’s studying drama and dance at Sheridan University.”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke replies, as Sophie promptly chokes on
her third glass of wine. Or is it her fourth? I’ve lost count.

“You know what, dear?” Mom asks Luke.

“Luke here is a Sheridan boy too,” John says proudly,
“Finished undergrad just last year, and he’s already back there now for his
business degree. They can’t get rid of him!”

“Yep. Luke’s our college boy,” Cash says, none-too-sweetly.
“The
only
college boy among the Hawthornes, actually.”

“I would have been more than happy to send you to college
too,” John says gruffly, shooting Cash a look, “You know that full well.”

“If I hadn’t been wasting my time fighting a war and all?”
Cash shoots back.

“You’re in the military?” Anna asks, speaking up from her
place next to Finn.

“He
was
,” Finn replies, ripping a dinner roll in two.

A long, heavy moment of silence swells up, enclosing us all.
All four of the Hawthorne men retreat into themselves, leaving us Porter women
at a loss. Since no one else is going to, I try my best to dispel the
awkwardness.

“So, you and Sophie are at the same school?” I say to Luke.
“I’m sure undergrads and graduate students don’t see much of each other,
though.”

“Oh, I think Sophie and I have seen each other around school
once or twice,” Luke says casually, helping me steer the conversation back
toward civility.

That explains why Sophie has been acting so strangely around
Luke. Running into a schoolmate in such tight quarters would be pretty awkward.
I feel her pain, though I think Cash and I still have the record for strangest
origin story so far.

“Sophie, you didn’t tell me you knew Luke!” Mom gushes.

“Well, I didn’t exactly know we were family friends. Or that
I’d be seeing him—
them
—here, did I” Sophie replies shortly, face halfway
hidden behind her glass. “Besides, I don't know him. We just go to the same
school. With thousands of other people. It’s not the same thing.”

“I guess Sheridan is a much bigger school than the one me
and John met in,” Mom laughs, clueless about Sophie’s discomfort. “Little
Flathead County High was not exactly a hopping place. What did we have, a
hundred kids per class?”

“We still had our fun though, didn’t we?” John smiles
broadly at Mom.

“We sure did,” Mom giggles suggestively.

The six of us adult children trade uncomfortable glances
across the table. We’ve been skirting the subject of our parents’ relationship,
but our questions can’t be put off any longer.

“So, what, you two dated in high school or something?” Anna
asks.

“Or something…” John replies vaguely.

“Actually,” Mom goes on conspiratorially, “John and I were
engaged.”

Six heads whip around the face the eldest Porter and
Hawthorne.

“Well,
that’s
a conversation we haven’t had,” I say
tersely.

“You were engaged?” Sophie exclaims, jaw hanging open,
“What…When?!”

“All through senior year of high school,” Mom says, somewhat
wistfully.

“But I couldn’t keep this one pinned down in Podunk, Montana,”
John puts in, with a lingering edge to his voice.

“My scholarship to art school came through, and I couldn’t
pass it up,” Mom sighs, “Besides, we were so young…”

“Isn’t art school where you met Dad?” Anna asks pointedly.

“It is,” Mom replies, her benign smile faltering for the
first time as Dad is invoked.

“So if that scholarship hadn’t come through, you would have
stayed here and married John…” Anna drives on, her imagination reeling. The
rest of us return hastily to our plates of food, feeling none-too-comfortable
about this line of questioning.

“That was the plan,” John says with a tight smile.

“So if you think about it,” Anna continues, looking back at
forth between John and our mother, “John is sort of, like, our almost-dad.”

I nearly spit out my mouthful of wine at Anna’s assessment.
God, when you put it like that, my dalliance with Cash suddenly sounds
way
weirder than it has any reason to. If our parents were engaged once, then what
does that make us to each other? And why do I suddenly have the incredible urge
to crawl under the kitchen table and never emerge?

I’m certainly not the only sibling at the table looking a
little squeamish at this little revelation. Sophie is staring intently into her
wine glass as Luke shovels food very deliberately into his mouth. Even Cash’s
face has gone a bit stony—maybe with trying to figure out what this twist means
for the two of us.

“Almost-dad,” Mom giggles airily, “What a thing to say,
Anna! You’ve always been the inventive one.”

“She’s got a point though,” John shrugs, “There’s no way of
knowing what might have been, if only…”

“No real need to wonder about what might have been though,
is there?” I snap, surprising even myself with my heated tone, “Seeing as we
had a dad, and all. A great dad.”

“Maddie,” Sophie murmurs, trying to staunch my verbal
torrent.

“
Had
a dad?” Finn asks from across the table.

“Yeah. Had. He died,” I say shortly, “But I guess someone
forgot to relay that information, too.”

A tense silence comes down hard over the table, and I feel
Cash’s hazel eyes swing my way. There’s a tinge of something like pity in his
gaze, and that does me in. All at once, the situation becomes too much for me
to handle. Between the revelations about my mom and John Hawthorne’s past, my
grief at seeing Mom with another man at all, and the intensely confusing
feelings I’m having for Cash, I feel like the whole world as I know it is
falling away beneath me.

“Excuse me,” I mutter, pushing back my chair and rising
shakily to my feet. “I just…I don’t seem to have much of an appetite.”

I turn and hurry away before anyone can see the tears
welling up in my eyes. No one says a word to stop me as I dash through the
house and out the front door, dewy grass clinging to my ankles as I beat a fast
retreat to my car. I plant my hands on the driver’s side door, steadying myself
against the heaving sobs that threaten to overtake me.

