Stepbrother Backstage (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 3) (43 page)

“Maddie,” our mom chirps as she puts the finishing touches
on her feast, “Why don
’
t you go round up the boys?
Everything
’
ll be ready in a sec.”

My older sister promptly drops her knife, the color draining
from her face.

“
Oh. I don’
t. I mean—” she sputters,
even more flustered than usual, “
I don’
t really know where
they are…”

“I think they
’
re down by the lake,”
Anna replies, plucking a tray of dinner rolls out of the oven.

I didn’t even realize the younger boys had returned from
their camping expedition. We haven’t gotten so much as a grunt out of any of
them, much less a “hello”. But after catching a glimpse of the sexy, brooding
Cash this afternoon, I’m curious to see what the others look like. Besides,
Maddie seems downright terrified to wrangle them on her own.

“What, do you need a chaperone to face the big bad boys?” I
tease her, rising to my feet, “Come on. I
’
ll go with you.”

Resigned, Maddie trails me out the back door onto the patio.
The night is warm and breezy, and dusk gathers quickly as the sun plummets
toward the horizon.

“I still haven't met the younger guys,” I say over my
shoulder to Maddie, “They
’
ve been making themselves pretty
damn scarce. Not that I have high hopes, having met Cash.”

“Yeah,” she chuckles nervously, “He seems like kind of a
dick, right?”

“Total dick,” I agree. “Pretty hot though.”

“S-sorry?” Maddie stammers, running a hand through her long
dark blonde bob. God, she can be such a puritan sometimes.

“What? He is,” I shrug, “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…”
Maddie allows slowly, “But I mean, he
’
s kind of off
limits, right? All the boys are. What with Mom and John
’
s
history and everything?”

I nearly stop in my tracks at Maddie’s uncharacteristic leap
of logic.

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

I watch as Maddie’s face goes perfectly still, her mouth
hardening into a tight straight line. I hate to say it, but she’s
always
been something of a prude, my big sister. I mean for god’s sake, she’s only had
about three boyfriends in her entire life. And all of them were long, drawn
out, monogamous relationships. I shudder at the very thought.

“Christ, Maddie. I
’
m kidding,” I say,
snapping my sister out of her dead-eyed trance.

“Oh. Right,” she mutters, “I knew that.”

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

It’s so weird that her mind would leap immediately to
whether or not it’s OK for us to hook up with John’s sons. Maybe all that
boring relationship sex is screwing with her straight-and-narrow sensibilities?
I hadn’t even considered that question myself. But, then again, I have someone
waiting for me back at Sheridan. Someone who would surely put these rowdy
country boys to shame.

I spot one such country boy standing at the end of the dock,
looking out across the water. He’s big and broad-shouldered like his dad, and
tatted-up like Cash, but with much lighter ash-brown hair.

“Hey there,” I call to him as Maddie and I approach.

He ignores me completely, keeping his gaze on the water.

“Maybe he didn
’
t hear you?” Maddie
suggests in a whisper.

Maybe he’s just being a dick,
I think to myself,
marching right up to him.

“Hey,” I repeat, tapping on his muscled shoulder, “What
’
s up?
”

I take a step back, startled, as he raises his hand to me.
For a terrifying second, I’m reminded of the other night at the bar—the moment
when that skinhead maniac cocked back his arm to pummel Danny into the ground.
But no…this guy is simply trying to shut me up. Looks like he’s just as
charming as his big brother after all. What’s so damn fascinating about the
lake, anyway?

Following the younger son’s gaze out across the water, I
spot the source of his intense focus. Two built, barreling bodies are racing
toward us, cutting the water with strong, sure strokes. I’m guessing that it’s
the two other brothers, having a little pre-dinner race. I’ll never understand
men and their need to make
everything
into a contest.

Taking a big step back to avoid getting drenched, I watch as
the two men soar toward the dock, sending up a huge jet of water in their wake.
Crossing my arms, I brace myself to meet the third of John’s sons. Maybe he’ll
be more of a conversationalist than this cavemen brothers? But something tells
me not to get my hopes up.

