by Cara Dee
“Can I trust you to keep this to yourself?” I asked. “I won’t stand for her becoming uncomfortable in her own home because you noticed she’s developed curves.”
“And those curves,” he groaned. “Did you see—”
“Jace,” I snapped.
“Oh, fine.” He grumbled to himself and went back to inhaling his food.
Must be nice to be him in this position. Unlike me, he hadn’t provided for Belle since she was a young child. She’d never called him Dad. Jace had come over for Sunday dinners and brought souvenirs to her from his adventures. Then he’d made his way to his home. His responsibilities had ended there.
I’d gone on to marry Belle’s mother. I’d given Belle my name. And since her mother died of cancer six years ago, I’d been Belle’s sole provider. Because who else was going to do it? They didn’t know who her biological father was, and her mother’s sister didn’t show enough interest. We’d lost touch in recent years.
Damn if I was going to put Belle’s well-being into the hands of people who treated her as an afterthought. No, I was her father, and I could continue to suppress my ridiculous urges. They probably weren’t even urges, merely misplaced thoughts.
It had been a long time since I’d dated. Maybe it was time for me to get back out there. I certainly didn’t mourn Belle’s mother anymore, and I’d been a stepfather longer than I’d been a husband.
After this summer, I decided. I could join one of those dating sites, which held zero appeal. But it was time.
Shortly after, bare feet padded along the floorboards, and Belle appeared in the doorway wearing an old band tee of Jace’s and a pair of cotton shorts. What was it with the length of shorts these days? Was fabric scarce?
Jace coughed into his coffee.
I hoped he burned himself.
“Good morning, darling.” I rose from my stool and switched on the stove again. The pancake batter was waiting for me. “Take a seat and I’ll make pancakes.”
She grinned sleepily and walked over to me. “I’m so glad to be home.” Sneaking under my arm, she wrapped her arms around my middle, and I chuckled. It truly was an affectionate girl who’d stepped off that plane. “Is there anything I can do, Daddy?”
I tilted my head.
Jace snorted behind us.
Daddy…
“No,” I responded slowly as my mind started spinning. “You can relax and let me take care of this.”
“’Kay.” With a slight blush covering her cheeks, Belle pulled her hair into a high, messy bun at the top of her head, and then she left the kitchen area to turn on the TV.
“Is she for real?” Jace whispered. “She’s never called you Daddy before, has she? The way she did it… Man, that’s pure filth.”
“Let it go,” I whispered back, irritated. Wound up. There was nothing to read into here. I was a good father, damn it. Was it so incomprehensible that she’d missed me and was comfortable enough to let go of her adult thinking for a while? I was only glad. Children grew up too quickly, especially if they lost a parent too soon. Let her be my little sprite while she got rid of her jet lag and made herself at home again.
Come to think of it, she’d acted similarly the first week last summer. We’d barely left the loft, opting to stay in and watch movies and catch up. I could think of nothing I wanted more.
In fact, while I made the pancakes, I pulled out a notepad and jotted down a list of things to get at the market. It was going to be a week of favorites and indulgences, anything to coax out her beautiful smile and let her green eyes light up.
The sectional in the living room became our home for the following two days. Belle, after getting caught up on Jace’s recovery, wanted to do some belated fussing to make sure he was okay. He sure as hell didn’t complain. Sprawled out in the corner of the large sofa, he grinned like a king and greedily took every bit of attention.
“You’ll stay here for the summer, though, right?” Belle plopped down next to Jace after rubbing his calf. “You shouldn’t be alone up in the cabin.”
“Listen to her, Jace.” I took a sip of my coffee and changed the channel on the flat screen. “Belle, the movie you wanted to see starts now.”
Jace grabbed the bowl of popcorn. “Hey, I’ll stay until you kick me out.”
That wouldn’t happen.
Belle crawled over to me and decided to use my lap as a pillow.
I smiled down at her and combed back some stray hair from her forehead. The pink was growing on me, and it made her look even more carefree and youthful.
