Stepbrother Bastard

by Colleen Masters

  “Whoa, whoa…” I cut in, laying my hands on the table, “No need to be hasty, here. We can at least discuss some other candidates—”

  “Why bother?” Carol says bluntly, “This Cash person is a great fit. We can’t afford to dawdle here, Maddie. Asphalt has us on a tight deadline. You know this business is about creating a ballsy campaign, not a perfect one. Besides, Allie says you know this guy. We already have an in!”

  Allie smiles at me across the table, shooting me a wink behind our bosses’ back. I can’t believe she managed to pull this off. More than that—I can’t believe she’d go through all this trouble just to get me back on speaking terms with Cash. On the one hand, she’s gone above and beyond best friend duty, here. On the other, she’s also seriously crossed the line by taking the reins on this. She doesn’t even know the full story, all the troubling complications, all the ways in which this relationship could ruin Cash and I both.

  But I can’t think about that now. Right now, my bosses are both looking at me expectantly, pleased as punch that I just happen to know the exact hunk they want to hire. I have no legitimate excuse not to follow through, no recourse to back down or pawn the campaign off on someone else. Allie’s plan was flawless. I have no choice but to go with it.

  “I guess you’re right,” I smile through gritted teeth, “Mr. Hawthorne would be an excellent fit for our campaign.”

  “I knew you’d think so,” Allie replies across the table, folding her hands contentedly behind her back, “That’s why I took the liberty of reaching out to see if he’d be available for a meeting this afternoon.”

  The conference room spins madly around me as panic and excitement battle for control of my mind and heart. Good god, this woman works fast.

  “Love the initiative Allie,” Brian says.

  “Is he available, then?” Carol asks.

  “He is,” Allie replies, “He works long days at his bike shop, but he said he could take a few minutes to answer a couple of initial questions. He’s expecting a representative from our agency later this afternoon.”

  “Is he local?” Brian asks.

  “Not quite,” Allie shrugs, “But he’s worth the trip. We could just do a phone interview, but if you guys are already sold, I think a face-to-face meet would be preferable.”

  “Agreed,” Carol says, “That’s what you two excel at—face-to-face interaction. Maddie, you should take this first meeting, since you already know Mr. Hawthorne.”

  “Oh. But,” I stammer, looking back and forth between my bosses, “Allie could totally take this one, too. She’s the one who reached out, after all—”

  “No, no,” Carol cuts me off, “It should be you. Take the afternoon and pay a visit.”

  “But it’s the middle of a workday,” I protest weakly.

  “Which is why I’m asking you to work on this assignment,” Carol replies, out of patience with my pussyfooting. “What’s the problem, Madeleine?”

  “No problem,” I rush to assure her, my heart hammering against my ribs, “I’ll just…go and pay Mr. Hawthorne a visit. See if he’s interested in…working with us.”

  “Super,” Brian smiles, clapping his hands together. “What a stroke of luck that you happened to run into this guy! How did you two meet, anyway?”

  “He’s…Uh…” I splutter, searching for the right words, “A friend of the family.”

  “Excellent, excellent,” Brian goes on, nodding his head, “You know what they say, ‘Keep it in the family!’”

  I wrangle my face into a placid smile, despite the fact that I want nothing more in this moment than for a trap door to open up beneath my chair and swallow me whole.

  “You can head out right away, Maddie,” Carol tells me, “Allie, why don’t you keep researching potential candidates? Brian and I will discuss some more logistics while you two get to work.”

  “Sounds good!” Allie chirps, walking around the table toward me. “Come on,” she says, “We can chat on the way to your car.”

  I pull myself numbly to my feet, feeling as though I’ve stumbled into some alternate reality. My real life and the backwoods fantasy of last week are racing toward each other, set for a collision course. Will I even be able to handle these two separate parts of my life coming together? Or will I be leveled by the wreck their meeting is sure to cause?

  “Allie, what the hell are you doing?” I hiss to my evil genius of a friend, the second we’re out of earshot.

