My Not So Wicked Stepbrother (My Not So Wicked Series Book 1)

by Jennifer Peel

  I pulled in behind Sawyer’s old, beat-up blue truck. I couldn’t help but smile. It reminded me of what a good and decent person he was. I know Dad had offered him a loan to start his own practice, but Sawyer wanted to do it on his own. I loved him even more for it. Unlike his mother, who was happy to take Dad’s money, Sawyer never seemed interested in it.

  I had to remind myself I was in Sawyer detox, so it was best not to dwell on his attributes. With my resolve kind of sort of in place, I hopped out of my Jeep.

  I didn’t even make it to the house before Marlowe and Macey ran out with more exuberance than they normally showed. They still called the Ranch home. Each of them was dressed up. Marlowe wore a stunning white maxi dress and Macey was in a navy halter dress that showed off her long, beautiful legs. The same legs Marlowe had. I looked down at my own legs; they were mostly shaved and tan, that was all I was going to say about them.

  “Emma, you’re late, everyone else is already at the chapel. We were waiting for you,” Marlowe complained while shaking her ebony mane.

  “I’m not late. The ceremony doesn’t start for twenty minutes and it’s not like we know the couple.” I would have been earlier, but I had forgotten I wasn’t wearing a bra. It wasn’t like my girls were big enough to poke an eye out, but I was wearing a light blue T-shirt and it would have been awkward, to say the least, if I hadn’t remembered halfway down my street that my tatas were flying free.

  Macey, the sweeter of the two, looped her arm through mine. “But this is Ashton’s first time officiating.”

  Did I detect some dreaminess when she said Ashton’s name? Ashton was handsome. Not as handsome as Sawyer, but he had the athletic build and angular face most women found attractive. I probably didn’t think he was gorgeous because he looked too much like his mother with his dark eyes and auburn hair. I could see why someone would find him so, but I didn’t think it was a good idea for my baby sister to. He was eleven years older than the girls and recently divorced. Then there was the fact that he was our . . . dare I say it? Stepbrother. Ugh. If I couldn’t be with a stepbrother, neither could they.

  Marlowe practically jogged passed us in heels.

  “Why are you two so dressed up? I thought this was casual.”

  Marlowe barely paused. “No reason.” She picked up the pace again.

  Macey broke loose from me and matched Marlowe’s pace. They began to see who could walk faster, pushing each other on the gravel path. What was going on with them?

  It didn’t take us long to arrive at the “chapel.” It wasn’t a chapel at all, but an outdoor amphitheater with wood benches for seating. In the front stood a pergola covered in crawling roses, all pink, of course. Mom and Dad were married under that very pergola, except it wasn’t here, it was at a country club in Edenvale. As a first-year wedding anniversary present, Dad had the pergola moved here. Mom planted the roses. There had yet to be a divorce for anyone who married under that symbol of love. Mom had made sure to keep tabs on each couple who had married here. That was my job now. I sent a gift basket filled with handmade truffles and other goodies to each couple on their anniversary, just like Mom had done. It was time consuming, but it helped me feel connected to Mom. And I knew she would fret if it wasn’t done. I couldn’t have her blaming herself for another celebrity breakup all because she died and didn’t get the baskets out. I was sure she was already in a tizzy now that she knew Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling were no longer a couple. That information had to be readily available in heaven.

  Marlowe and Macey raced to Ashton, who was looking nervous while he paced in a white shirt and jeans near the pergola. I guess it would be nerve-racking to join together two people in holy matrimony. There were several guests already seated in the audience. Typically, anyone who was currently vacationing at the Ranch was invited unless it was an invitation only ceremony. From what I knew, this couple was visiting from South Dakota and had decided on Friday to take the plunge and they welcomed any guests. The only reason they waited until today was because the bride wanted to find the perfect dress. My sisters had informed me they’d helped the bride out since they lived and breathed fashion. They were saints.

