Brothers Next Door: A MFM Menage Romance

by Samantha Twinn

  Intimately. Although, I keep that fact to myself.

  “That’s right. Nicole and Jon were married the year I started law school. I vaguely remember meeting her one Christmas.” Dean closes his eyes as if trying to picture the events. “Blonde, curly hair, right? She kind of looked like her mom.”

  “Kind of,” I say. Both mother and daughter were blondes with clear cornflower blue eyes, but where her mother Nicole was graceful and statuesque, Brenna was petite and had two left feet. “I think she took after her dad more.”

  “Shit. I forgot you guys were friends in high school,” Dean says with a sigh. “You’re sure it wasn’t her?”

  We’d started out as friends. But not even Dean knew about that summer after graduation. We bonded over our mutual misery. She felt betrayed by her mother, and I felt abandoned by both my parents. After my parent’s divorce, neither one wanted me around. My mother was happily exploring her newfound freedom while blowing through her alimony and dad got remarried. He not only upgraded his wife, but he also had a new son that was everything I wasn’t.

  I fell in love with Brenna during that summer, and we planned on leaving town together to start a new life. But I woke up one morning and discovered she’d left without me.

  That was a long time ago.

  I’ve let go of the anger and betrayal. As a matter of fact, when I see her again, I should probably thank her. It was because of that heartbreak I threw myself into college and work. Dean and I took over the business when dad retired.

  We make a great team and have been able to expand. Dean is a killer negotiator, and I have all the big ideas. We really are the Billionaire Property Brothers. Although, I like to think that we have a golden touch rather than a golden heart.

  “Trust me. It’s not her.”

  “Well, whoever that was, I gave her my card. If she’s looking for money or a donation, I’m sure she’ll call,” Dean says. “Speaking of the Hamiltons, It’s been a couple weeks since the accident, do you think we should go down and see how Landon and Brenna are doing?”

  Hell, no.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” I say. “Landon was just over this weekend. He seems good. If he needs something from us, he’ll ask.”

  The car comes to a stop before Dean can object, and I get out ready to leave this conversation and the past behind me. I’m over her. She is old news. I’ve grown up and moved on. But even so, that doesn’t mean I want to see her again. Brenna hated that apartment. She’s probably going to sell that place before the month is up and I won’t have to see her.

  God, I hope so.

  Chapter Three

  DEAN

  I spend the next week looking for the raven-haired woman with the sad blue eyes, but I don’t see her again. I even go down and check in on Landon, but no one answers. I hate to admit defeat, but odds are, Tyler is right. She is probably dating one of the other tenants and just got into a lover’s spat.

  I should just leave it there, but I can’t get the mystery girl with no name out of my mind. There was a cloud of sadness around her that was more than a fight with a boyfriend.

  Yes, I’ll be the first to admit that I have a soft spot for a woman in need.

  My father left when I was just a baby, and Mom spent my entire childhood barely keeping us off the streets. She worked hard to keep me safe, and when I was old enough, I looked after her.

  And now that she doesn’t need me to look after her, I try to help others when I can. I know that a man with my wealth and power can do a lot of good. Or cause a lot of harm. That was the main reason I was initially against the budding relationship she started with her super-rich boss. Despite what the movies tell us, those kinds of Cinderella stories rarely happen. But Mom is one of the lucky ones.

  Thomas Hart is a demanding, but decent man. And he loves my mom. He indulges her every whim, including her charitable streak. She passed that desire to help others on to me. When I was young, I thought about working for the ACLU or some charity organization, but Thomas convinced me I could do the most good by bringing good paying jobs to our city. So I accepted the position my step-father offered at Hart Properties. Now, Tyler and I are making a big difference by revitalizing the downtown area. It is a win-win for everyone.

  Even so, I still like to pay it forward when I can.