I look on as the swimmers grab hold of the wooden dock and
pull themselves effortlessly up out of the water. Just as they climb
side-by-side onto the planks and straighten up, the fiery orange sun blazes out
from behind a cloud just above the horizon. I squint into the bright sunlight,
blinded by the sudden burst. When my eyes start to adjust, I find myself
starting at a pair of exceptionally cut torsos, dripping with lake water and
absolutely perfect in shape and tone. I recognize Cash’s tattoos at once,
averting my attention to the other brother, whose tapered, muscular waist forms
a perfect v. His fitted swim trunks hang dangerously low, and a dark trail of
hair leads down from his navel, drawing my gaze to the impressive bulge
announcing itself beneath his bathing suit. It’s that tantalizing trail that
snags my attention for its striking familiarity. And when I widen my focus and
take this stranger in as a whole, that uncanniness only becomes more
pronounced. Somewhere deep within the recesses of my mind, an alarm starts to
wail. But why? As the blood red sun finally dips down below the horizon, my
unblinded eyes flick up to the man’s face.

For a split second, I convince myself that I must be
hallucinating. I’ve had too much to drink. I’m crazed with cabin fever after
one day in the woods. Surely, I can’t
actually
be seeing what my mind
would have me believe. But as the stranger’s eyes lock squarely with mine,
blazing like the finest of emeralds, there can be no mistaking him.

Luke Hawthorne stands at the end of the dock, staring at me
with utter disbelief. My entire world tilts on its axis as I scramble to
understand this turn of events. Luke is here. At the lake house. With John’s
sons. He is John’s son. And if Luke is John’s son—John, who my mother has been
shacked up with for months doing god knows what—Then he and I… We’re…

I bring my wine glass to my lips, taking a huge swig as time
speeds back up to the present. My heart pounds wildly in my ears, obscuring the
banter that flies in the air between the three brothers. I watch, paralyzed, as
Luke gages my reaction. His expression goes from shocked, to curious, to
something approaching happy surprise. Holy shit…is he going to tell all of our
siblings that we know each other? He can’t. They
can’t
know. I can
practically feel the panic light up my body like a neon sign, and it’s not lost
on Luke either. I watch as he realizes that I’m not going to acknowledge him.
Watch as disappointment, then indifference take hold of his features. He tears
his eyes away from me, playing it cool as ever. Unless he isn’t playing at
all—maybe he couldn’t care less about finding me here. Me, the daughter of the
woman who’s been living with his Dad, and… And…

I watch as if from outside my own body as Luke shoots me a
casual smile and strides right past me toward the house. Clutching onto my wine
glass like a life preserver, I hurry to avert my eyes, totally at a loss.
What’s the proper etiquette for the moment you figure out that the guy you want
to bone is related to your Mom’s fuck buddy?

Dear god. I’m going to need a refill before I even
begin
to deal with this one.

Chapter Six

Well, it’s official
, I think to myself as I sink even
further down into my seat at the kitchen table,
I can now say in all truth
that I know what hell looks like.

I barely hear a word of the conversation buzzing in the air as
the Porter and Hawthorne families tuck into their dinners. Unable to even think
about touching my own food, I sip my wine in shell-shocked silence. How can
this be happening? How can it be possible that Luke freaking Hawthorne is
sitting across from me at “family dinner”, looking calm and collected as ever?
Is he not the least bit freaked out to see me here? Does he care at all that
our relationship has just gotten ten times weirder, perhaps even impossible,
given our parents’ history? How am I the only one who’s freaking out about this
whole goddamn side show?

“So nice to have everyone here at last,” my Mom trills,
looking around at the seven less-than-enthusiastic faces around the table.
“Have all you kids gotten to know each other by now?”

I can feel Luke’s eyes boring into me from across the table.
He’s waiting for me to explain how it is we know each other. Waiting to see if
I’ve changed my mind. If I could swan dive into my wine glass right now, I
would.

“More or less,” Cash replies to my mom.

“Glad you kids are all acquainted,” John says curtly.

“Your dad is a man of few words,” Mom smiles at John, “Are
all you boys strong silent types as well?”

“
I don’
t know if I
’
d
put it that way,” Luke puts in, his voice impossibly even. “We all have more
than our fair share of differences.”

“Sounds like my girls, too,” Mom says, “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, his green eyes gleaming with
grim determination as they swing back to my face.

I send a huge gulp of wine gushing down the wrong pipe, and
double over as a coughing fit overtakes me. So much for playing it cool. What
the hell does Luke think he’s doing? He can’t possibly think that sharing our
backstory is a good idea, here? Our families’ small talk is drowned out by the
frantic thundering of my heart. I glance desperately up at Luke the second I
stop choking, looking at him directly for the first time since he sprung up out
of that lake like some kind of water god. Maybe I can master ESP in the next
two minutes and beg him not to say another word? But there’s no need for ESP
with him. He can read people like open books. It helps that the look I’m giving
him clearly reads, “NO. PLEASE. DON’T.” in gigantic bold print.

