Forbidden: A Stepbrother Secret Baby Romance

by Vesper Vaughn

  Jax finally steps out of the pool, water pouring off of his incredible body. I find myself staring again. "You know what, I'd love to stay and chat but I really do need to be getting back to work," he says, wiping his hands on a towel and picking up his notebook and laptop. He keeps his head admirably high as he walks back into the house.

  ***

  The Ladies Who Lunch finally leave after lingering far too long over a five course meal and three rounds of after-dinner coffee. I feel like my ears will never stop ringing over the noise of them all talking at once. There must have been thirty of them including the obnoxious woman from the wedding who made all of us dance. I noticed that my mother insisted she sit next to her. She must be the queen bee.

  I thought I would escape after dinner but my mother insists that the four of us go into the cigar room for a nightcap. I know this can mean nothing good. The fireplace is lit, and orange light reflects off of the dark brown mahogany walls. I shake my tumbler of brandy, the ice cubes I requested clinking against the sides. My mother shoots me a look and I stop at once.

  "Good day today?" Lyle asks the room at large. "It must have been, all three of you seem rather quiet tonight."

  Ryan is asleep upstairs, and his gentle, sleepy breathing comes through the baby monitor and echoes around the cozy room. I steal a glance at my mother, whose mouth is still set in a firm line; she stares resolutely into the flames of the fireplace.

  Jax, having missed his turn to smooth over awkwardness earlier, now takes the lead. "It was mostly quiet. Got a lot of work done."

  "That's wonderful. Did you use one of the downstairs studies? I had George shine them both up knowing you'd want to work in there like you always do,” Lyle says jovially.

  My mother interjects. "Actually, it seems that Jax prefers to work poolside when we have extra company." Her words are dripping with venom.

  Lyle either doesn't notice or pretends not to. "Poolside! Well, that's wonderful. I pay a fortune to keep that thing filled and cleaned, so I'm glad someone is making good use of it. How about you, Tessa?"

  "I was able to take a wonderful nap earlier. I haven't felt this good in years, it seems like."

  Lyle nods sagely. "I remember when Jax was born. Marianne was a zombie for at least the first two years."

  "Amazing of you to remember, Dad," Jax says with hints of anger tingeing his words. "I didn’t think you would since you always seemed to be away on...work trips."

  The already awkward room turns to ice. My mother breaks through gamely. "My goodness, with all of this excitement today I've only just remembered! Where is Paul? His flight wasn't delayed, was it?"

  I feel my stomach drop through the floor. "Um, actually, Paul called earlier. He's not going to be able to make it at all," I explain. "Work. Apparently."

  I can feel the piercing stare of my nosy mother without even looking up at her. This doesn't surprise me in the slightest. But for once, she says nothing. I should be relieved, but the incidents in which I've either humiliated or irritated her are now piling up without confrontation. I know from experience that this is not a good thing. It will only fester until she can unload on me. I’m sure she’s already concocting the blame for why her precious and anointed son-in-law couldn't make it.

  "Well, that's just awful!" Lyle exclaims. "We will certainly miss his presence for the party tomorrow."

  I look over at Jax questioningly. He shrugs his shoulders. "What party?" I ask, thinking of my paltry and inappropriate wardrobe and panicking thoroughly.

  "Your mother didn't mention it to you? Basically the whole neighborhood is coming over for Thanksgiving. Plus my coworkers, and all of your mother's friends. Should be a full house, I'm thinking. And your mother said your friend Jillian would be flying down?”

  “I did invite Jillian but I didn’t think there would be a party,” I say, panicking.

  "Did you bring anything to wear, Tessa? I'd hate for you to have to raid my closet again for an extracurricular activity." There it is. The first shots fired. She knows I took her bathing suit.

  I shake my head, biting my lip to keep from saying anything. I also know that I can't afford to go shopping with my mom; she'll make me buy something ridiculous but refuse to pay for it herself.

  "Well, I don't have time to go with you tomorrow, but you should make your way to a mall, I'm guessing."