  But I can’t help someone if they don’t want help—as Tyler reminded me last night while drinking my scotch. The smug asshole is getting far too much pleasure out of winning that bet. I can’t sit in the apartment and listen to him gloat any longer, so I grab my gym bag and head downstairs.

  As the elevator doors open onto the gym, I’m surprised to see the woman from the lobby running on a treadmill. The skin peeking out from under her midriff top is slick with sweat, and she’s breathing hard.

  I grab my bag and head into the small room, unsure what to say. Should I acknowledge the other day? Or respect her privacy and not bring it up?

  I don’t have a chance to decide. As soon as I walk into the room, she hits the button to stop the machine.

  “Hey, I was hoping I’d run into you again. I almost called you,” she says, wiping the sweat from her brow. “I want to apologize for the other day. I can’t even imagine what you were thinking. Probably, there’s a crazy person in the lobby of my building kicking the elevator and crying. I’m surprised you didn’t call security.”

  She flashed me a smile, complete with dimples, but there is still a hint of sadness in her eyes.

  “I just thought you were in trouble and needed help,” I say as I set down my bag.

  “I did need help. I left my key, and my brother went up without me.” She frowned and sat down on the bench next to me. “I didn’t have a way to get up to my apartment.”

  “Security would have let you in.”

  “I know,” she says and looks down at her feet. “But I got into a big argument with the security guy about my parking pass. If I would have had to go back and ask him to let me in the elevator, I would have died.”

  Only tenants get parking passes, so Tyler’s theory that she is just Marco’s newest girl had to be wrong. “I didn’t know anyone new had moved in,” I say, checking her hand for a ring. Hart Properties owned the building, and my office processed all sales, but I didn’t keep up on the tenant's personal lives. If someone got married, I wouldn’t know.

  “I guess I’m not technically new,” she says and starts to gather her things. “I used to live here a long time ago. I inherited 11C from my mom.”

  “Brenna Hamilton?” I ask, hesitantly.

  “Parker,” she says and shoves her running shoes into her bag. The empty water bottle sitting on the bench tips over from the force and falls to the floor. “It’s Brenna Parker. Jon was my step-father.”

  “I knew it,” I say under my breath. My asshole brother owes me a thousand dollar bottle of scotch.

  “What?” she says and wrinkles her nose. And then I saw it. The resemblance to Landon is striking.

  “I’m sorry,” I say and reach down to grab the fallen water bottle. “I mean, I’m sorry about the mistake, and I’m also sorry about Jon and Nicole’s accident.”

  “Were you a friend of theirs?” she asks.

  “No. I didn’t know them well. They traveled a lot. But I know Landon. He’s a good kid. How’s he doing?”

  With a shrug, she takes the bottle from me and packs it in her bag. “I don’t know. He hardly talks to me. I don’t know what’s going on with him. I don’t know what he wants from me.”

  “It’s his age,” I assure her. “I doubt he even knows what he wants. Give it some time.”

  I squeeze her hand and linger a little longer than is probably appropriate. But when I try to pull back, Brenna holds on.

  “Thank you, Dean. I know you don’t know me, but I appreciate the advice.”

  I have to fight back the crazy urge to lean down and kiss her. To chase away that cloud of sadness that she can’t hide beneath her smile. I could easily shift
my hand across her exposed middle, pull her into my arms, and taste those plump lips.

  With a sigh, she pulls back and slips the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Speaking of Landon, I should get back upstairs. It was nice meeting you for real this time. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  “I hope so,” I say, lamely, as I watch her step onto the elevator.

  I pick up my bag and consider going back upstairs to tell Tyler and demand my bottle back. Instead, I head to the locker room and change into my swimming trunks. A few hundred laps are exactly what I need to cool down.

  I have to remind myself that Brenna is grieving and isn’t interested in being asked out on a date. Or being ravished in the gym by a virtual stranger.

  I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. The image of her running, muscles flexing, sweat dripping down her body, flashes in my mind and morphs into an image of her stretched across my bed.

  Maybe after my laps, I need to take a cold shower.

