"The other thing I've been wondering is, why did you leave?" he says.
I straighten my body and try to move as far from him as I can in the small space he's giving me. "I don't pick up strangers, and I don't do… that… in parking lots, for god's sake!"
He leans down, his mouth just a few inches from mine. I smell fresh air, smoky bacon, and that same soap fragrance from last night mingled on his skin. “Last night you did.” The grin on his face makes me want to smack him. “If you don't like parking lots, I have a bedroom down the hall. We could pick up right where we left off."
"What is wrong with you?" I hiss. "We're going to be related!" This time I'm somehow angry enough that I manage to shove him out of my path. I make it into my room and attempt to slam the door, but he stops it before it closes.
"Related? Our parents getting married doesn’t make us related. And I don't think we should let that stop us, darlin'." He gives me one last naughty smile before he finally lets me close the door.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I collapse on the bed and wish it would just swallow me up whole. This is why I always try to do things right. To follow the rules. To think things through before I act. The one time I act on total impulse, this is the trouble I get in.
He lives at home. What is that about? A twenty-five-year-old man, still living in his dad's house. And he wears muddy boots out to a bar, and calls me darlin', and he's still coming on to me even though we're going to be stepbrother and sister. Everything about this is all wrong!
At least, thank goodness, I didn't sleep with him, but my god, he's going to be my stepbrother, and last night he was making me moan. I need to make sure my mom and George never find out anything about that.
My mom. She's just told me wonderful news. I'm so happy for her, but it occurs to me that because I left the kitchen so quickly to escape from Billy, she might think I'm upset. I need to go back down there, but what if he's still in the hallway? Argh! So much for having a relaxing weekend in the country.
I spend a few more minutes wallowing in my frustration, and hope that Billy has gone back outside for more work in the barn. The upstairs seems quiet, but I don't know if that's a good sign, or if he's lying in wait in his bedroom down the hall.
I briefly consider making some kind of excuse so that I can head back to the city today rather than tomorrow, but I just can't do that to my mom. She had looked so pleased when George made his announcement, and she's been alone for so long. She didn't even date when I was in school. I know she made sacrifices for me, and I don't want to do anything to take away from her happiness.
I look out the window, but don't see signs of anyone outside. I move quietly over to the door, and open it very slowly. I peek my head out, and then I realize I'm being ridiculous. I'm a full grown woman, and Billy is just a man. He seems to enjoy antagonizing me, but if I don't let him know he bothers me, then maybe he'll just leave me alone.
The worst thing that could happen would be Billy telling our parents about last night, but I really doubt he'll do that. It's in his best interest to keep it a secret too.
Feeling much calmer, I take a deep breath and head downstairs. No one pounces on me or traps me against the wall. Against the wall. That thought brings up another memory of last night, when we were against the wall of the building. I do regret last night — a lot — but not entirely. He made me feel things I've never felt, and we hadn't even gotten very far. How would he have made me feel if we'd gone further?
I shake my head, trying to clear it. My mind is betraying me! I should probably bang my head against the wall instead. Why am I thinking thoughts like that about him?
My mom is alone in the living room, sitting on the couch, tidying papers on the coffee table. I sit next to her and give her a side hug.
"Congratulations, bride-to-be."
She laughs lightly and returns my hug. "I hope that wasn't too much of a shock. Maybe I should've talked to you about it before George made his announcement."
"No, it's wonderful. I'm so happy for you, mom." I give her another squeeze and then sit back on the couch. "What are your plans? I assume you're going to move in here?"
"Yes, George loves this place, and I do too." She must see a funny expression on my face that prompts her to justify her feelings. "I know, I'll bet you never thought I'd live in the country. It was an adjustment at first, when I started visiting here, but I love it now. Wait—you haven't even seen the farm yet, have you? Get your shoes. I'll show you around."
I run upstairs to retrieve my shoes, and am relieved there's still no sign of Billy. When I'm back downstairs, my mom leads me into the kitchen and out the way George and Billy had entered this morning. There's a large laundry room, with part of it functioning as a mud room; and in this case, the mud is literal.
I notice that most of the footwear by the door, just like Billy's boots, is dirty, and the carpet is streaked with mud.
My mom notices my gaze and says, "It's impossible to keep this area clean. At least the guys are good about taking their boots off out here and not tracking dirt into the house."
Then she looks down at my feet. "Did you bring shoes you don't mind getting dirty?"
I'd brought the most casual pair of shoes I own, but they probably won’t hold up to mud. "These are old. It's okay," I fib.
She slips on a pair of boots and I'm again struck by how different my mom seems. Different, and happy.
As we walk toward the barn I take in deep breaths of the cool, fresh air. The ground is soft, but not as bad as I'd feared. It looks like my shoes might survive. When we approach the building, two big dogs trot out to greet us.
"These filthy beasts are Milo and Charlie," my mom says with a smile, gesturing first to the retriever, and then the hound.
"Aww, sweet." I stop to let the dogs sniff me, and then I rub their heads. I'd always wanted a dog when I was growing up, but wasn't allowed. And now I don't have the space or the lifestyle to give a dog a good home.