My suitcase is still wedged in the back seat. I could take
off now and leave this all behind me, go back to the life I’ve carved out for
myself in Seattle. It may be hectic, thankless, and more than a bit lonely, but
at least that life is entirely in my control. If nothing else, I know that my
heart will be safe there.

But here among the Hawthorne men? I’m not so sure.

Before my will deserts me, I grab the handle of the car
door. But before I can yank it open, a firm, decisive hand lands above mine,
keeping the door sealed shut.

“Maddie, wait,” Cash says urgently, stepping between me and
my getaway car.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my hands balling into anxious
fists.

“I’m keeping you from running away, that
’
s what,” he says,
laying those strong, steadying hands on my shoulders.

“Get out of my way, Cash,” I say, gritting my teeth to keep
from crying, “Whether or not I run away is
my
call. Not yours.”

“I know that,” he says fiercely, his eyes fixed on mine,
“You have every right to be freaked out about this whole thing. Fuck, you have
every right to be pissed as hell at the way it got sprung on us. I know I am.
Our parents are a couple of selfish assholes. I’m guessing this isn’t news to
you. ”

“So why don’t you leave, too?” I ask him, desperate for some
answers that will set this whole thing straight. “It hardly seems like you and
John are enjoying your quality time together.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Cash laughs roughly, running his
hands slowly down my bare arms. “I don’t know why I keep giving in and coming
back here at all. He and I are never going to get along. Trust me, if this was
any other Hawthorne family reunion, I’d already be hitting the road. But this
isn’t shaping up to be just any family vacation, is it?”

“What are you saying, Cash?” I demand, goosebumps springing
up along my skin as his hands trace down my arms.

“I guess I’m saying that I want more than one night with
you, too,” he growls, taking my hands in his. “I’m saying that I don’t give a
fuck about what else is going on in this house as long as you’re in it.”

“Seriously?” I ask, with a nervous laugh, “You’re not the
least bit weirded out about the fact that our parents—?”

“I stopped caring about what my father says and does a long
time ago,” Cash cuts me off, “He doesn’t control me anymore, Maddie. My life is
my own. So fuck no, I’m not weirded out. And I’m not going to let anything he
does stand between me and what I want.”

“And what is it you want now?” I ask, my voice barely above
a whisper.

I gasp as Cash catches my face in his powerful hands,
raising it to his. In answer, he brings his mouth to mine, kissing me hard in
the gathering darkness of the night. I let my mouth open to his at once,
pressing my body to him as I feel his tongue sweep against mine. We’ve scarcely
known each other a day, but my every nerve is already hard-wired to him. My
body comes alive as the taste, the smell, the feel of him envelops me. I feel
myself awakening with an urgency that only he can set off.

“I want you to stay, Maddie,” he growls, circling my waist
with his thickly muscled arms. “I don’t want you to disappear from my life just
like that.”

“But Cash…” I begin, head swimming as I peer up at him in
the dark.

“Don’t worry about the rest of them,” he tells me fiercely,
brushing the blonde hair out of my face, “Just answer me honestly: Am I someone
you want to know for more than a day?”

“Of course you are,” I tell him resolutely.

“Then don’t go. Not yet,” he says, holding me close as I
rest my hands on his firm chest. “Stay, and let me make it worth your while.”

I pause, biting my lip. As long as I can remember, I’ve put
my family’s needs and desires before my own—especially my mother’s. My instinct
as a daughter is to get out of her way, let her have this affair with John
Hawthorne, even if it only lasts a couple of weeks. Even if it stands between
me and the most engaging, sexy, fascinating man I’ve met in my life. But she’s
asked me and my sisters here for a reason. I know that deep down, she wants to
find a way to have a relationship. And if I’m honest, I want that too. So if I
do
stay, I guess everybody wins…

“Come on,” Cash urges, a small smile lifting the corner of
his mouth, “Remember how I followed through with the last promise I made you?”

The image of him lowering his mouth to my aching sex comes
roaring into my memory.
I
’
m gonna make you wish
for a whole lot more than one night
, he’d told me, before unleashing a
torrent of unimaginably wild pleasure inside of me. I feel my thighs clench
involuntarily just thinking of it, and know in that moment that I can’t deprive
myself of this man just yet.

“OK,” I whisper, circling my arms around his built
shoulders. “I’ll stay here with you, Cash. But I’m holding you to that
promise.”

“You’d better hold on tight, then,” he tells me, grin
widening.

“Why?” I reply, anticipatory butterflies careening around my
stomach, “What have you got in mind for me?”

“You’ll see…” he says, grabbing hold of my hips, “You’ll
see.” I let out a laugh as he spins me around, gives me a smack on the ass, and
says, “Now march, soldier.”

“Yes sir,” I reply coyly, relishing the way his eyes skirt
down my body as I walk out in front of him. I let my hips sway just a little,
and hear Cash groan in response.

“If you’re not careful, I’m gonna have to tackle you right
here on the front lawn,” he warns me, catching up, “What would our dear parents
think about that?”

“Do me a favor, Cash,” I reply with a shudder, “As long as
we’re here, don’t refer to them as
our
parents, all right? We’re toeing
the creepy line enough as it is.”

“Fair enough, Porter” he laughs, scaling the porch steps in
two effortlessly long strides, “Fair enough.”