  Chapter Four

  BRENNA

  “I feel like I’m drowning here,” I say and flop back onto the bed.

  “It’s not like you to be such a drama queen. That’s my job,” Liv says from my computer. “If you hate it so much, why don’t you sell that place and move back here? With all the money from that insanely expensive apartment, you can buy a sweet place. Then I wouldn’t have to admire you from afar.”

  Liv makes a kissy noise that sounds a bit like a dying porpoise. I sit up and stare at my best friend and business partner. I miss her like crazy, but there’s no way around it; I have to stay.

  “I told you before I left, this is a permanent move.”

  “I don’t get it. Your mom and stepdad up and die and you have to rearrange your entire life?” Liv leans back in her chair, frustrated. “This is exactly what happened when your dad died, only this time, you’re the one ruining your life.”

  “When my mother sold our house and moved me to a different school after my dad’s death, I was devastated, and I never forgave her. That’s exactly why I’m staying. Landon just lost both his parents. I won’t force him out of his home, too.”

  “I know that sweetie.” Liv sighs in acquiescence. We’ve already had this argument a half dozen times. I know she’s got my best interest at heart, but there’s more than just me to think about. “I’m just worried about you. You have a life here. Friends. A business. And now you’re back at that place, filled with nothing but bad memories.”

  “They weren’t all bad,” I say, thinking about Tyler for what must be the millionth time since moving back.

  Did he ever tell his dad off and leave town? Does he hate me for going without him?

  “Yeah, you told me all about the hot guy in 12A. But he’s not there to fix your problems with his magic penis.”

  “Magic what?” I choke, thankful I wasn’t drinking anything. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Magic penis. You know you slept with him, and magically all your problems were solved.”

  “Sleeping with him didn’t solve my problems. If anything, my relationship with him complicated things.”

  “Don’t you see what happened? You were too scared to leave, but after that summer of loving, you gained the courage to fly the nest.” She leaned forward again with a look in her eyes that always worried me. “Oh my god, that’s it. That’s exactly what you need right now. You need to find another magic penis to get your confidence back.”

  “Liv you’re being ridiculous. I called for advice, and the best you’ve got is sleep around.”

  “No, you’re not listening. It’s not about sleeping around. The point is to find someone that can give you your confidence back.”

  Immediately, Dean pops into my mind. He is kind and funny and offered to me help me. And after talking to him, I stopped worrying that I was screwing everything up. Maybe Liv is onto something.

  “And once you find that guy, then screw his brains out.”

  I can’t help but laugh. Liv is ridiculous, but she is also right—in a way. I need someone here who can be my ally. A friend. Maybe that someone is Dean.

  “I’ve got to go and make sure Landon is getting ready for bed,” I say. “Love you, Liv.”

  “Love your stupid face, too. Call me in the morning so we can schedule work for next week?”

  I nod, feeling every inch of the thousand miles that separate us. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  I head to the back of the apartment where Landon sequesters himself most days and knock on the door. Only the muted sound of electronic dance music filters out of his room. I knock again, but still no answer. I check the time on my phone. It’s possible he could have gone to bed, but with the music blaring, it’s not likely. I give it one more try before opening the door.

  “Hello?” I yell over the throbbing bass. The room is pretty much what I expected; a bit of a mess with a strange odor that can only be described as dirty laundry and Doritos. “Landon? It’s time for bed.”

  The room is big. It’s almost as big as my old apartment, but not so big that you’d miss a twelve-year-old boy. He isn’t there. I switch off the music and check the living room, but he’s not watching TV. At this point, I’m starting to worry. There are still a few other rooms in this massive apartment he might be in, so I head back down the hall calling his name.

  “Landon! Landon, you better not be hiding from me. This isn’t funny. Come out.”

  I make quick work of checking the rest of the house, but don’t find him. I pick up my phone and shoot off a series of texts.

  Brenna: Where are you?