We continue on and find George in the barn grooming a horse with a big, round brush. "Oh, I didn’t realize you had horses," I say, stopping a few feet away from him. I look around and see two others from where I stand.
"Yep, sure do," George says. "Maybe you'd like to go riding later?"
"That sounds like fun," I say. And a little scary, I think. I have vague memories of being on a horse when I was little, but it was probably at a carnival or a fair. Horseback riding has always looked like fun, but now that I'm this close to one of the huge animals, I'm intimidated. I hadn't remembered them being so large.
We watch George care for the big, brown horse for a few minutes, and then we continue our tour. We don't walk far from the house; instead we make a big circle around it as my mom gestures to far flung areas of the property, telling me about distant, unseen neighbors, and about plans she has for planting flowers and vegetables later in the spring.
I want to ask her what they do for fun out here with nothing around, and whether she really thinks she'll be happy living here full time, but I can't think how to word my questions without sounding negative.
Like me — well, like the me I typically am, not the me who was in the bar last night — my mother isn't a person who rushes into things, so I'm sure she's thought it all through.
"When do you and George plan to get married?" I ask.
She slows to a stop and looks at me. “At our age, we see no reason for a long engagement. I was hoping you’d help us with wedding plans and… do you think we’d be able to throw something together in a month’s time?”
My first thoughts are about how impossible that would be, but again I stop myself before I voice anything negative. Instead I ask, “What do you have in mind?”
"We've talked about having it here at the farm.” She gestures around the yard as she speaks. “What do you think?"
I look around the property and switch into planner mode. There is certainly plenty of space available. I picture a tent large enough for tables and maybe even a dance floor f
or the reception, and the hillside to the left of the house would be the perfect place for an archway and rows of seating for the ceremony. The backdrop of green and golden fields would be beautiful.
"Let's start planning!" I say.
As we head back into the house, Billy and Tommy pass by us on their way outside. Both are wearing baseball caps and carrying mitts. Billy looks at me with narrowed eyes and a lewd smirk that no one else can see. When he passes, he brushes against me even though there is plenty of space around us.
"Lunch will be ready in half an hour, guys," my mom calls after them.
"Lunch? Already?" I ask.
She laughs. "I know. Big, frequent meals have been an adjustment for me. These boys are always hungry. It's really strange being in a house with three males."
"I'll bet.”
We talk wedding plans while I help her prepare a lunch of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. When the food is almost ready, my stomach starts to tighten into a knot as I dread seeing Billy again. I'm not hungry, and I'd like to skip the meal, but good manners again prevent me from hiding in my room.
"Kate, can you let the boys know lunch is ready? And ask Tommy to run and get George?" I'm about to leave the kitchen to do as she's asked, when my mom laughs, almost to herself. "Just think, sweetie, you're finally going to have some siblings. Two brothers.”
I try to make some sort of reply that sounds like I'm excited about the idea, but all I can think of is Billy’s hand on my ass. Brother. What a joke.
Chapter 9
Before I call out to Tommy and Billy, I watch them through the window. They're playing catch, and though I can't hear them, I can tell from their expressions and body language that they're having fun and probably taunting one another.
I'm going to have stepbrothers. It's a strange thought. Growing up, I'd liked being an only child, and I think it's the reason my mom and I are so close. But now that I'm older, I envy people's relationships with their brothers and sisters.
However, I've also seen a lot of siblings fight with each other, but George's sons seem to get along great, maybe because of their age difference.
Billy is throwing fly balls high into the air, making them challenging for Tommy to catch. Billy's body truly is a sight to behold. For a moment, I disconnect the thought of his frustrating personality from his physical appearance, and just gaze at him in wonder.
His arms are like small tree trunks, and his shoulders are ridiculously broad. When he stretches his arms up to throw the ball, his t-shirt hitches up and I catch a glimpse of his tightly muscled abs, and—what was that? I watch closely as he throws again, and see a dark, detailed tattoo right above his hip. I wonder what the ink portrays, and how far downward it extends…
What is wrong with me? Maybe if I'd done the deed with him last night, I wouldn't still be having these inappropriate lingering thoughts. Maybe he wouldn't even have been good at it. A beautiful body doesn't automatically equal good sexual skills.
But as I watch the ease with which he moves as he plays catch, and see the control he has over his massive physique, I know I'm just trying to tell myself lies.
Lunch goes so smoothly that I almost start to relax. There is some light conversation, but for the most part, everyone focuses on their food. I'd forgotten how good my mom's grilled cheese sandwiches are, and my appetite grows after I take the first few bites.
Then I feel a nudge against my leg. At first I think one of the dogs has come in and is under the table, but when I look up, I see Billy staring at me, smirking.
I stare daggers back at him. He returns to eating his soup while his foot moves higher along the inside of my calf.
I fidget, but there is no where I can move to get out of his reach without drawing attention to myself.
"Are you up for horseback riding after lunch, Kate?" George asks.
"Sure, that sounds great," I say. My apprehension about the horses is overridden by my desire to get out of here and away from Billy. But then he speaks up.