My movie picks were voted down quickly, so I read while Belle and Jace enjoyed action and horror. At one point, I tried to get up and leave so I could read in my room, but Belle didn’t like that.
“It’s not a family reunion if you’re not here.” The duh in her voice wasn’t lost on me.
So I stayed and got lost in the latest book by Aiden Roe.
I emailed briefly with Jace’s agent too.
Halfway through a second movie, he had a coughing fit.
“Are you all right?” I frowned.
He nodded and sat up straight, a closed fist covering his mouth. “Yeah—shit. A word?”
Belle sat too, so I could get up from the couch, and I told her I’d start dinner while I was at it. She and Jace had requested lasagna today.
“Okay, but tomorrow, I’m making dinner,” she said. “You’ve done all the work.”
Doting on her was hardly work.
Jace followed me to the kitchen, and he kept his voice down as I took out ingredients from the fridge.
“She’s fucking indecent, Andrew.” He started ranting under his breath. “Did you see her? She pulled her knee up—”
“Oh, that’s crossing the line,” I mocked. “I can’t believe she lay down between us and put her knee up. The audacity.”
He shot me an impatient look. “Are you finished?”
“Are you?” Because I was done hearing his accusations. Yesterday, he was sure she was taunting us by wearing another one of his T-shirts and a pair of my loose boxer shorts. To be fair, a lot of women wore those as pajamas. She was back in her own cotton shorts today.
“She’s not wearing any goddamn panties, okay?” he snapped.
That halted me, and I glanced over at the couch to make sure Belle couldn’t hear us.
Jace took a breath. “One leg down, one knee up. What the fuck do you think happens? I could see right up her—”
“That’s enough,” I replied hurriedly. “Just…” I didn’t know what to say. Surely, she hadn’t done…that…on purpose. To show him anything. It made me uncomfortable to consider. Even more uncomfortable was the image of her in my mind—sweet and unspoiled, and then…with her legs spread.
I cleared my throat and busied myself with preparing the ground beef.
Food—I was going to think solely of food. Making dinner, chopping vegetables, maybe even preparing snacks for tomorrow, or perhaps lunch. Suppress, suppress, suppress. Fantasies I’d had over the years, how drawn I secretly was to certain fetishes, were pushed down and locked into a box.
“I’ll leave it alone.” He lifted his brows. “But if it turns out I’m right… If she makes a move, I won’t turn her down.”
The anger that surged up within me took me aback, and I glared at his retreating form. Refocusing on the food, I heard him get comfortable on the couch with Belle, and her giggle made my blood boil. Was he serious? Was I the only one who saw how inappropriate this was?
Chapter 3
“Belle, dinner’s…” ready. Fuck. The sentence died on my tongue as I stepped out onto the terrace upstairs. It was only a three-story building; would the fall kill me if I jumped? Because I was sure I deserved it.
These past few days, Jace’s words had gone on a loop in my head, and I’d grown more…observant, I supposed was a good word. Everything Belle did, I analyzed. Was she being deliberately provocative? As she emerged from the pool in a skimpy bikini that didn’t hide her delec
table body whatsoever, I had my doubts.
Then again, kids nowadays wore too little in general. Right?
“Hi, Daddy!” She smiled widely and grabbed a towel from a lounger. “Is dinner ready yet?”
I nodded with a dip of my chin, staying by the door. I was having a difficult time looking away from her curvy little body. My skin felt hotter, and I cursed myself straight to hell. Her breasts were more than a handful. God, but she was lovely. Sinfully so. When she turned around to get her phone, her perfect ass had my attention. Soft-looking, round, not even a little contained in her scrap of a bikini bottom. It jiggled as she fetched her clothes from another lounger, and then she was walking toward me again.
Northern Washington didn’t get any tropical heat in the summer, and it showed. She shivered, and her nipples were tight little buds behind the white fabric.
A blazing trail of desire dropped to my gut. I had to let her walk ahead of me so I could adjust my erection.