  "Won't they be closed tomorrow?" Jax points out. "Thanksgiving. Probably better to go tonight." He checks his watch. "Hmm...it's already past nine."

  I feel embarrassed that my needs are taking up anyone else's time, especially over something so ridiculous. I feel like my mom has done this on purpose - not told me that they were having a party, just so I would be embarrassed. I hate being manipulated. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure I can make something work," I respond quickly. I feel Jax's stare burning through me. He's trying to read me. It takes everything in me to not look up at him.

  Jax suddenly stands up. "I'm going to need to be excused for the night," he explains. "I have an early day tomorrow, lots to do especially if there's going to be a party. I have work to get ahead on."

  My mom nods her head coldly. I can see the words forming behind her eyes. "Yes, I'd guess you didn't get nearly as much done today as you expected to."

  Jax opens his mouth and then shuts it. "Right you are, Cassie." He nods at his father and doesn't look at me as he leaves the room.

  "I actually need to put in a few phone calls," Lyle says, standing up kissing my mom on the head.

  "Don't stay up too late working, dear," my mom replies warmly. As soon as they are out of the room I know what's coming. She's about to turn all the fire she has been saving since this afternoon directly toward me. The door barely clicks shut behind Lyle before my mother rips into me.

  "Why isn't Paul coming?" my mom asks. The familiar, quiet fury I am so used to from my childhood is building up and burning the inside of me.

  "All he told me is that he had work to do at the office," I explain, knocking back the last of the brandy and setting the glass on the table more firmly than I mean to. For a second I think it might shatter.

  "Tessa Anne Bennett, what did you do?" she spits at me.

  There it is. Exactly the blame that I have been expecting all along. "Maybe you should call Paul and ask him that," I say quietly.

  My mother and I sit in silent for a minute. I refuse to meet her eyes. She finally stands up, smoothing her neat skirt and walking to the door. With her hand on the knob, I hear her voice. "Whatever is going on between you and Jax needs to stop. I don't want to see the two of you alone together. Understood?"

  "Yes, Mother," I reply, no trace of emotion in my voice.

  She leaves the room and a single tear rolls down my cheek.

  She never gets out of a conversation without drawing one from me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  TESSA

  On my way upstairs, I run into Jax. He motions over to me, pulling me into the shadows of the hallway.

  "So all the malls are closed, but I have a few connections," Jax says to me. He stops when he sees the look on my face. "Tessa - what happened?" His face is etched with concern. He reaches his hand out and rubs my shoulder.

  I am still fighting back tears. "It's - my mom. Don't worry about it." I shake my head as if doing so will clear the topic from the air. "What do you mean, you have connections? For what?"

  Twenty minutes later, we are driving down the dark roads away from the gates of the mansion and out into the night. Jax paid one of the staff members to stay a few hours late, handing them the baby monitor with explicit instructions to lie to my mother and tell her that they had stayed behind to do more prep for the Thanksgiving party. They were to make no mention of our absence. As Jax expertly winds his way through the hills and into the city below, I stare at him, knowing his focus is entirely on the road. The streetlights flash though the window and throw his strong jawline into relief.

  "Why are you doing this?" I ask him.

&nb
sp; Jax looks over, his brows knit together in surprise. "I...am really fucking sick of seeing you in that t-shirt and sweatpants."

  I punch him playfully on the arm.

  We turn into the parking lot of the nicest mall I have ever seen. There are palm trees everywhere, with huge bougainvillea bushes erupting in violent, fiery cover. The night is the perfect temperature. It feels like stepping into bathwater. I shiver with pleasure as I step out of the car. Jax holds the door open for me and then marches away with purpose. I have to jog to keep up with him. We walk through the gardens laced between fancy department stores. Twinkle lights hang from all the trees. We pass a few custodians who nod when they see us.

  "Hi!" I say to them. They just smile back. "Are you sure we're supposed to be here?" I ask Jax, once I manage to catch him in a burst of running.

  Jax just nods. “I have money. I can be anywhere I want to be.”

