Stepbrother Romance 2 - Consumed: A New Adult Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Taylor, Tawny

  If I could have, I would have left the SUV too. Because that belonged to him as well. It terrified me, how thickly he’d knotted our lives together, already.

  “Shayne. Wait!” he shouted.

  I didn’t wait. There was nothing he could say to change my mind.

  With my heart thumping in my ears, I dashed out the door and down the walk. My focus was on my car. If I could get to it and get the hell out of there, I’d be okay. Eventually. I had no idea where I would go, but I’d be okay. At least I wouldn’t be accepting another gift (no doubt, with very thick and tangled strings attached) from a married man.

  He caught me just as I reached my car, thanks to the ridiculously long walk from the door to the driveway. Holding my left arm, he spun me around. “Shayne, let me explain.”

  “You’re married. I’d say that’s pretty self-explanatory,” I responded.

  “Yes, technically I’m married. But—“

  “I don’t want to hear anything else, Kent.” I swung my right arm, my palm making contact with his cheek. A satisfying slap echoed through the charged silence. “You asshole!”

  Looking stunned, he stepped back, releasing the arm he’d been grasping.

  Free, I jumped into my car, fired up the engine, and peeled away, sending gravel flying.

  What an idiot I’d been. Blinded by his charm and mystery and money. I would never make that mistake again.

  Never.

  I steered toward the freeway.

  I hoped Ransom had room for a temporary roommate. Because my options were limited: either I could sleep on her couch or I could live in my car. If worse came to worse, my car wouldn’t be a bad option. Not ideal. But it was summer. At least I wouldn’t freeze to death.

  Starve, yes. That I might do. And stink, too. With this heat, it wouldn’t take long before I would need a shower.

  Ugh. Being homeless sucked. I needed to find a job. Pronto.

  I pushed the car to eighty, weaving through thick rush hour traffic on I-696. The whole drive I just kept replaying my conversations with Kent in my head and cursing myself for not listening to him. He’d told me, more than once, I was making a mistake by throwing myself at him. He had told me I couldn’t trust him. Still I hadn’t listened.

  That was on me.

  One hundred percent.

  I was the idiot who hadn’t wanted to hear the truth.

  Now I was paying the consequences. But hey, didn’t I deserve what I’d gotten? After all, I’d slept with some other woman’s husband. The idea made me sick with guilt. If I ever had the chance, I would apologize to her.

  I turned into Ransom’s driveway at just after seven. My stomach was rumbling, despite how upset I was. Leaving everything but my purse in the car, I ran up to the door and knocked.

  John, her fiancé answered. Slightly stiff, he stepped aside, welcoming me in. “Ransom went out to do some shopping. She’ll be back later,” he said, his gaze noticeably jumping from one thing to another while avoiding me.

  If I was going to stay there, things were going to be awkward. Better to get the whole situation out in the open now. It was the only way I could even imagine staying with them. “Look,” I said, forcing a smile, “there’s no need to be weird around me. I’m happy for you. I mean it. You and Ransom are the most important people in my life—except my mom. Why wouldn’t I want you to be happy?”

  I watched him inhale, exhale. “Do you mean that?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  His jaw visibly relaxed. He motioned me into the house, but his arms remained crossed over his chest. He still wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable yet. I knew him well enough to be able to tell. “When Ransom and I first started getting…close…she told me you’d feel that way. But…I wasn’t so sure I could believe her.”

  “To be honest, I don’t think she believed it either. After all, she didn’t tell me about the baby until April,” I admitted, leaning a hip against the side of the couch. “But she was right about me wanting you to be happy. I’m not such a bitch that I need everyone around me to be miserable just so I can feel better about my life.”

  “Speaking of which, how have you been?” he asked as he motioned me to sit.

  I shrugged and flicked my gaze at the couch, but I didn’t sit. I wouldn’t make myself comfortable yet. Not until I told him why I was there.