“So, you and Sophie are at the same school?” Maddie says to
Luke, dragging my mind back to the present, “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 replies, his strong square jaw pulsing with the tension of
words unsaid. Finally, my icy panic has a second to thaw. Maybe he’s not going
to blow our spot just yet…

“Sophie, you didn
’
t tell me you knew
Luke!” Mom gasps, turning to me with a rapturous smile.

“Well, I didn
’
t exactly know we were
family friends,” I snap before I can stop myself, “Or that I
’
d
be seeing him—them—here, did I? Besides, I don't know him. We just go to the
same school. With thousands of other people. It
’
s not the
same thing.”

A crease appears between Luke’s perfectly sculpted brows as
I blush furiously. He’s gone from frustrated to downright pissed. I don’t know
why I’m lying about how we know each other, I’m purely in survival mode, here.

“I guess Sheridan is a much bigger school than the one me
and John met in,” Mom goes on, totally oblivious to the drama unfolding between
me and Luke. “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 says, grinning suggestively at Mom.

“We sure did,” Mom smiles back, looking for the world like a
blushing schoolgirl. What the hell is this, now?

“So, what, you two dated in high school or something?”
Annabel asks, finally putting voice to the subject that all us adult children
have been skirting around.

“Or something…” John mutters.

“Actually,” Mom says breathlessly, “John and I were
engaged.”

My stomach turns over as I whip around to face my mother—and
I’m not the only person at the table looking suddenly nauseated. My sisters,
Luke, Cash, and their youngest brother Finn are all staring at our parents with
rapt, uneasy focus.

“Well, that
’
s a conversation we haven
’
t had,” Maddie says curtly, glaring at our mother.

“You were engaged?” I splutter, “What…When?!”

“All through senior year of high school,” Mom tells us,
sighing nostalgically.

“But I couldn
’
t keep this one pinned
down in Podunk, Montana,” John adds, none-too-amiably.

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

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

“It is,” Mom allows. A shadow crosses over her face as Dad
comes up for the first time since we’ve been here.

“So if that scholarship hadn
’
t come
through, you would have stayed here and married John…” Anna goes on, a dreamy
look in her eye. I wish to god that she would stop with these hypotheticals
before I puke all over the table.

“That was the plan,” John says, sneaking a warm glance at
our mother.

“So if you think about it,” Anna goes on, “John is sort of,
like, our almost-dad.”

There it is. The exact thing I was trying not to think this whole
time. Even if we had no knowledge of our parents’ past, Luke and I have still
shared this baffling connection the whole time we’ve known each other—when I
was crushing on him during his lectures, when we shared that steamy hookup in
the bathroom of the bar, when we stayed up all last night texting each other
the dirtiest things we could think of… Our entire relationship is suspect, now.
And there’s nothing we can do about it.

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

“She
’
s got a point though,” John says
with a shrug, “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?” Maddie snaps, her face reddening, “Seeing as we had a dad, and all.
A great dad.”

“Maddie,” I say softly, trying to reach her through her
simmering rage. 

“
Had a dad?
” asks Finn, the
youngest Hawthorne brother.

“
Yeah. Had. He died,
” Maddie all but
spits, “But I guess someone forgot to relay that information, too.”

I fix my gaze on the table, blinking back sudden tears. I
can feel Luke’s green eyes hard on my face, but I don’t dare meet them. The
empathy I know I’d find there would put me right over the edge. And I won’t
give anyone here the satisfaction of making me cry.

“Excuse me,” Maddie mutters, “
I just
…
I don’
t seem to have much of an appetite.”

She leaps up from the table in a huff, effectively ending
this bizarro family dinner. As the group begins to disperse, all I can think of
is getting Luke alone. Not for our previously planned liaison, but to regroup
and figure out what the hell we’re going to do now. I finally raise my eyes to
his over the table as our families scatter with a look that clearly says,
We
need to talk.

Luke jerks his head subtly toward the patio door, and I nod
my assent. Amid the chaos of the broken-up dinner party, we slip away to
reconvene in a less public arena.

Dewy blades of grass cling to my bare ankles as I hurry
across the wide backyard of the Hawthorne lake house, trailing Luke down to the
dock. My head swims with new gleaned information and, to be perfectly honest, a
bit more wine than may have been wise. But hey, something tells me that this is
a conversation I’ll be happy to be a bit buzzed for.

