Stepbrother Backstage (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 3) (6 page)

Great. Because that won’t be weird at all. 

John Hawthorne glowers at his three sons as they settle
around the table, crossing his bulky arms with displeasure.

“Couldn’t manage to rinse off before dinner like civilized
people?” he asks, roughly pulling out his chair at the head of the table. “You
all look a mess.”

“Didn’t realize this was a formal affair,” Cash replies
roughly, glaring at his father. The pitch of his ferociousness startles me a
little. There’s no love lost between Cash and John Hawthorne, that’s abundantly
clear.

“Guess we worked up pretty decent appetites out on the
lake,” Luke cuts in, trying to quell the rising hostility. Guess we know who
the peacekeeper of the Hawthorne family is. “Didn’t even think to leave time
enough to change.”

“Don’t give it a second thought,” my mom smiles, looking at
the handsome male faces all around the table, “You’re perfect just the way you
are.”

“Hear that, Dad?” Cash sneers, “Robin says we’re
perfect
.”

“You can call her Ms. Porter until she tells you otherwise,”
John growls at his oldest son.

“Robin is just fine,” my mom replies, laying a placating
hand on John’s shoulder from her place at his side.

I glance over at Finn, waiting for him to jump into the
familial fray. But he just stares straight ahead, looking bored as hell. Is he
so used to his dad and brothers being at each others’ throats that the tension
doesn’t even register with him anymore? Damn. This must have been one hell of a
family to grow up in, if that’s the case. Maybe he’s just learned to stay as
far out of the way as possible around the older Hawthorne men.

The guys help themselves to the bountiful offerings my
mother’s whipped up, saying next to nothing as they heap food onto their
plates. A thick, palpable silence falls over the table, punctuated only by the
clattering of silverware. Maddie and Sophie each look beside themselves as they
stare at their plates, neither taking a bite of food. Do they just feel
awkward, sitting at this table of strapping blokes, or what? Did I miss
something, here?

“So nice to have everyone here at last,” Robin says happily,
cutting through the silence. “Have all you kids gotten to know each other by
now?”

My mind reels back to the heated moment Finn and I shared
upstairs earlier today. The way my core pulsed with want of him as he leaned in
to kiss me. I suppose that you could call that “getting to know each other”.
That and the whole obsessively-stalking-on-the-internet thing.

“More or less,” Cash mumbles, driving his fork into a
roasted potato. 

“Glad you kids are all acquainted,” John replies, looking
around at us all.

If by “acquainted" you mean painfully awkward around
each other,
I think to myself, scanning the drawn faces of my sisters and
the Hawthorne boys.

“Your dad is a man of few words,” Mom laughs, smiling over
at John, “Are all you boy’s strong and silent types as well?”

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

“Sounds like my girls, too,” Mom 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 says shortly.

“You know what, dear?” Mom asks.

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

Sophie and Luke go to the same school? That must mean
they’ve met before tonight. But then why is she acting like a crazy person and
refusing to look at him?

“Yep. Luke
’s our college boy,
” Cash
says smugly, “The only college boy among the Hawthornes, actually.”

Huh. Guess that means Finn didn’t do the college thing,
either. That’s one thing we have in common, at least. That and coming from
completely batshit families, that is.

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

“If I hadn
’
t been wasting my time
fighting a war and all?” Cash spits at his father. They look ready to luge
across the table and fight each other.

“You
’
re in the military?” I cut in,
trying like hell to defuse the situation.

“He was,” Finn mutters from beside me. It’s the first word
he’s said all evening.

I glance over at him, hoping that he’ll say more. But no
such luck. The Hawthorne men retreat into silence, shoveling food into their
mouths as another painful silence rolls in over the dinner table.

“So, you and Sophie are at the same school?” Maddie finally
says 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 replies casually.

Sophie’s eyes bug out of her head as she looks frantically
at Luke.
Aha
. Maybe there’s a bit more to the story of her and Luke than
they’re letting on? That would explain the weirdness.

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

“Well, I didn
’
t exactly know we were
family friends,” she blurts out, “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.”

The lady doth protest too much
, I think to myself,
studying my blushing big sister.

“I guess Sheridan is a much bigger school than the one me
and John met in,” Mom sighs. “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 warmly at my mom.

“We sure did,” Mom grins suggestively.

Oh god. They’re making eyes at each other like a couple of
young lovers. Time to cut the bullshit and make them own up to the truth. I,
for one, am not buying this “we’re old friends” act for another second. I don’t
care how awkward this makes things, I have to make them put their cards on the
table and be honest with us, here. They owe us that much after dragging us all
out into the woods for these shenanigans.

“So, what, you two dated in high school or something?” I
ask, cutting to the chase.

I feel the air go out of the room as my sisters and the
Hawthorne boys brace themselves for our parents’ response.

“Or something…” John murmurs slyly, stealing a
conspiratorial look at my mom.

“Actually,” Mom says, laying her hands on the table, “John
and I were engaged.”

My eyes go wide as I struggle to take in this piece of
information. That’s not what I was expecting to hear at all. My mom has always
been pretty open with me about her romantic and sexual history, but I had no
idea about this. I can’t tell if I’m more hurt by her omission or freaked out
about its implications. But my level of discomfort with this revelation is
nothing compared to my sisters’.

“Well, that
’
s a conversation we haven
’
t had,” Maddie fumes.