  “At the moment, I’m walking you directly to your car to make sure you don’t bolt,” she replies smoothly, taking me by the elbow.

  “You know what I mean,” I shoot back, hurrying toward the front doors of the office. A little fresh air sounds pretty good right about now.

  “Oh, you mean the whole ‘making sure you don’t blow it with the one guy you’ve actually cared for in years’ thing?” Allie replies.

  “Yes,” I breathe, pushing open the front door and rushing out into the overcast afternoon, “That is exactly what I mean.”

  “Maddie, I admit that what I did back there was…unorthodox,” my best friend allows, laying her hands on my shoulders. “But I couldn’t just let you watch as your chance with this guy slipped away. I had to step in.”

  “You should have asked me,” I reply, exasperated, “Or at least warned me. Now I have to drive halfway across the state and confront the man I’ve been pining away for—”

  “Aha! You admit it!” Allie roars triumphantly, “You have been pining.”

  “I’m not—I didn’t—” I stutter, “Goddammit, Allie. This isn’t funny. This is my whole life you’re interfering with, now. My career, my family—”

  “What does your family have to do with it?” she cuts me off. “I thought your parents were friends? So what if it’s a tiny bit awkward, they’ll get over it. I still don’t understand what the problem is.”

  “Let’s just say there’s….some history,” I reply, averting my eyes.

  “Well, fuck history,” she says adamantly, taking me by the hand and leading me over to my car. “You can’t change anything that’s happened to you or your family, Maddie. You only have control over what happens right here, right now. You only get to make so many choices in your life. Usually, things are out of your hands, and you just have to take what you’re given. But you have a choice with Cash, Maddie. You can choose to go get him, or choose to let him go. Now, I may have gone too far, getting in touch with him, but it’s only because I can see how much you want him in your life. You can be mad at me all you like, but I won’t let you spend the rest of your life being mad at yourself for fucking this up. I can’t. I love you too much.”

  “Allie…” I breathe, resting my hands on the roof of my car in an attempt to steady myself, “How can I be sure that he’ll even want me now?”

  “You can’t,” she says gently, laying a hand on my back, “But you can at least be sure that you tried, this way.”

  “I know you’re right,” I whisper, “I know, but—”

  “No more buts, Missy. You’re on the clock,” she says, pulling my car keys out of my purse and placing them firmly in my hand. “So go bag a stud, would you? We’ve got some denim to hock, and you’ve got a fuck buddy to get reacquainted with.”

  “I’m sure I’ll thank you for this some day…” I say bemusedly, “Or else I’ll never forgive you. It could go either way.”

  “You know what? I’ll take my chances,” she grins, “It’s better than risking having another Paul on our hands. One more boring, lame ass boyfriend from you and I would have had to toss your ass anyway.”

  “Your confidence is ever-so-touching,” I drawl, yanking open the drivers side door and sliding inside. “I’ll let you know how this goes, I guess.”

  “Take your time,” she tells me, turning toward the office, “True love and contract negotiations both happen in their own time.”

  “What a romantic,” I mutter, starting the engine and peeling out of my parking space. Allie waves cheerfully from
the front door, totally unaware of how high the stakes are for this little visit.

  With my hands clamped firmly on the steering wheel, I turn the radio up full blast and set off once more toward Cash Hawthorne’s turf. I guess I was bound to see him again one way or another…Our parents are cohabitating now, for god’s sake. What’s the real harm in speeding up our reunion? The real question is, what will he have to say when I arrive? Will he scoop me up in his arms and shower me with “I missed you’s?” Or tell me to get back in my car and leave him the hell alone? At least I’ll know one way or another before the day is out. That’s one tiny shred of comfort in this otherwise bonkers situation.

  I’ve barely made it onto the highway when the sprawling mid-day sky goes dark with storm clouds. Heat lightning crackles along the horizon, heralding a nasty downpour. Sure enough, the sky cracks open with a shattering peal of thunder. Buckets of rain slosh against my windshield—and I’ve got hours to go before I make it to my destination.