I’m going to hell.
The shame was nearly crippling.
On our way down the stairs to the loft, Belle told me she was heading out next weekend to go dancing with some friends. In the meantime, I released a breath of relief when she finally pulled the large towel around her.
Then I replayed what she’d said and shook my head to clear it. “Where exactly are you guys going?” I asked. Because even though we’d begun our annual tradition of celebrating holidays in advance—starting with her birthday the day before yesterday—she wasn’t actually twenty-one yet.
“I think this is one of those times where the less you know, the better,” she teased.
I wasn’t amused.
I trusted her, though. She’d never been too disrespectful—even in her hormonal, rebellious phase at seventeen—nor had she stumbled home drunk or broken any curfew.
“Hourly check-ins,” I told her as we reached the door to the loft. “A text is fine, and you’ll be home before two.”
“Are you giving me a curfew?” She looked up at me with a scrunch of her nose.
I tapped it with a finger. “You bet I am.” Opening the door, I headed to the kitchen and asked Belle if she could tell Jace that dinner was ready. His studio and my office took up the first floor of the building, and he’d been down there most of the day. When he was frustrated, tinkering with his camera equipment calmed him down.
Maybe it worked with sexual frustration as well, I didn’t know. I hoped the kid suffered. Damn him for putting these thoughts in my head. As if Belle actually wanted anything from Jace—or me, for that matter. The latter was laughable.
Jace went to the gym for rehab on his leg after dinner, and I had work to do. A couple of hours of rearranging Jace’s fall schedule was enough to cool my head, and then I lost another two once the Tokyo stock exchange opened.
I had a bathroom in my office, and when my eyes felt too heavy, I went in there to remove my contacts and switch to glasses instead. Then I was back behind my desk and my two computer screens.
“Daddy?”
My head snapped up, and I spotted Belle in the doorway.
Mother of God.
This wasn’t okay. I eyed her nightwear, a new baby-doll outfit that ended right below her ass. What’re you up to, little girl? She was barefoot, and she shifted her weight.
“Yeah, baby?” Why the fuck did I call her that? I hadn't done that in…ever, really. Perhaps once or twice when she was sick.
“When’re you coming up?” she asked. “I got a text from Jace. He’s staying at the cabin tonight.”
Why would he do such a thing? I wanted him here, away from rivers and mountaintops, while he was still in recovery.
“I should probably call it a night,” I decided.
After powering off my computers, I followed Belle out of the office, and I locked up before we took the stairs to the third floor.
“I wish we had an elevator,” she mumbled.
I chuckled.
To my surprise, she grabbed my pinkie. She made no comment, and she didn’t look at me. It was a small gesture, a sweet one, yet it had an extreme effect on me. It opened the floodgates, and I was assaulted by desires put into words. I wanted to hold her close and protect her. I wanted to force my way deep inside her. I wanted to make sure she was always happy. I wanted her to kneel before me and take me in her mouth. I tried and fucking tried; I couldn’t suppress the thoughts any longer. They swirled around my head all the way up to the loft.
What would it be like to visit her room at night, gently spread her legs, slip a hand under her panties, and touch her clit? Hell, what would it be like to taste her?
My chest suddenly felt tight. The onslaught of guilt nearly bowled me over, but there was a sick negotiator in me who claimed it was okay as long as I didn’t act on it. Except, it wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot.
“When Jace comes back tomorrow, can we have a sleepover on the roof?” Belle asked. “Like we used to? I miss those.”
That was when we’d lived in our old house and she was twelve. The situation was entirely different now.
Don’t pretend you’ll say no.
I nodded once and fished out my keys. “Okay.”
As I unlocked the door to our home, the shame flowed like a strong current in my veins, though it lost force—if only a little—when Belle lit up with joy. I was a sucker for her happiness. She had me completely wrapped around her finger.
I could survive a sleepover. They were fun affairs with tents, s’mores, and music. Nothing sexual about it. Jace would bring his guitar or harmonica, Belle would fill a tent with pillows and mattresses, and I would bring the food. The only music I played was the piano—not the easiest instrument to haul up to the roof.