  It would have been nice if I could have lied and told him everything was great. I really didn’t want him to feel more uncomfortable than he already did. But I was going to need his help, and Ransom’s. I couldn’t lie. “Actually, things are a little rough right now, which is why I’m here. I…” A big glob of pride blocked my throat. I swallowed hard to clear it. “I need a place to stay for a while, until I get a job.”

  His eyes bulged. “What? I thought you just bought a new place. Ransom told me—“

  “Yeah, that didn’t work out.”

  Now his expression said what-the-fuck, but he just nodded. “Sure, you can stay here. As long as you need. Ransom will be glad to have the help. She’s been trying to get the baby’s room ready, but she’s having a hard time doing things.” A twinkle glittering in his eye, he shook his head. “I’ve tried to help her, but she refuses to let me do anything. She says I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. That was so Ransom. She never was one to hold back an opinion. “It’ll be fun doing the baby’s room with her.”

  I could see the relief on his face. “I don’t know what happened with your house, but the timing couldn’t have been any better.” At the sound of the doorknob rattling, he pointed. “Speaking of timing…”

  In strolled a very flush-faced, very surprised Ransom, plastic shopping bags dangling from her hands. “Shayne! What are you doing here?”

  “I heard you needed some help getting the baby’s room ready.”

  Ransom squinted at John. “You called her?”

  John shook his head. “Nope. She came on her own. And she offered to stay. To help you.”

  “Actually,” I corrected as I grabbed some of the bags from her hands and followed her into the kitchen, “I came to beg you to allow me to crash on your couch for a few days…or weeks…until I can find a job.”

  “What? Wait.” She looked at John then at me…then at John again. “You said you got a house for your birthday.”

  “Yeah. I thought I got a house for my birthday. Turned out there were a lot of strings attached to that gift.”

  “Strings? From your mom?” she asked.

  “No, the house wasn’t from my mom. It was from her husband’s son. Her husband’s married son.”

  “Married?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, shit, girl! Of course you can stay. As long as you want. And you don’t have to sleep on the couch. We made a guestroom. Up in the attic.”

  Relieved, I took a deep breath. I wouldn’t be living in my car. “You did?”

  “Yeah. John kept asking me why I was so gung ho about finishing the attic, and I couldn’t give him a solid answer, other than to say I was nesting.” She ran her hands over her belly, like pregnant women tended to do. “I guess I knew you’d come stay with us. Even if I didn’t expect it.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Come on.” She waved me toward the hall.” I’ll show you your room. I did the drywall myself. Everything. You’ll be impressed.”

  “I already am.”

  She stopped at the foot of the stairs, grinned and gave me the biggest hug I’d ever had. Her belly jabbed me. I even felt a kick from the baby. “I’m just so fucking glad you’re here. It wasn’t the same, with you way the hell over there.”

  “It wasn’t the same for me either. This is home. This town. It always has been. It always will be.”

  “Good. Because I can’t deal with that man by myself. And soon there will be two of them. I just know this little guy,” she said, smoothing a hand over her belly again,” “is going to be just like his father. A real pain i
n the ass.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a good thing I love them both to death.”

  Chapter 4

  “Fuck you! You push this goddamn baby out! You asshole, you put it in me.” Ransom growled, bearing down, her face deep scarlet. “I knew he’d be a pain in my ass!”

  “Breathe, Ransom. Breathe,” I said over her shouting.

  “I am fucking breathing,” she shrieked, her expression scary-violent. “Goddamn it, everyone get out of my face!”

  I stepped back to give my best friend some breathing space. Her face was the shade of an eggplant, swollen, and slick with sweat. She looked like she was going to burst every blood vessel in her body if she pushed any harder. I was terrified for her. My insides were doing summersaults. But at least I was still vertical.

  Her husband’s skin was the shade of a toad. And although he was also vertical, I had a feeling he’d be dropping any second now.

  The nurse took one look at him, grabbed his arm and hauled him to a chair. “The last thing we need right now is Dad passing out on us. Head down.” She pushed on his shoulders, forcing his head between his knees. She glanced at me. “Do I need to do this to you, too?”