"I'll take Kate out," Billy says. "I invited her to go riding after breakfast, but she wasn't up for it then." His words carry an artful touch of innuendo. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough to make it perfectly clear to me that when he says "riding," he's referring to his invitation to join him in his bedroom earlier today.
His meaning is made clearer still to me as he stealthily rubs his foot against the inside of my knee while he talks.
"Okay, that'll work," George says. "Then I can help Tommy with his science project. How's that coming?" George turns to his youngest son and their conversation continues, while my mom looks at Billy and me, clearly pleased that we seem to be getting along so well.
I feel like a trapped rabbit, eager to get away but unable to make a move.
Billy continues to touch me under the table with his foot. I ignore him as he works his way further up my leg and into my lap. When I feel his sock-covered foot against my thighs, trying to nudge my legs apart, I reach down and dig my fingers into the bottom of his foot, hoping that he's ticklish.
He is.
Billy's knee thumps the bottom of the table as he jerks it away from me. I struggle to hold in laughter while he makes excuses about having a leg cramp. I give him a satisfied smile before I return to my lunch.
After the meal, I dawdle in the kitchen, helping my mom and George clean up. Billy leaves the room, but returns in a few minutes, asking if I'm ready to go.
"I've changed my mind," I say. “My mom and I need to get started on the wedding plans."
"Don't be silly," my mom says. "We can talk later. You'll love riding, and the trails are beautiful."
"Make sure she rides Gracie," George adds.
"Of course," Billy says. "Let's go, Kate."
He sounds all innocence and kindness, and I can't think of any way to get out of the situation. Reluctantly, I follow him.
In the hall, he says, "Gracie will be gentle." Then, when we're out of our parents' earshot, he leans in close and adds, "I can be gentle too, unless you prefer it rough."
I shove his chest, not that my effort has any effect on him. "Listen, Billy," I hiss. "This has got to stop. I'm not going anywhere with you until you agree to stop harassing me."
"I'm harassing you?" He sounds slightly surprised at my words.
"I'm very, very sorry about last night. I've never done anything like that before, and I never plan to again. I just broke up with my boyfriend yesterday, and obviously I wasn't thinking clearly."
Billy stares at me for a moment, seeming to process what I've said.
"Would it be possible for us to start over?" I say. "Could we just try to be friends, for our parents' sake?"
He continues to stare, his expression complicated and unreadable. When he finally speaks, his tone is neutral, no longer taunting or flirtatious.
"Do you want to change your clothes?" he says.
"What do you mean?" I look down at my lounge wear, the soft, casual tunic and loose-fitting pants I often wear on the weekends when I'm at home.
"Do you have jeans, or something you don't mind getting dirty?"
I do have jeans, but they're designer jeans that I usually pair with heels and silk. I don't particularly want them smelling like horse. "I'm fine," I say. "Let's go get this over with."
"Ow," Billy says, placing his palm over his heart like he’s been hurt. "Is that any way to talk to a friend?"
I let out a brief snort of laughter and follow him out to the barn.
Chapter 10
For the most part, I stay out of the way while Billy gets the horses ready. Gracie turns out to be a very pretty tan mare with a pale golden mane and kind eyes. She doesn't look as intimidating as Billy's horse, a giant beast called “Buck.”
When our rides are ready, Billy helps me mount Gracie, and I'm relieved that he doesn't try to touch me inappropriately, even though he has several opportunities as I struggle to get into position.
He shares some simple tips, assures me that
Gracie is as gentle as they come, and that she'll know what to do on our ride. I grip the saddle horn tightly when we first head out, but our pace is slow and steady, and after a few minutes I begin to loosen up.
Though I hadn't anticipated horseback riding, I finally feel like I'm having the relaxing weekend-in-the-country experience I'd been hoping for. The views around us are endless and beautiful, and the only sounds are the horses' hooves, birdsong, and grasses blowing in the breeze. We ride without speaking, down along a gentle slope and toward the wooded area of their property. My head seems to clear and I momentarily let go of all of the stresses of the last twenty-hour hours.
When we reach the forest, Billy breaks the silence. "How are you doing?"
"Great," I say, giving Gracie a little pat.
"Would you like to continue, or go back?"
"Let's keep going."
He smiles at me and we spur the horses on. Soon we're surrounded by trees, but the trail is wide enough for us to ride beside each other. Everything around us seems very still.
"So what happened with your boyfriend?" Billy asks.
I sigh. That situation seems very far away right now.
"That's okay. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he says.
"No, it's okay. Maybe it would be good for me to talk about it. I haven't even really processed it yet."
Billy looks over at me, but remains quiet.
"I left work early yesterday and caught him with another woman."
He flinches. "Caught him… in the act?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. Thank god. Just at a bar, but it was obvious what was going on."
"Well, he must be an idiot," Billy says.
I sigh again. "I thought he was the perfect man for me. We have similar interests. We want the same things in life. I even thought we might be about to get engaged." I laugh coldly at the thought of that. "Boy, was I dumb."
"There's no reason you should feel bad about yourself. Be glad you found out about him now rather than later."
Beast Brothers Page 15
