Mine: A Stepbrother Romance: (With bonus novel Bossy!)

by Kim Linwood

  I blink in amazement. “Did you just manage to call us fat and insinuate you’re going to be a giant lump of dead weight?”

  Amanda turns her head and hides a snicker.

  He licks those annoyingly sexy lips and grins. “I assure you. I’m very much alive.”

  Up close, it’s hard to ignore that under his loose jumpsuit is a body that does in fact look very much alive. He’s mostly covered, but there’s a hint of a tattoo peeking out from under his collar when he moves, and up close his shoulders are a lot broader than I’d first thought. If he could lose the attitude—and at least tame the facial hair—he might be worth a second glance.

  On the plane, he’d sounded like he gargled gravel, but the only roughness I hear in his voice now is of pure masculine interest. There’s something off about him, but I don’t have time to care about annoying pilots who may or may not secretly be sex machines.

  He deftly leaps into the kayak’s front cockpit like he’s done it a thousand times, while I climb in behind Amanda.

  Definitely off. He could barely get down the steps from the plane without stumbling. I eye him suspiciously, which earns me a smile. Amanda rolls her eyes at us.

  “So if you’re in here with us, who’s going to fly the plane back?” Hah! Answer that Mr. Reality TV mole.

  He shrugs, unconcerned. “They’ll fly me out with the chopper later when the other girls leave.”

  Damn it. That makes sense.

  Turning around, he swings the camera to face us, and I lose my chance to keep pestering him with questions. He gives us a thumbs up.

  Liz

  Paddling leaves me lots of time to think, but not much time to talk. Amanda picks it up quickly, and before long we’re pulling way ahead of the rest of the group. At this rate, not only will we not be going home, we might actually win.

  “Good work!” I call out to her.

  She turns and beams me a smile.

  Confident in our lead, we can take it easy. We’re making good time, but it’s still going to take a while to get across.

  “So, Amanda. You’re from... Georgia, right?”

  She nods. “Born and raised.”

  “Atlanta?”

  “Sugar,” she says in an exaggerated drawl. “Our town’s so small the middle of nowhere thinks we’re too far out.” She scrunches up her nose and smiles. “But I do go to school in Atlanta.”

  “This your first time in the Caribbean?”

  “Hell, it’s my first time outside the state. I know it’s crazy, but one night I was just sitting there looking at the application webpage and I thought ‘Why not?’ I’ve got one year left at school, and then I’m back home, working with my Dad. I want at least one thing to look back on and know my whole life wasn’t a straight line from cradle to grave.” She laughs. It’s infectious, a good-natured sound that’s hard not to join in with. “I just about died when I got the call. His offer was way too good to turn down.”

  I don’t remember the casting guy having a particularly good offer, but maybe if I was her I’d have thought so. Or maybe we didn’t all get the same call. Maybe the ones they think will go farther got a little something to sweeten the deal. Doubts nag at me. I haven’t seen Hunter in ten years. How should I know what he likes in a woman?

  Other than not me. Not really.

  “What do you think Hunter’s like?” I ask, trying to pump her subtly for information. “I bet he’s a real jerk. Money tends to go to people’s heads.”

  The pilot coughs.

  Amanda shakes her head. “I don’t know, but nobody that does as much charity as he does can be all bad. Right?”

  Charity? Charity starts in the home, and did my mother and I get any? Not a chance.

  I shrug. “I guess. It could just be for show. Or taxes.”

  “M... Maybe?” Her voice sounds unsure. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything but how wonderful it is on the island and how perfect his life is. I’m sure it’s not exactly like they said, but why would you be here if you think he’s a jerk?”

  Behind the camera, the pilot sits very still, capturing our every word.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s fine,” I say with a forced laugh. “I’m just nervous I guess. He looked so handsome and everything looked so fancy. I feel out of my league.”

  “That I can understand. Back home I know exactly what to do, but here? I’m just winging it. Ya know? I keep waiting for my Gran to pop out from behind something and whack me on the knuckles for not being a lady.”