  I wonder what Cash thinks about my impending drop-in? Does he think I’m totally pathetic, having had my best friend reach out to him instead of doing it myself? I can see how this stunt could come off as totally pathetic. I can’t show up without knowing where his head is at. I reach into my purse, hunting for my phone so I can shoot him a preemptive text…but I can’t seem to find it. My stomach sinks as I remember shoving my phone into at my desk drawer before the team meeting. I have no way of getting in touch with him before our surprise reunion.

  “That’s it,” I mutter, pulling onto the shoulder of the highway as the menacing forces of nature tear at my beat-up car. I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, my mind reeling. I can’t drive halfway across the state through a crazy thunderstorm for a man who hasn’t even said he still wants me. A man I shouldn’t even be with in the first place. I’m acting like a crazy person. A crazy, reckless person just looking for heartache. If I had even an ounce of sense, I’d turn around and head home right this second.

  Just as I flip on my turn signal, preparing to make a U-turn, a twanging guitar riff sounds out from the speaker as a familiar, unmistakable voice croons…

  “As sure as night is dark and day is light

  I keep you on my mind both day and night

  And happiness I've known proves that it's right

  Because you're mine, I walk the line…”

  My mouth falls open as Johnny Cash goes on singing about his will to “Walk the Line” for the person he loves. All at once, a wild, ringing laugh rips out of my throat.

  “All right, universe,” I crow, slapping at the steering wheel as amazed, excited tears well up in my eyes, “I get it. I think you may have just jumped the shark, but I get it.”

  Pulling carefully back onto the highway through the torrential downpour, I maintain my course for the small Washington town that Cash calls home. This visit could be a triumph or a disaster, but at least I’ll always be able to say I threw caution to the wind…and all the other elements, too.

  I won’t come begging to your doorstep either, Cash Hawthorne, I think to myself, peering through the rain-splattered windshield, But at least I’m gonna show up, for once.

  Chapter Eleven

  I cut my headlights and force a deep breath into my lungs. Though the storm has let up some in the past few hours, the raging tumult in my heart has only grown wilder. This is the last remaining moment before I’m forced to make my final decision; the last chance I have to turn tail and run away as fast as I can.

  But as bruised and baffled as my heart may be, it won’t let me betray myself like that. Not after all this.

  With trembling fingers, I cut the engine and sink back into the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead at a modest brick building filled to the brim with motorcycles in various states of disrepair. And as I keep my eyes trained on the open door of the shop, a familiar figure strides into view.

  My breath catches in my throat as I lay eyes on Cash. Though it’s hardly been more than a week, my body rallies as though we’ve been apart for a decade. He’s alone in the shop, working methodically on a bike as the rain pours down outside. His collar-skimming curls are even more distinct in the heavy summer air, falling across his forehead as he works. The muscles in his arms flex with each turn of his wrench, and every cell in my body remembers what it’s like to be worked over by him.

  But although I’m catching a glimpse of Cash in his element, the one place on earth where he should be most at peace, I can’t help but notice the tightness of his jaw. The furrow in his brow. Something is troubling him, weighing down his mind even in this moment of solitude. It may be presumptuous—conceited, even—to imagine that he may be thinking of me. Of us. But if he’s as wrecked by what’s happened as I am, at least we can offer each other a spot of comfort, just by being face to face once again.

  Before my rational mind can stop me, I push open the car door and step out into the downpour. I race across the lot, the warm summer rain soaking me in seconds. My heart beats out my marching orders, sending me flying toward Cash as fast as my feet can carry me.

  “Cash!” I cry out, his name swelling inside of me, unable to be contained.

  He looks up from his work, his hazel eyes blazing with recognition. I watch his mouth fall open as he rises, a look of amazement coming across his gorgeous face. I skid to a stop beneath the tin awning of the shop, my soaking wet body framed by the open door. For a long, silent moment, Cash and I stare at each other across the threshold, entranced by the sudden presence of the other.