Luke’s broad, built figure stands out against the inky lake,
imposing and flawless as ever. It’s still bizarre to see him in shorts and a
tee shirt, rather than slacks and a button down. I actually find myself wishing
we could be back in that lecture hall together. Economic theory may have bored
me to tears, but at least our dynamic was clear cut then. But now? The status
of our relationship couldn’t be any murkier.

“Well,” Luke remarks gruffly, looking up as I approach the
end of the dock, “Fancy meeting you here.” It’s the first full sentence he’s
spoken to me since he nearly gave me a heart attack climbing out of that lake.

“No shit, Prof,” I mutter back, crossing my arms as the cool
breeze chills my bare skin.

“So,” he goes on, shoving a hand through his short chestnut
hair, “Do you want to tell me why the hell you lied to our families back
there?”

“I’m…Sorry?” I breathe, gaping up at him.

“Why did you tell them we didn’t know each other?” he
demands, “That’s just going to fuck this up even more.”

“What the hell did you expect me to say?!” I laugh
incredulously, “‘Luke was technically my teacher, but that didn’t stop us from
trying to do the nasty anyway. Oh, and I spent all of last night jerking myself
off in the guest room as he described exactly how he’d fuck me when he got the
chance?’ Is that what you had in mind?”

“Of course not,” he snaps, “Don’t play dumb with me. I know
you too well for that. We could have spun things our way without giving all the
dirty details. But hey, if you’d rather pretend we’ve never met and just go our
separate ways, then—”

“That’s not what I want at all,” I cut him off emphatically,
“That’s the last thing in the world I want, Luke.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” he replies, cocking an
eyebrow at me.

“Come
on
,” I cry, exasperated. “I just found out that
you’re practically related to me all of two hours ago. I’m still trying to
figure out—”

“What is there to figure out?” he growls, taking a step
toward me, “Why should it matter that our parents know each other?”

“They don’t just know each other,” I breathe, my body
heating up despite myself as he closes the space between us, “They’re living
together. They were engaged, for fuck’s sake. How the hell is none of this
freaking you out?”

“Because it doesn’t matter, Sophie,” he says fiercely,
grabbing me by the hips, “All the matters is how we feel about each other.
We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I don’t—I mean…” I gasp, laying my hands on the firm panes
of his chest.

“Look, in the end, I don’t give a shit how we play this with
our families,” he goes on, circling my waist with his powerful arms, “We can
pretend we don’t know each other. We can ignore each other completely when
they’re around. Whatever you like. But I
won’t
pretend that I don’t
still want you, Sophie. I couldn’t, even if I tried.”

“I don’t think I could either,” I whisper, turning my face
to his, “Luke, I don’t want this thing between us to be over yet.”

“Then don’t end it,” he rasps, running a hand through my
long caramel locks. I gasp as his fingers close tightly, tugging my hair with
just the right amount of force. Just the way he promised last night…

“How can you go from professor, to perfect son, to
this
in the blink of an eye?” I ask him breathlessly, lifting my face to his.

“You’re not the only one with acting practice, I guess,” he
grins, pulling my body flush against his, “Do you have any idea how hard it was
to act like I wasn’t thrilled to see you here earlier?”

“What? Why thrilled?” I ask, baffled.

“Because I thought I’d have to wait two whole weeks to get
my hands on you again,” he tells me, running those hands down along my back,
“But now…”

A shudder runs down my spine as Luke grabs hold of my firm
ass, tugging me hard against him. I gasp as I feel his hard cock pressed
urgently against my thigh. Circling his broad shoulders with trembling arms, I
look up at him in the gathering twilight.

“I’m really going to need you to kiss me now, Luke,” I
whisper.

Without another word, he brings his mouth to mine. I melt
against his perfectly balanced body, grinding my hips against his insistent
desire. He works my mouth open, sweeping his expert tongue against mine. The
smoky, sweet taste of him gets me drunker in a moment than I’ve felt all
evening. It’s all I can do to keep from tearing his clothes off right here on
the dock.

We may be resolved to see this thing through, despite our
families’ tangled history…but something tells me that giving them a front row
seat to us
getting down and dirty
would still be ill-advised, to say the
least.

Though Luke and I manage to pull ourselves away from each
other before things get out of hand that night, we do leave the dock with some
ground rules in place. First, we decide that it’s best to keep our families in
the dark about the details of our acquaintance for now. All they need to know
is that we met at Sheridan. That’s it. Seeing as neither of our families are
particularly forthcoming about their emotional and personal lives, it won’t be
out of character for us to keep our lips sealed.