  I admit I stalled on the precipice of the lowest level of the amphitheater. I pretended to look at how much the pine trees had grown since I’d last been there an entire month ago. I was sad to report I didn’t see much change. Then I thought maybe I should wish Ashton luck. Anything to not face Sawyer or his mom, who I knew was sitting up several rows between my two favorite men. I had good peripheral vision. And her big hair was hard to miss. I headed toward Ashton, but it wasn’t meant to be.

  “Em, up here,” Sawyer called.

  Internally I sighed before plastering on a smile and looking up.

  Sawyer was standing up waving at me. Josephine was tugging on his shorts telling him to sit down. I wasn’t surprised. She didn’t seem to care for Sawyer’s and my friendship. She was always trying to keep us away from each other at family functions for some weird reason. Once, she went as far as suggesting I move seats at the dinner table. I declined.

  I sucked it up and walked up the aisle to the fifth row where they all sat. Dad stood up as I approached, looking as handsome as ever in his signature plaid button-up. I noticed his raven hair had more gray in it and his brown eyes were tired. They looked like that a lot now. I gave up asking him if he was okay because he would only nod. He gave me a smile, but something was missing from it. It wasn’t the warm, how-is-my-Emma-Bear smile. It was cordial. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  “Hi, Dad.” I hesitated to hug him, which made my stupid eyes tear up. When did I start questioning whether to show my own father affection? Josephine glared up at me from her sitting position, giving me all the answer I needed. I wasn’t going to let her take that away from me. I wrapped my arms around Dad and took comfort in the fact that he reciprocated so strongly with no hesitation at all.

  “Emma—”

  “You were cutting it close,” Josephine’s acidic voice with a hint of fake sweetness interrupted Dad.

  Our father-daughter moment was gone. I pulled away from Dad and faced the woman who was reaching up and digging her claws literally and metaphorically into Dad. If she gripped his arm any tighter it might require a crowbar to wrench it away.

  I smiled at her. “As long as you show up before the bride walks down the aisle, I’d say you’re in plenty of time.”

  Sawyer chuckled until his mom turned to him with her left brow raised so high I thought it might stick like that. With all the extra collagen she had pumped in there, it was possible. I had this urge to poke it and see if I could push it down.

  Sawyer waved off his mom’s attempt at intimidation. He patted the seat next to him. “I saved you a spot.”

  “Emma will probably want to sit up front so she can see better since she’s, you know . . .”

  “Short?” I laughed.

  “I was going to say height challenged, but I didn’t want to offend you.”

  I didn’t believe that for one second but played along. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.” That was the beauty of amphitheater style seating. What was an issue was the man smiling sweetly at me waiting for me to sit by him. Perhaps Josephine was right, though I hated to say it. Maybe I should sit in the front row.

  “You know, I think I will sit up front, so I can snap some pictures for the Ranch’s social media pages.” I turned to leave.

  “I’ll come with you.” Sawyer stood up.

  “Thank you, but—”

  Sawyer tilted his head, his eyes begging to know why I was ditching him.

  It panged my heart because, truly, he was the best friend I had ever had, and I hated that because I wanted more, we needed to be less. But I couldn’t tell him that. Instead, I made up a pathetic excuse on the fly, which never turns out well. “What I meant to say was the seats up here are more comfortable and . . .” I had nothing. Absolutely nothing but three peop
le staring at me as if I was crazy. Well you know what? I was. That’s what being in love with your stepbrother does to you. There, I said the freaking S-word.

  Dad reached out and touched my arm. “Are you feeling all right, Emma?”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything.

  Josephine’s eyes said she suspected all along I was crazy and now I was proving her right. I didn’t dare look at Sawyer. Instead, I turned on a dime and hightailed it to the front.

  Sawyer beat me there, jumping over benches and a small child all while his mom called after him to come back. Why was he acting like that? We were causing a scene.

  I took a seat in the front row on the right side, trying to pretend I hadn’t noticed Sawyer’s crazy antics. Sawyer ended up on the left but made a quick course correction as soon as I sat down.

