“Jesus Christ!” someone yelps from the top of the stairs.
I look up from my pose, a little annoyed at the abrupt interruption. But I guess I should have anticipated it, knowing my older sister was bound to arrive at some point today.
“Oh. Hey, Maddie,” I say, swimming up of my blissed-out reverie. “One sec, I’m just finishing up my practice.”
“What are you practicing, exactly?” she asks me tersely, watching as I unfold my body, “How to fit a corpse into a suitcase?”
I sit up to face her, failing to swallow a sigh. Madeleine stands staring down at me with a skeptical look—her resting expression, as it were. Though she’s a few years older than me, she’s as many inches shorter. Often mistaken for the youngest of all us sisters, her body is petite and compact where mine is athletically curvy. I used to get grumpy about her adorably sexy physique, but I’ve grown to love my womanly body as I’ve moved out of my teenage years. What I’ve never grown to love is the patronizing tone my older sister takes with me when she’s trying to keep things chipper.
“It’s yoga, Maddie,” I tell her flatly, “Surely you’ve heard of it.”
The corners of her mouth turn down at my curt response. I can see her fighting the urge to roll her gold-flecked blue eyes—the same eyes that our mother passed down to all three of her daughters. With Herculean restraint, she stops herself from bickering with me right from the get-go. We’ve always had a way of getting on each other’s last nerve from the start.
“Did you know this place was going to be a mansion?” she asks finally, crossing her arms, “There’s no way Mom can be affording this easily.”
Oh, dear. It looks like Maddie wasn’t briefed about the details of this trip either. She has no idea about John, or his sons, or the fact that our mother has been living here for the past couple of months or so. On the bright side, I get to watch her head explode as she learns the true nature of this little getaway. Maddie is an obsessive over-thinker, phased by the smallest wrinkle in her plans. I can’t help but be a tiny bit amused as she unknowingly steps up to a wrinkle the size of a mountain.
Sure enough, my older sister’s mind promptly melts as our mother sweeps in and divulges the salacious details of her stay in Montana. Anna and I trail along as Maddie is introduced to John—the latest of Mom’s unlikely paramours. To her credit, Maddie keeps it together just long enough for us girls to escape into the backyard. When the levees finally break, I’m there to lend her a shoulder to cry on. I forget how hard Dad’s death hit her sometimes. He really was her hero, her role model. Seeing Mom with another man is harder on her than it is on me.
Luckily, something comes along to distract all of us Porter girls from our discomfort. Finally, we get to meet one of John’s sons in the flesh. He roars up out of the woods on an ATV, nearly mowing us over in the process. Anna wasn’t kidding about these boys being hot as hell. This one, who tells us his name is Cash, has the bad boy biker thing down pat. His body is covered in heavy black ink, and his dark curly hair hangs just above his collar. Definitely easy on the eyes, but not really my type. The second he opens his mouth, I can tell there’s more brawn than brains to him.
What can I say? I like my men sharp.
Things cool down a bit as the four of us Porter women set to making dinner. John’s expecting his two younger sons home tonight, so it’ll be the first time that all eight of us will be in the same place at once. My mom is fluttering around the kitchen like a deranged 50’s housewife, bent on everything being perfect for our first big group dinner. Maddie’s lost in her own thoughts as she hacks away at a pile of vegetables, and Anna is quiet as a mouse as she makes sure Mom doesn’t accidentally lose a finger or something in her frenzy.
Me? I make myself comfortable with a glass of Merlot at the rough-hewn kitchen table. Someone’s got to taste-test the wine pairings for tonight, right?
“Maddie,” our mom chirps as she puts the finishing touches on her feast, “Why don’t you go round up the boys? Everything’ll be ready in a sec.”
My older sister promptly drops her knife, the color draining from her face.
“Oh. I don’t. I mean—” she sputters, even more flustered than usual, “I don’t really know where they are…”
“I think they’re down by the lake,” Anna replies, plucking a tray of dinner rolls out of the oven.
I didn’t even realize the younger boys had returned from their camping expedition. We haven’t gotten so much as a grunt out of any of them, much less a “hello”. But after catching a glimpse of the sexy, brooding Cash this afternoon, I’m curious to see what the others look like. Besides, Maddie seems downright terrified to wrangle them on her own.
“What, do you need a chaperone to face the big bad boys?” I tease her, rising to my feet, “Come on. I’ll go with you.”
Resigned, Maddie trails me out the back door onto the patio. The night is warm and breezy, and dusk gathers quickly as the sun plummets toward the horizon.
“I still haven't met the younger guys,” I say over my shoulder to Maddie, “They’ve been making themselves pretty damn scarce. Not that I have high hopes, having met Cash.”
“Yeah,” she chuckles nervously, “He seems like kind of a dick, right?”