  I look up. The limestone and steel facade of Neiman Marcus is looming over me; its glittering Christmas displays beckoning to me. Jax raps sharply on the glass doors three times, then steps back, his hands in his pockets.

  "Are you sure-" I start to say, tapping my foot nervously against the ground. At that moment, an attractive, skinny, well-dressed woman in a smartly-cut black dress approaches the glass doors from the other side, pulling a key from a rubber spiral keychain and unlocking them for us.

  "Hey, Jax," the woman says to him. He leans down and kisses her on either cheek.

  "Great to see you, Emily. Everything set up?" he asks her.

  "Of course! Sorry you had to wait," she says, holding the door open for both of us, Jax marching ahead toward the escalators. All of the lights in the store are dim, and it feels eerie but welcoming in here. "There's a dressing room upstairs in women's all set up," Emily explains. "I'll be down here to lock up when you're done. Just let me know if you need anything. I pulled some stuff based off of your size estimate." Emily eyes me up and down. "I'd say that you were right. Hopefully there is something that will work for you." She says all of this to Jax in a breathless rush.

  "Great, Emily, I owe you," he says.

  Emily raises her eyebrows flirtatiously. "I know," she says. "Have fun."

  I stand there gaping at the situation, feeling a tinge of unwanted jealousy toward this impossibly skinny woman. Her heels click across the floor as she walks away from us, her slim ass bouncing slightly as she walks away. I have no idea what is going on. Presumably, yes, I am about to try on clothes. But still, my Midwestern, middle-class brain can't wrap itself around it. I keep looking around nervously like a security guard is going to arrest me. Emily trots off to a back room somewhere; Jax is halfway to the escalators. I chase after him.

  Upstairs, he leads me to a velvet-curtained dressing room that is the size of my kitchen back home. A dozen dresses of all colors and lengths hang on a rolling rack. They are sparkly and gorgeous. I run my hands over the first one, instinctively reaching inside to pull out the price tag. My eyes nearly fall out of my head.

  "Jax...I can't afford-"

  Jax waves his hand in the air. "Don't look at the tags," he replies. "I'm taking care of you tonight, okay?"

  I stammer a string of nonsense words his direction. "I - thank, thank you-"

  "Don't thank me, just try them on," he replies. He stands awkwardly for a moment in the doorway of the dressing room before pulling the thick, heavy velvet curtain across the entryway. "I'll be, uh. Out here if you need a second opinion." I'm not used to seeing Jax look flustered. It's weird.

  "I'll let you know if I need anything," I reply. I feel the urge to make fun of him, but for once he seems so sincere my heart isn't in it.

  I turn back around and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I am a mess. My clothes look like tatters in this light. I feel like Cinderella pre-fairy-godmother intervention. I pull out a navy blue dress in a conservative cut. My mom will be happy with this one. I pull it on and am stunned that it actually fits me. Jax has nailed my measurements right to the centimeter. I poke my head out of the curtain and see him sitting on a velvet chair in the corner with his ankle over his knee.

  "Need help with the zipper?" he asks, standing up and walking over toward me. I let the curtains fall away from my body and turn around. Jax's hands are nimble as they zip up the dress. I face the mirror.

  "I like it!" I say. "I think this is probably appropriate for tomorrow. No need to try on anything else."

  Jax smiles. "You look great. But we're here. You might as well try on some of the others just to make sure."

  It has been so long since I've had the opportunity to be pampered like this, I can't possibly resist. Twenty minutes later, I have a stack of five dresses that I love immensely. One is incredibly formal, three are dressy-casual, and the fifth is the navy blue one I tried on first. There is a sixth dress, but it is unbelievably sexy. I haven't had the nerve to show Jax.

  "You almost done, Tessa?" Jax asks from outside the dressing room. "Emily's out here with bras for you to try as well as some t-shirts."

  A moment later, Emily comes in and bustles around, measuring me and handing me bras to try on. Another ten minutes and the pile of clothes that I love has grown to the size of a small hill. Jax raps on the wall. "Can I come in?"

  I say yes. Emily steps out with a smile and leaves us alone. Jax looks at the pile of clothes with an appraising nod. "Is this all?" he asks.