  He cozied right up to me, making me feel as if heaven and hell had collided. “You’re right, the wooden benches down here are much more uncomfortable than the ones up there.” He nudged me and laughed before turning serious and hitting me full force with his amber eyes. “What’s going on with you, Em? Did I do something?”

  Yes, he had. He had given me false hope and the vision of what a life full of love and laughter could be like and it killed me that I could never have it, could never have him. Why couldn’t he have been a polygamist or felon? Heck, I would have even taken halitosis, or that he chewed with his mouth open. But, no, his breath was amazing and his manners were impeccable. Darn him.

  In response to his inquiry I shook my head and faced forward. What I saw in front of me was trouble brewing. My sisters were definitely flirting with Ashton, and worse, he was flirting back. There was copious amounts of touching going on and fits of giggles marked by leaning. Maybe that was my problem, I had never properly learned to lean. Instead of learning to burp the alphabet, I should have studied up on that.

  Sawyer wasn’t going to be ignored. “Em.” He tugged on my ponytail.

  I turned to face him. His concerned amber eyes glistened in the summer sun, making them even more attractive. It wasn’t helping, so I did some butt kicking and yep, it was painful. “Did you have fun with Shelby yesterday?”

  He squinted. “It was fine. But what does that have to do with anything?”

  Basically everything. Couldn’t say that either. “I was just wondering.”

  “It would have been more fun with you.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Em, come on. Tell me what’s wrong. Has something happened at work?”

  “Work is great. I’m great. Like so, so, so great.” I flashed him a sardonic smile.

  He nudged me several times in a row. “You are so, so, so lying. Why?”

  “What makes you think I’m lying?”

  “It may have something to do with how you think the wood benches up there are more comfortable. And you’ve never turned down Las Delicias before yesterday.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Maybe I wasn’t in the mood for Mexican food.” That was a lie. I was always in the mood for smothered burritos. “And,” I scooted my butt around the bench, “this bench definitely feels harder.”

  Sawyer let out a heavy breath. “Whatever you say, Em. I’m here if you want to talk.”

  “I know,” I whispered. He didn’t know how bad I wanted to blurt out that I loved him and ask if he could try to love me too. I already knew the answer.

  Marlowe and Macey joined us on the hard bench, twittering with anticipation. Dad and Josephine ended up in the row behind us. Dad didn’t look happy about having to move and Josephine gave me a look that said she had her eyes on me.

  Why did she care if Sawyer and I were friends? It’s not like I was saying bad things to him about her. I knew how much Sawyer loved his mother. And I had only said one bad thing about her to Dad. Before they were married, I begged him to reconsider or to give it some more time. I also may have mentioned that I thought she had the classic signs of a gold digger, and possibly her love for him had more to do with the size of his bank account. Dad hadn’t taken kindly to my insinuations. He had muttered something about me not knowing what it was like to lose a spouse before he stomped away and slammed the door. He was right. I didn’t. The fact that he had said it pierced my soul. Mom would have never said anything so cold. She knew how much I wanted to be married, to know that kind of love.

  Maybe I didn’t know what it was like to lose a spouse, but I knew what it was like to lose the person who had loved me more than anyone. I knew what it was like to lose love. I knew what love looked like because Dad and Mom had shown me, and it didn’t look like the couple who sat behind me. Their affection always seemed forced, as in Josephine forcing it on Dad. I never saw him take her hand like he used to take Mom’s. He never smiled at her like he did with Mom as he’d wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. Dad used to look alive with Mom. Now he was vacant and distant, even after I had apologized right before he got married.

  The bride and groom came walking out of the forest clearing on the path that led to the honeymoon cabin. It was the most modern cabin on the property. The inside was stunning, done in all white. It was one big open room with the most incredible four poster bed covered in, you guessed it, pink linens and pillows. Mom loved that little cabin and was so delighted each time it was rented out. She made extra special care to stock it with her finest chocolates and wine from a nearby vineyard. She and Dad used to sneak away and spend the night there when they wanted alone time.