  “Maddie,” he breathes, testing my name in the rain-scented air.

  “H-hi,” I stammer, a tentative smile playing across my lips, “It’s so good to see—”

  “How—What—” he says, taking a step toward me, “What are you doing here?”

  My stomach flips over as he stares at me, clearly taken very much off guard by my sudden appearance. Now it’s my turn to be confused. “I, uh…My job sent me,” I reply, trying to jog his memory, “About the campaign? The interviews, or—”

  “Wait,” he cuts me off, cocking his head, “Just wait a second. You’re here for work?”

  “Yes,” I tell him, trying to keep from quivering. I don’t think it’s just my wet clothes that have me shaking. It’s the uncertainty about whether Cash is even happy to see me.

  “That was your agency that called this morning?” he goes on, shoving a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you just…Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  Did Allie conveniently fail to mention that I’d be the one arriving on Cash’s doorstep this afternoon? Typical.

  “It’s a really long story,” I breathe, steadying myself against the doorframe.

  “Sounds it,” Cash says, his expression unchanging. “But let me see if I’ve got the short version right. You’re not here because you want to see me. You’re here because you think I’d look good in a denim ad? Is that about the gist of it?”

  “No!” I exclaim, hurt by his assumption. “You honestly think I’m just here for work?”

  “What else?” he asks, crossing his arms, “It’s not as though I’ve had any word from you, so how should I know?”

  “I haven’t heard from you either,” I reply heatedly.

  “Of fucking course not,” he shoots back, “You made it pretty damn clear that what you wanted was time alone. To think. I may not be the brightest man around, but even I know what that means.”

  “Cash, please…” I murmur, bracing myself against the doorframe. “Just listen to me. I know I shouldn’t have left you like that, without any explanation. Without any answers. But I did need to think. Because what I feel for you…it deserves to be thought through. It’s too important to leave up to chance. We have to choose, Cash. If we want each other, then we have to choose each other. We owe ourselves that much.”

  He lets his eyes trail down along the length of my body, his inked chest rising and falling hard. My heart swells dangerously with hope. One harsh word from
Cash, and I know it will shatter to pieces. When he speaks, his voice rakes along the bottom of his register in an impassioned growl.

  “I chose you the first night we met,” he tells me, bringing his searing hazel eyes to mine. “So. What do you say, Porter? Do you choose me, too?”

  “Cash,” I breathe, my knees going weak beneath me, “You…You must know the answer to that.”

  “I don’t know a damn thing,” he replies firmly, “Not anymore. I need an answer. Why are you here?”

  My lips part as my brain reels through possible answers. I’m here because I don’t know how to leave well enough alone. I’m here because I heard a song on the radio and thought I’d take my chances. I’m here because even though I know better, I still have a nasty habit of courting disaster, I guess.

  But I know that no answer my mind can produce will be good enough for him, in the moment. He wants the truth. My truth. And that is something that only my heart can provide.

  “I’m here….” I begin, my eyes stinging with sudden tears, “Because I need to be, Cash. Because I need to be…with you. I choose to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

  He draws a deep breath into his lungs, drinking in my answer. I watch the truth wash over him, filling him with certainty.

  “I was hoping you’d say something like that,” he growls.

  In two long paces, he’s closed the space between us. He strides across the shop’s threshold and enfolds me in his arms. I give my body over to him at once as he brings his mouth to mine. He spins me around, pushing me against the brick wall beside the shop’s doorway. The taste of him as he kisses me harder and deeper than ever is like a revelation to me. I bury my fingers in his curls as he holds my face in his work-roughened hands, pinning me against the wall with his powerful hips. Rain courses down over the edge of the tin awning as thunder rattles overhead. But after a week of torment and heartache, I finally feel like I’ve reached the eye of the storm here in Cash’s arms.

  “I missed you so much,” I gasp, as he pins my hands over my head, kissing along my throat with ardent need.