  "Yeah, but we only came for one dress so I'm happy to just get that one."

  Jax cuts me off with a shake of his head. "I already told you. It's my pleasure."

  "I don't know how I'll pay you back for this," I say sheepishly. "I really, really don't like owing people-"

  Jax grins. "You owe me nothing. But. If you insist..." Jax shoves his hands in his jean pockets and leans against the wall. "I do have something for you to do.”

  I gulp and nod. He makes me nervous just standing there looking at me.

  “Tomorrow at the party, if you see my dad try to corner me, come over and fabricate an emergency, okay? Just make sure I'm not ever alone with my dad tomorrow night and we will be more than even."

  I shake my head. "That really doesn't seem equal to the cost of all of these clothes." I've been keeping a running total as best I can; I lost count when I passed three thousand dollars on the tags. That was at least five pieces of lingerie ago.

  "You keeping my dad away from me is worth about a million dollars, fucking trust me on that." Jax takes one last look around the room. His eyes land on the sexy, sheer, red lace dress that I've tried to hide behind another. "I didn't see you try this one on," he says, walking over and picking up the thin garment. "Did you forget it?"

  I blush. "Uh, no, I didn't forget."

  Jax's eyes flash. "Can I see it on you?"

  I lick my lips nervously. "Okay," I reply, feeling an urging coming from between my thighs. I think about him looking at me. Jax goes to leave the room. "You can stay, actually," I reply. "To save time. Just...turn around." Jax slowly pivots in place and faces the wall.

  I peel off my clothes, pop on one of my new, sexy, red bras that matches perfectly with the dress, and slip the tight-fitting garment over my body. There is a nude-colored silk lining with a sheer red lace overlay. At first blush, it appears as though I am naked underneath the lace. "Okay," I announce.

  Jax turns and faces me. The look on his face makes me feel like ripping off the dress and having him lick me until I scream.

  I have never had a man look at me like this in my entire life. He looks like he wants to swallow me whole. Jax finally looks away. "Wow, Tessa. I- I think that one is going to have to go in the pile. If you like it. Let's add that to the pile. You know. In case you have a date. With. Paul." A look that I can't read appears on his face. It looks like guilt and anger mixed together.

  The sound of Paul's name kills any energy I have. This whole night has felt like an unreal bubble suspended outside of time and space. Paul's name brings me crashing back down. I clear my throat. "I’d
better go ahead and change," I say.

  Jax leaves me standing in the dressing room. I wonder where Paul is and what exactly he is doing right now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  TESSA

  I spend Thanksgiving day playing with Ryan and surreptitiously watching YouTube videos of makeup tutorials. My mother bosses around a cadre of people preparing the house for a party that threatens to be bigger than her wedding. Mid-afternoon, I brave leaving my room and find my way back to the library, hoping to run into Jax. But the door is locked.

  I haven't seen him since we returned from our shopping adventure.

  I cobble together enough makeup from my purse to concoct an acceptable look. It has been awhile since I've applied anything other than a light coat of mascara and a smear of lip balm.

  Satisfied with the evenness of my liquid eyeliner and the smoky eye I improvise, I feed Ryan his dinner. Then I put him in his crib and slip into my navy blue dress. Suddenly, I realize that I don't have any shoes to go with the dress. All I have are snow boots and socks. I don't dare sneak back into my mom's closet. We have the same shoe size but it’s not worth running into her solo. ""Dammit," I mutter, blaming my hormonal brain. How could I have forgotten to pick out shoes?

  There is a knock at the door. "Come in," I say, not thinking that it might be my mother and briefly panicking. I look up to see Emily, the woman from Neiman’s. I blink a few times. "Emily?" I ask, wondering if I've fallen asleep and am dreaming again. A luxury department store clerk is standing in my bedroom.

  "Hi," she says, holding up three paper shopping bags. "Somebody let me in up front and told me where to find you. You need shoes! Jax called me about two hours ago."

  I pinch my arm in disbelief. "I'm sorry, did I just walk into a movie?"