  “No, I’m fine,” I lied. Little stars twinkled, obscuring my sight, but there was no way I could leave Ransom to fight this battle alone, not after everything she’d done for me. I slid my hand into hers, and her fingers clenched like a vise, cracking my bones and making me wince. “Okay, Ransom. It’s right there. I can see the head. Push!”

  “I am pushing, dammit!” she shout-growled as she bore down. “This kid’s head has got to be the size of a watermelon!”

  “I see it. Just a little more!” I coached, trying to ignore the excruciating pain in my hand. There was plenty of time later, after the baby came, to get x-rays.

  I felt myself trying to push for her. It was agonizing, watching her in such pain. She was exhausted, frustrated, and yet driven to push that baby out. I could only imagine how much it hurt. Based on what I was witnessing, I never wanted to have a child. To hell with that!

  The nurse yelled, “Push, push, push. Don’t stop.”

  Ransom growled and fumed and sputtered.

  The doctor calmly waited, seated at the end of the bed.

  Suddenly, Ransom screeched and out popped a wet head covered in dark hair. The pale little face was all scrunched up, lips pursed.

  John jumped to his feet and shouted, “Baby! You did it!” then he dropped to the floor.

  And while Ransom reached down and pulled her newborn baby to her chest, a nurse ran to the unconscious man sprawled on the floor.

  I looked at John. I looked at Ransom. I looked at their child…and I cried. It was all too much to take in. The image of my best friend cradling her newborn daughter in her arms. The knowledge that her life, John’s life, all of our lives, were forever changed. The recognition that John and Ransom were not only married but connected by the child they shared. Surely that would strengthen their marriage. As if to prove my theory true, John dragged his barely-conscious self over to her bedside and hugged them both, tears streaming from his eyes.

  “It’s a girl. A baby girl.” Ransom cried.

  I cried.

  John cried.

  The baby, who was supposed to be John Jr., wasn’t crying. Dark eyes wide open, she took in the new sights around her, content and safe in her mother’s loving arms.

  Birth was beautiful.

  Maybe I would have a child someday.

  Maybe. If I ever let myself fall in love again, which was something I hadn’t even wanted to think about since I’d left Kent’s house.

  My cellphone rang and I checked it. Mom. One glance at the happy family and I knew they wouldn’t miss me if I stepped outside to talk to her. Shaking out the stiffness from my aching hand, I walked to the family waiting room and took the call.

  “Hi honey, it’s Mom.”

  Like I didn’t know that already. Her name displayed on my phone screen. “Hi Mom. What’s up?”

  “You know Dirk and I have been planning a big party for the Fourth of July next week. It’s kind of our farewell party before we head to Alaska. I want to make sure you’ll come.”

  My still-summersaulting insides did a triple flip. There could be no doubt. That man would be at the party. And maybe his wife, too. That was why Mom was calling.

  Did I want to see him? No.

  Did I want to see his wife? Ohmygod, no.

  But could I miss it? Not a chance. It would break Mom’s heart.

  “Yes, of course I’ll come,” I told her. The muscle in my temple squeezed. I pressed a finger against it, trying to stop the spasm.

  “Thank you, dear. It’ll be so nice to spend some time with you. I miss you.”

  “You know I’m always here for you, Mom. No matter how far away I’m living.”

  “Yes, I know. And I love you for that. Well, I’d better get going. We’re finalizing the guest list and menu. I’ll see you next weekend.”

  “I’ll see you then. Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you too, Shayne. Bye.”

  Well that was a quick call.

  The week after I left Plymouth, Mom’s calls weren’t so brief. Or so infrequent. In fact, she called me every single day and tried for at least an hour to convince me it was perfectly okay to accept a house from a “member of the family”, despite his marital status. After all, the gift was an act of generosity, one family member helping another, not meant as any kind of payment or attempt at manipulation.

  I wanted to believe her. I really did. Because owning my own home, that home, was a dream-come-true.

  But Mom didn’t know the whole story. She didn’t know that I’d surrendered my virginity to the man who was offering the gift. And I wasn’t about to tell her, not knowing it might ruin her marriage with Dirk or snuff out the happiness she’d finally found for herself.