  This couple looked about as in love as my parents had been. The tall, gangly groom only had eyes for his bride, who was dressed in a crepe ivory maxi dress. It was classic with a hint of casual.

  “Love the dress,” I whispered to my sisters.

  “We just started carrying them in the store,” Macey informed me.

  “I told her it would look best if she wore her hair up,” Marlowe complained.

  I thought the bride’s red hair was lovely draped to the side in waterfall curls.

  “Keep your voice down.” Macey elbowed Marlowe.

  “Your elbows are looking ashy,” Marlowe zinged Macey.

  “Well, if someone would stop stealing my moisturizer—”

  “Ladies,” I whispered, “perhaps this could wait until after the ceremony.”

  “Okay, Mom,” Marlowe snarled.

  The girls had both complained over the years that I tried to act like their mother. Maybe there was some truth to it. When Mom brought home two baby girls, I thought one was for me. Mom may have reminded me a time or two growing up that they already had a mother. I was only trying to be helpful. That was my story and I was sticking to it.

  We all went from focusing on the bride and groom to Ashton, who looked like he flipped a switch. Now he was all cool and confident. Ashton smiled brightly at the couple in front of him. “Buddy, you lucked out.” Ashton made everyone laugh.

  I snapped a few pictures of the jovial scene.

  Ashton held his hands out like a Southern Baptist ready to preach about hellfire. “We come together today to bring this lucky guy and this gorgeous woman together in holy matrimony.” He began to sound like an Elvis impersonator. “Marriage brings two people together in a way nothing else can. It brings out the best and sometimes the worst in us.”

  Ashton was deeper than I gave him credit for.

  Sawyer was nodding to my side, agreeing silently with his brother.

  “The secret is,” Ashton continued in his Elvis/preacher voice, “to never take each other for granted. To see each day together as a gift, for there is no better present than finding your soul mate.”

  Unless he was your stepbrother and about to be taken. Unfortunately, I sighed audibly while lamenting, wondering if I could get a refund or an exchange on the gift I’d been given.

  Sawyer whispered in my ear, “You ever think about doing this?” He flicked his head toward the bride and groom.

  I nodded. “How about you?” I tried to keep my voice down to peep level.

&nb
sp; “Lately, all the time.”

  I object.

  Chapter Six

  There was nothing like cupcakes to soothe your soul, especially when they were pumped full of raspberry lemon filling and topped with the best buttercream known to man. Frankie was a culinary rock star. Cupcakes and punch in the barn were part of the complimentary package for anyone who eloped at the Ranch.

  “Frankie, I could kiss you right now.” I licked the buttercream on my second cupcake instead.

  “What would you think if I added toasted coconut to the filling next time?” Frankie was adding more cupcakes to the cupcake stands. Word spread there was free food to be had and guests were filing into the informal reception.

  “I think it’s genius. Let’s add them to the menu for the Farewell to Summer dance.” I had taken that tradition over too since Mom’s passing. At the end of the summer season before we closed the guest ranch, we always held a big dance here in the barn. All the guests that stayed with us that summer were invited to come, as well as the entire town of Carrington Cove. It was the hottest ticket in town, with a live band and the best food around. “I want to go all out this year to celebrate since it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary. As a tribute to mom, I thought we could do a slideshow of years past and ask former guests to talk about their memories here and of mom.”

  Frankie looked up with a rare smile on her no-nonsense, smooth-but-aged face. “Your mom would love that. Let me know what else you want on the menu that night. Assuming I’m still here.” She glared at Josephine, who had an iron grip on Dad while scanning the barn like a hawk.

  “Don’t say that,” I whispered.

  Frankie harrumphed, making her gray wispy bangs fly. “I promised you until the end of the summer, but past that I make no promises. And who knows, the wicked witch may decide to fire me before then.”

  I shook my head, startled. “Dad would never allow that.”