  “No grans in sight. I think all we have to worry about is Hunter, and I doubt the master of the house is going to jump out and spank you.”

  Amanda giggles. “That sounds more fun than scary.”

  The pilot nearly drops his camera, grabbing for a water bottle and sucking down a few furious swallows. Perv.

  “Maybe that’ll be one of the challenges. They’ll line us all up and he can paddle us, then have to guess whose butt is whose.”

  “Oh, I’ll totally win that one. I have a birthmark I can flash him while we show off our bikinis.”

  I gasp in mock outrage. “You kinky little cheater!”

  The pilot makes a strangled sound. With any luck his shaky hands will mean this part doesn’t make the final cut.

  “Say, Sarah?”

  It takes me a moment before I remember she means me. It’s not easy to get used to a new name. “Yeah?”

  “How wet is it supposed to be getting inside this canoe?”

  “Kayak. And wet? Like how wet?”

  “Well, the water’s sloshing almost up to my waist now, and it’s getting to be a little cold.”

  Shit. Getting wet isn’t exactly surprising, but we’re definitely riding lower than I like.

  I look ahead towards the island, but if we’ve taken on this much water already, we might not make it. I don’t want her to panic, though. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  The pilot puts the camera down and his eyes meet mine over her shoulder. From where he’s sitting, he can see her situation more clearly, and from the slight shake of his head, it’s obvious we’re in trouble.

  Our kayak is sinking.

  Hunter

  Fuck.

  If Liz wasn’t so damn distracting, I would’ve noticed the water level way before now.

  Or the fact that the other kayaks are much farther behind than they should be. Taking such an early lead made us all stop paying attention, which was stupid. They’ve barely gotten away from Dirt Rock, and no amount of waving our arms is going to get their attention.

  Where the hell did my investment money go if the production company can’t even rent boats that float? I rip open the storage compartment in the bow, hoping for a flare gun or something that might help.

  Nothing.

  Well, a moldy half-eaten pack of crackers, a couple empty beer bottles and what looks like a used condom. Classy.

  For fuck’s sake.

  The lines on Liz’s face as she looks at me over Amanda’s shoulder show that she sees the seriousness of our situation. “Don’t stop paddling,” she directs. “Maybe we can make it.”

  There’s no way that’s happening at this rate. I open my mouth, but Liz glares at me. Amanda looks like she’s barely holding it together. Good point. Probably not a good idea to scare her any more than necessary.

  The weather’s warm, though the wind has picked up a bit, and we all have life vests. There’s a dark cloud bank racing towards us, just to add insult to injury, but we’ll be alright. Nobody’s going to die. It’s just going to suck.

  “It’s getting a lot heavier to paddle. Are you sure?” Amanda’s voice trembles.

  I smile at her, hoping it’s reassuring. “Here, take the camera and give me your paddle. I’ll take over for a while.”

  “But the competition—”

  “I’m sure they’ll understand.” Fuck the stupid show. Whatever happens, I’ll make sure Liz and Amanda aren’t blamed for this.

  We switch, he
r eyes huge and her lower lip quivering.

  Liz gives me a confident nod. She might not know who I am, but I guess it’s obvious I’ve done this before. Even if she hasn’t been on the water since we were kids, I know she understands what needs to be done. Good thing it wasn’t one of the clueless teams that ended up with this shitty kayak.

  I’m kicking myself for leaving my satellite phone in the plane. If I had it, I could contact Blaze, or someone back at the estate. There’s a perfectly good helicopter on the pad at home. Sitting there completely useless, because I have nothing to call for it with.

  “You two don’t happen to have your phones with you?” I have to ask even though I know they were supposed to give them up.

  They shake their heads. Not that it matters since there’s no cell tower nearby, but I’d take any shot right now. We’re so dependent on those damned hunks of plastic. I feel fucking helpless and that’s not a feeling I enjoy, or intend to wallow in.

  Liz and I put our backs into it, getting as close as we can before we have to swim for it. Amanda is careful to hold the camera up out of the water, but at this point I couldn’t care less if anything goes down with the kayak.