Sleepover. Okay, I could swing that. No problem.
“She wants a what?” Jace hissed.
I pressed my lips into a grim line and grabbed another tomato to slice.
Jace began pacing on the other side of the kitchen bar, limp included, and every now and then, he stopped short and narrowed his eyes at me. He said nothing, probably because I didn’t want to hear it.
“Sleepover,” he scoffed.
“Lower your voice, please. She’s in her room.” Lifting the cutting board, I slid the vegetables into a glass bowl. “It’s bad enough that I have to hear your wild theories.”
I hoped they were wild. I hoped they were unfounded.
A moment later, a door opened and closed. It was followed by the front door opening and closing too, much like it had been doing all day. Belle was taking the sleepover seriously, and she’d been running upstairs with various items since breakfast. We weren’t going to pitch a tent, she’d informed me. Instead, we were going to use the sunbed we had next to the barbecue area. It was positioned against the wall—close to the door leading to the stairwell—and it had a canopy with several layers of mosquito netting.
Comparing it to a regular bed, it was close to a king-size, so the space didn’t worry me. It was the fact that I’d rather not have Belle getting pneumonia. It got cold here at night, regardless of season, but she assured me it would be “amazing.” She was preparing the sunbed with everything we could need, and that was all she was willing to divulge.
“Are you attracted to her?”
Jace’s question took me aback, and I had to take a breath before I could function again. I cleared my throat and checked on the meat I was marinating. It’d been soaking in oils and spices all day, and I deemed it ready for the next step.
“No bullshit, Andrew.” His voice was low, bordering on gentle and full of curiosity. “You’re on edge every time I bring this up, and—”
“Is that so fucking weird?” I whispered angrily.
He merely sat down on a stool and dropped his elbows on the counter, gaze intent. He’d inherited our mother’s dark blue eyes. I’d inherited our father’s steely grays. In a match between our parents, Mom had won every time. She’d been a force to be reckoned with. Jace had certainly gotten his adventure
r’s soul from her.
I swallowed and released a breath, realizing I was strung tight. It was almost impossible to relax my muscles. Placing my hands carefully on the tabletop, I inhaled through my nose and felt the defeat coursing through me. Perhaps I could’ve lied to my brother, but I didn’t want to. The notion exhausted me.
Then I offered a small dip of my chin—yes, I’m attracted to Belle; yes, I know there’s something wrong with me—and I did my damnedest to distract myself with dinner preparations. Jace and I liked the same meat for our skewers, while Belle preferred chicken. Jace loved mushrooms and hated bell peppers, while Belle shrugged at mushrooms and adored bell peppers—if they were red or yellow. Not the green ones. Everyone liked onions, and they preferred Cajun spices whereas I went with Buffalo sauce.
“It’s okay, big brother.”
It wasn’t.
I could get on board with the erotic art and pornography I’d seen online, the kinks, and the lifestyles. I could accept women seeking comfort in the arms of the lovers they called Daddy, but this… It turned my stomach with how much I desired—No. God-fucking-damn. No, back into the box.
“Remember Vegas?” he asked.
My gaze, more like a glare, met his infuriatingly amused expression, and I was no longer angry. I was downright furious. Where the fuck was he going with this? Of course I remembered. In a poor attempt to “get me back on the horse” a few years ago, Jace had dragged me with him to Las Vegas. I’d endured two lap dances, one blow job from a prostitute—after which I’d felt incredibly uncomfortable—and then… Christ, I could barely think it. What was supposed to be a lap dance in a private room had morphed into much more than that, and I hadn’t been alone with the stripper. I’d called it quits, thank goodness, but I’d come damn close to…to sharing a woman with my own brother.
He’d stayed behind and gotten lucky. I’d returned to our hotel and ordered an STD screening, and I’d made him promise never to mention that weekend again.
Then, when did “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” ever hold an ounce of truth?