  Brenna: Text me back and let me know where you are?

  Brenna: Did you go down to the gym?

  Brenna: I’m not kidding. Text me back now.

  I consider calling Liv to see if she can track his phone. It wouldn’t take her long to break his password. But what if he isn’t using the find my phone feature, it would be hard to track. Maybe I should call the police department and see if they can run a trace on his phone. But do I want to get the police involved? I can just imagine how that’s going to play out. I’ve been Landon’s guardian for less than two weeks, and I’ve already lost him.

  My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down, relieved to see a message from Landon.

  Landon: Chill. I’m just playing Xbox with my friend.

  Brenna: Come home. NOW!

  Landon: After this level.

  I curse at my phone. God, I want to punch that kid sometimes. I take a deep breath and remind myself that I’m the adult here.

  Brenna: What’s the apartment number?

  I pace the living room while I wait for a response. He is taking his sweet time. I should be relieved that he’s okay, but I am more than pissed. And he isn’t doing himself any favors by not texting me back. I am compiling a list of all the punishments I can think of, starting with an ankle monitor. I can probably hunt one of those down on the web.

  The phone buzzes again.

  Landon: 12A

  I blink at the number, memories flooding back. 12A was my sanctuary for most of the four years I lived here. And that’s where Landon is playing with his friend.

  Is it possible that Tyler still lives there? With a wife and child?

  The thought makes me a little queasy. He has every right to move on with his life. But in my mind he’ll always be that eighteen-year-old boy I fell in love with.

  I’m being stupid. He has to be long gone, for sure. There is some inconsiderate family living in 12A now that doesn’t care that their son has a friend over at eleven on a school night.

  I grab my hoodie off the back of the sofa and stalk to the elevator, preparing myself. I don’t care if this is what Landon is used to, from now on, he has a curfew.

  I step off the elevator and stare at the door. I actually still have the key in my jewelry box—well, the key to Tyler’s apartment. I’m sure whoever lives here now has changed the locks long ago. I take a deep breath and knock on the door, pushing away
old memories.

  And wait, but nothing. I knock again and listen for any sounds coming from the other side of the door, but I don’t hear anything. I knock again, harder. I am going to kill Landon if he sent me up to an empty apartment. I pull out my phone and am in the middle of an all-caps text when the door opens.

  “Can I help you?”

  I suck in a breath at the sound of that voice. It’s a little deeper, a little more mature, but unmistakable.

  “Tyler? What are you doing here?” I say, trying to slow down my breathing. After all these years, you wouldn’t think he’d still have that effect on me.

  “Brenna?” he says with a note of disappointment. “I should probably ask you the same question.”

  It’s like he dumped a cold bucket of water over me. I shake it off. I’m not that same girl desperate for his approval anymore. I straighten my shoulders and look him straight in those whiskey-copper eyes. “I’m here to get Landon. It might be okay for your son to stay up this late, but it’s past eleven and Landon has school tomorrow.”

  Tyler just stood there blinking down at me. “That really was you the other day. I was so sure I’d know you anywhere, but here you are,” he says as if trying to convince himself. “Wait a minute. What did you say? My son?”

  “Landon said he was with his friend. I just assumed it was your son. Step-son?” I ask when he wrinkles his nose. That would make more sense. Tyler was just a year older than me, and he certainly didn’t have a toddler when I left.

  “I don’t have a son,” he says still confused.

  “Your daughter?”

  “I don’t have any kids.”

  Admittedly, I’m relieved, but that doesn’t explain why my brother is here. Maybe the little asshole set me up. “Is Landon here? I’m sorry. He told me he was up here.”

  Tyler shook his head and finally stopped staring at me like I’d grown a tail or something. “Yeah, we’re just finishing up a level of War Strike.” He drops his head and gives me those puppy dog eyes that always turned my insides to goo. “Don’t be mad at him. You know how it is, time got away from me. I didn’t realize how late it was.”