  You know, aside from us.

  The wind picks up, driving the water up into choppy little peaks, topped with white foam. Nothing dangerous, but Amanda’s looking a little green. I’m not sure there’s any point to staying in the kayak. We might have to abandon it before we risk getting stuck in something as it goes down.

  A raindrop smacks into my forehead.

  Great.

  I rest my paddle across the bow. “Everyone can swim, right?”

  “What?” Amanda asks, clearly terrified. “Yeah, but like, in pools. I can’t—”

  “That’s fine,” Liz interrupts before I can freak Amanda out even more. “We can see the shore from here. The water is warm, and they know where we are. You don’t need to be an Olympic swimmer or anything. He was just asking to make sure we wouldn’t panic or anything. Right?”

  “Right. Exactly. Now... Sarah and I are going to help you get out, and then we’ll carefully join you in the water. I’ll put the camera somewhere safe, and we can hang onto the kayak for support.” Fortunately, it takes a lot to completely sink a kayak, but without a way to bail ourselves out, it’s not going to be able to hold us up much longer.

  I toss the camera into the compartment with the trash, hoping Blaze is the one to get a handful of nasty while he retrieves it.

  The wind picks up, and what started with occasional raindrops turns to light rain. By the time we’re all treading water, the swells have grown, leaving us bobbing up and down in the warm ocean. The clouds roil above us, quick to form, and probably quick to dissipate, but not before they turn a bad situation worse.

  We make our way in silence, slowly swimming towards home. I’m on one side of the kayak, and the two girls on the other. Liz works hard, her hair slicked back and single minded focus written all over her familiar features. Amanda, well, she does her best.

  God, I missed Liz when she left. Not that I had a lot of time to dwell on it before my father shipped me off to boarding school, but without her, the island wasn’t the same anyway.

  I want to rip off this stupid disguise and ask her why she’s here. How hasn’t she recognized me yet? When I pulled off my glasses, she looked right past me and just slipped into the water.

  A wave broadsides us, washing over the kayak and soaking us all. Amanda whimpers. Liz wipes her face and kicks hard, determined to keep going.

  I rap the top of the kayak near where she’s holding on. “Slow down. There’s no point in wearing ourselves out. We’ll get there.”

  Liz looks up, irritation quickly replaced by shock. “Holy shit,” she whispers.

  It takes me a second to realize what the problem is.

  My wig bobs off to the side like a fuzzy jellyfish, and the way the water pulls on my fake beard, it’s not going to last much longer.

  Amanda looks up. “Oh my God!”

  A million emotions fly across Liz’s face. Ten years’ worth of words threaten to spill across her lips, none of which she says. The waterlogged silence stretches between us.

  She knows.

  I know.

  But she doesn’t know I know.

  For once I’m glad Amanda is with us, because she fills the chasm of confusion and awkwardness with an ear shattering squeal.

  “I KNEW IT! Oh my God. I totally knew it. When you kept, like, being there—on camera and stuff—I said to myself ‘he’s not a pilot’. Except, you totally are a pilot, but not just a pilot. Know what I mean?” She’s grinning for the first time since the water started filling our kayak, and she reaches out and shakes Liz’s arm in excitement.

  Liz laughs woodenly, and shakes her head. “Wow. Yeah. I... You got me.” She’s stunned, and I’m fucking glad, because now I know she’s getting a taste of what I felt earlier.

  “I was almost worried there for a while, but we’ll be fine. There’s no way they’ll let us drown. Not when we’re here with you. Tell me the truth, is this all part of the show?” Amanda looks at me like I’m about to snap my fingers and command a helicopter to come down from the sky.

  I don’t have the heart to tell her no. “Well, I’m not allowed to give anything away, but you know how these shows are.”

  “I knew it!”

  Liz rolls her eyes. One of which is back to its usual brown. Her contact must’ve gotten washed out. Her original coloring isn’t as brilliant as the other, but more real. More her.