“You were engaged?” Sophie chokes, “What…When?!”

“All through senior year of high school,” Mom sighs,
reminiscing.

“But I couldn
’
t keep this one pinned
down in Podunk, Montana,” John grumbles.

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

“Isn
’
t art school where you met Dad?” I
cut in, derailing their stroll down memory lane.

The light dims in Robin’s eyes. It was a low blow, bringing
Dad into the conversation. Cruel, even. But I can’t help myself. I can’t watch
her sit there and pretend like everything is A-OK when she’s been obscuring a
huge part of her life from me this whole time. I cut her a lot of slack, as a
mother. A little bit of honesty isn’t too much to ask for. Fuck keeping the
peace—what I want is the truth.

“It is,” Mom finally says, lifting her eyes to mine.
Embedded in her gaze is a warning to me.
Don’t say another word about it
,
she silently commands.

But my defiant streak won’t be tamed. I level my eyes at Mom
and barrel right ahead.

“So if that scholarship hadn
’
t come
through, you would have stayed here and married John…” I go on, bringing the
moment to a crisis.

“That was the plan,” John nods.

“So if you think about it,” I say nonchalantly, leaning back
in my chair, “John is sort of, like, our almost-dad.”

Maddie and Sophie look as though they’re about to be sick,
and the older Hawthorne brothers go stock still at this observation. Out of the
corner of my eye, I see the corner of Finn’s mouth lift up into a smile at our
families’ expense. Thank god
someone
at this table shares my somewhat
depraved sense of humor. I’m more delighted by his tiny smile than is
reasonable. It almost feels like we’re on the same team.

“
Almost-dad,
” Mom laughs a little too exuberantly,
staring daggers at me all the while, “What a thing to say, Anna! You
’
ve always been the inventive one.”

“She
’
s got a point though,” John
allows, “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
says with sudden vehemence, “Seeing as
we had a dad, and all. A great dad.”

“Maddie,” Sophie mutters, trying to calm our sister.

“
Had
a dad?
” Finn asks, glancing
my way.

“
Yeah. Had. He died,
”
Maddie
says, her eyes brimming with tears as she stares accusingly at our
mother. “But I guess someone forgot to relay that information, too.”

Regret twists my core as I watch my oldest sister try to
keep it together. That’s what I get for trying to put my mother in her place.
Every time I try to cut through the bullshit and the half-truths that plague
this family, someone ends up getting hurt.

“Excuse me,”
Maddie
says tearfully,
pushing out her chair, “
I just
…
I don’
t
seem to have much of an appetite.”

She rushes out of the room, barely keeping it together.
Sophie sets down her wineglass with a heavy hand and heads off in the opposite
direction without a word. Mom glares at me across the table, as if this whole
blow-up is all my fault. And in her eyes, it probably is.

“Great. Just great,” she mutters, bustling off into the
house as Cash and Luke excuse themselves hurriedly from the table.

“Robin, hold on…” John says, following my mom, “Just hold on
a minute, there…”

And just like that, Finn and I find ourselves sitting at the
table alone together. We wait quietly for a moment, taken aback by our family’s
sudden flight. I glance over at the youngest Hawthorne brother and catch his
gleaming gaze. The second we lock eyes, a baffled burst of laughter rises in my
throat. As one, Finn and I start cracking up, barely able to contain ourselves.

“Holy fuck,” he laughs, thumping his fist on the table,
“This is such a shit show!”

“Did we wander onto the Jerry Springer set without realizing
it?” I ask, shoving a hand through my blonde hair.

“Just another day at the Hawthorne house,” Finn grins wryly,
“I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon enough, seeing as we’re
almost-siblings
and all.”

“Ugh. Don’t be gross,” I laugh, giving Finn a shove.

“You’re the one who brought it up,” he shoots back, slinging
an arm over the back of my chair. “How much of a perv does that make you for
trying to seduce me earlier?”

“Shut up!” I whisper, looking around for any eavesdroppers.
“And I was not trying to seduce you, idiot.”

“Sure,” Finn grins, leaning toward me ever so casually.

My body lights up at the closeness of him. Is he actually
flirting with me right now, or is he just trying to make me look like a dumbass
again? Every time I think I’m starting to figure this guy out, he proves me
wrong the very next second.

“What’re you staring at?” he demands, snapping me out of my
reverie.

“I’m just…trying to get a read on you,” I tell him honestly.

“What does that mean?” he laughs.

“You’ve been about five different people since I met you
yesterday,” I tell him, “The strong and silent son, the mountain man, the rock
star, the—”

“You know about my music?” he asks, leaning back in genuine
surprise.

“I…Uh…May have heard a song or two,” I tell him vaguely, “My
friends back in Vermont are really into music, so—”

“But not you?” he shoot back, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I am,” I say quickly, “I mean, it’s not my main
interest or anything, but—”

“But you just
happened
to know about my indie rock
band on the other side of the country?” he asks, zeroing in. “If I didn’t know
better, I’d say
someone’s
been doing a little digging on me.”

My mouth falls open in embarrassed surprise. I’m totally
transparent in front of this guy. It’s like I couldn’t keep a secret from him
if I tried.

“Don’t sweat it,” he shrugs, pushing back his chair, “I
don’t blame you for being curious. I mean, I am a pretty fascinating guy.”