  And so I continued to stay with Ransom and John the past few weeks, closed up in the sweltering hot attic room between shifts at Romeo’s Pizza Palace, the gnarly little hole-in-the-wall pizzeria down the street. Making a whopping eight bucks an hour, I wasn’t moving out anytime soon. I just hoped our living arrangement could hold up.

  That wasn’t exactly a given.

  Despite my attempts to stay out of the way, lately, the physical and emotional strain of her pregnancy had gotten to Ransom. She wasn’t the most patient person anyway. With the added aches, pains, and discomforts of late pregnancy, she’d become a little bipolar. I was suffering from her angry out-lashes and hysterical bawling sessions. And I could tell they were taking their toll on her relationship with John as well. He didn’t say anything to me. Or to Ransom. He didn’t need to. His forlorn expression and frequent late nights at work said it all.

  But that was over, thank God. John Junior had been born. And Pregnant Ransom was a mere (unpleasant) memory.

  But what was next? I wasn’t sure any of us were prepared for it, least of all Ransom.

  We would find out soon. Tomorrow.

  Our cozy little threesome had become a foursome.

  John dragged in at almost one A.M., eyes so sunken, and bruises under them so deep, I would have sworn he’d been in a fistfight.

  He loped into the kitchen, where I happened to be standing at the time, pouring myself a (second) big glass of post-baby-birthing-wine. The first glass hadn’t totally obliterated the trauma, so of course I’d opted for another.

  But instead of guzzling it down, I handed it to the exhausted new father.

  His eyes told me exactly how grateful he was for it. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he pounded the wine like a frat boy. When the last drop was gone, he licked his lips and eyed the bottle.

  “Be my guest. You deserve some celebrating tonight.” I tried, with as steady a hand as possible, to refill his glass. Then, aware John was watching me, waiting for me to join him, I grabbed a clean glass from the cabinet, filled it and lifted
it to make a toast. “To you, Ransom, and John Junior’s health and happiness.”

  He said nothing, just clinked his glass against mine and emptied it as quickly as he had the first.

  After two more, I asked him, “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Not a thing. What could be wrong? My wife just had a baby. Named her Johnette. I didn’t want to be one of those parents, the ones that give their kid a ridiculous name. But whatever. Both Ransom and Johnette are healthy. We’re happy. Everything is perfect.”

  “Okay.” He was lying about the perfect thing, of course. I knew it. Why else would he be trying to drown himself in cheap wine? But I was a little buzzed and knew now was not the time to prod. So I handed the bottle to him and pointed at the ceiling, which was swaying slightly. “Johnette is a pretty name. Good choice. I’ve had enough wine. Going to bed. G’night.”

  “Yeah. Night.”

  I bounced into a wall once or twice on the way up to my room and flopped onto my bed. Oh, hell, it was hot. My stomach rolled like a ship being tossed by a tsunami.

  Tonight I would have to sleep nude. Either that or die from heat stroke.

  I stripped down to my birthday suit, turned on the box fan stuffed in the window, and closed my eyes. The bed spun then bounced, seeming to tip to one side. I lifted one eyelid.

  Okay, the mattress’ dip wasn’t the result of bed spins. Someone had joined me.

  I grabbed the sheet and ripped it up to cover myself. “What the fuck?” I shrieked.

  My visitor, John, blinked pleading eyes at me. “I’ve fucked up.”

  “Yes, you have. What are you doing?”

  “I mean, I’ve fucked up with Ransom,” he said, words slurred more than a little. “I don’t love her. I never loved her. I love you.” He reached for me, but I slapped his hand away.

  “Oh no. Nonononono.” I skittered backward, crab-walking away from the drunken man on my bed. “You can’t do this to her. I thought you were in love!”

  He crawled on all fours toward me, cornering me at the head of the bed when I ran into the headboard. “When Ransom told me about the baby, I felt I needed to do the right thing. But I’ve been so fucking miserable since I moved in. You have no idea. I hate my life.”