  What’s there to say? “Surprise.”

  Hunter

  I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking right now. We’re heading for shore, but now Amanda uses more energy flirting with me than she does kicking, and even Liz is slowing down.

  I pull off the last of the shit glued to my face. It’s a huge relief to be myself again, though I was enjoying their little conversation about me when they didn’t know who I was.

  “How are you guys doing? Do you need to take a breather?”

  “Yes,” Amanda says with a sigh of relief, while Liz shakes her head no.

  “We’ll just take a minute, alright? But we can’t stop too long or we’ll cool down. It’s better if we keep moving.”

  “I am pretty cold now that you mention it.” Amanda bats her eyelashes. It’d be cuter if she didn’t look like a soggy, blonde raccoon. “Maybe we should snuggle up to share heat.”

  “Yeah, because what he needs is to drag you and the kayak,” Liz snaps.

  Jealousy? Nah. Probably just exhausted.

  “We could take turns?” Amanda suggests.

  Liz looks like she’s about to blow. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Girls...” I start, but get silenced by two angry stares.

  The weather picks that moment to turn on us again, pelting our heads with almost painfully large raindrops. It’s hard to believe it’s possible to feel even more wet, but as the rain slides down my face, over my eyes and into my nose and mouth, I do. This might be one of the circles of hell Dante was on about.

  If it isn’t, it should be. Fucking tropical weather.

  Fucking TV show.

  “Let’s go. There isn’t much left.” Which is a lie, but like a parent saying ‘We’re almost there’ to the kids in the backseat, I have no clue how long it’s going to take, and they don’t want to hear that.

  That’s when a rumbling sound slowly separates itself from the thrum and crash of the ocean around us. It grows clearer, more distinct, until it’s a rapid beat, obviously motorized. Rotors. No music made by man has ever sounded so sweet. I shout and dive under for a second, coming back up and shaking off the water with a shit-eating grin. “Thank fucking God.”

  Liz and Amanda look at each other, and then back at me curiously.

  “Don’t you hear it?”

  “Hear what?” Liz cocks her head to hear better.

  “The helicopter!”

  She stays still for
a second, and then relief spreads slowly over her face.

  We smile at each other, and I forget about the way my clothes chafe against my skin, and the rain is dripping into my ears.

  Her hair is all wrong, and her eyes are mismatched, but that connection we used to have snaps right back into place. Her tongue steals out, licking across her blue-tinged lips, and the urge to kiss her nearly has me moving to close the distance.

  “Yay! Finally.” Amanda claps happily, bobbing uncontrolled for a bit in the water.

  Giving her head a shake, Liz’s expression hardens. She hauls Amanda back to the side of the kayak. “I know you’re my competition, but I’d rather not lose you at sea.”

  Amanda grins. “Aw. Love you too, honey.”

  What started as a low thrum, grows louder and louder until it’s right over us. A black helicopter bursts out of the fog and clouds, flying low. We wave our arms, shouting even though they’ll never hear over their own noise.

  They pass straight over, hardly slowing before disappearing back into the clouds.

  “No fucking way!” I shout. “Get your shiny metal ass back here!”

  “Relax, there’s no way they didn’t see us. I’m sure they’ll be back.”

  I know Liz is right, but I hate feeling helpless. It’s something I felt way too often growing up, and I’ve done everything in my power to change.

  “Let’s go! Keep swimming!” I snarl.

  Amanda sniffs. I refuse to look to see if she’s crying.

  “Hunter.” Liz calls.

  I ignore her.

  “Hunter!”

  “What?” I slap my arm into the water and turn on her.

  She reaches over and puts a hand on the arm I’m holding the kayak with. “They’ll be back.”

  The heat from her hand seeps into me. There’s no way she’s not just as chilled as I am, but where we touch, it’s burning hot.

  As if in response, the sound of rotors grows louder again, and this time the helicopter comes in slow. The air pressure flattens the seas around us, creating a frothy ring at the edge. When I find out who that pilot is, I’m giving them the bonus to end all goddamn bonuses.