“Total dick,” I agree. “Pretty hot though.”
“S-sorry?” Maddie stammers, running a hand through her long dark blonde bob. God, she can be such a puritan sometimes.
“What? He is,” I shrug, “Did you see those tattoos? And that hair? God lord. It’s like if Jon Snow and Thor had a super sexy, tatted-up love child. Not sure how that would work biologically, but—”
“I mean, yeah, he’s pretty attractive…” Maddie allows slowly, “But I mean, he’s kind of off limits, right? All the boys are. What with Mom and John’s history and everything?”
I nearly stop in my tracks at Maddie’s uncharacteristic leap of logic.
“Whoa, whoa. I wasn’t planning on jumping him or anything, Maddie,” I laugh, “Unless you think he’d be into it, that is.”
I watch as Maddie’s face goes perfectly still, her mouth hardening into a tight straight line. I hate to say it, but she’s always been something of a prude, my big sister. I mean for god’s sake, she’s only had about three boyfriends in her entire life. And all of them were long, drawn out, monogamous relationships. I shudder at the very thought.
“Christ, Maddie. I’m kidding,” I say, snapping my sister out of her dead-eyed trance.
“Oh. Right,” she mutters, “I knew that.”
“We need to get you drunk ASAP tonight,” I laughs, “The rat race is turning you into something of a downer, my dear.”
It’s so weird that her mind would leap immediately to whether or not it’s OK for us to hook up with John’s sons. Maybe all that boring relationship sex is screwing with her straight-and-narrow sensibilities? I hadn’t even considered that question myself. But, then again, I have someone waiting for me back at Sheridan. Someone who would surely put these rowdy country boys to shame.
I spot one such country boy standing at the end of the dock, looking out across the water. He’s big and broad-shouldered like his dad, and tatted-up like Cash, but with much lighter ash-brown hair.
“Hey there,” I call to him as Maddie and I approach.
He ignores me completely, keeping his gaze on the water.
“Maybe he didn’t hear you?” Maddie suggests in a whisper.
Maybe he’s just being a dick, I think to myself, marching right up to him.
“Hey,” I repeat, tapping on his muscled shoulder, “What’s up?”
I take a step back, startled, as he raises his hand to me. For a terrifying second, I’m reminded of the other night at the bar—the moment when that skinhead maniac cocked back his arm to pummel Danny into the ground. But no…this guy is simply trying to shut me up. Looks like he’s just as charming as his big brother after all. What’s so damn fascinating about the lake, anyway?
Following the younger so
n’s gaze out across the water, I spot the source of his intense focus. Two built, barreling bodies are racing toward us, cutting the water with strong, sure strokes. I’m guessing that it’s the two other brothers, having a little pre-dinner race. I’ll never understand men and their need to make everything into a contest.
Taking a big step back to avoid getting drenched, I watch as the two men soar toward the dock, sending up a huge jet of water in their wake. Crossing my arms, I brace myself to meet the third of John’s sons. Maybe he’ll be more of a conversationalist than this cavemen brothers? But something tells me not to get my hopes up.
I look on as the swimmers grab hold of the wooden dock and pull themselves effortlessly up out of the water. Just as they climb side-by-side onto the planks and straighten up, the fiery orange sun blazes out from behind a cloud just above the horizon. I squint into the bright sunlight, blinded by the sudden burst. When my eyes start to adjust, I find myself starting at a pair of exceptionally cut torsos, dripping with lake water and absolutely perfect in shape and tone. I recognize Cash’s tattoos at once, averting my attention to the other brother, whose tapered, muscular waist forms a perfect v. His fitted swim trunks hang dangerously low, and a dark trail of hair leads down from his navel, drawing my gaze to the impressive bulge announcing itself beneath his bathing suit. It’s that tantalizing trail that snags my attention for its striking familiarity. And when I widen my focus and take this stranger in as a whole, that uncanniness only becomes more pronounced. Somewhere deep within the recesses of my mind, an alarm starts to wail. But why? As the blood red sun finally dips down below the horizon, my unblinded eyes flick up to the man’s face.
For a split second, I convince myself that I must be hallucinating. I’ve had too much to drink. I’m crazed with cabin fever after one day in the woods. Surely, I can’t actually be seeing what my mind would have me believe. But as the stranger’s eyes lock squarely with mine, blazing like the finest of emeralds, there can be no mistaking him.
Luke Hawthorne stands at the end of the dock, staring at me with utter disbelief. My entire world tilts on its axis as I scramble to understand this turn of events. Luke is here. At the lake house. With John’s sons. He is John’s son. And if Luke is John’s son—John, who my mother has been shacked up with for months doing god knows what—Then he and I… We’re…
I bring my wine glass to my lips, taking a huge swig as time speeds back up to the present. My heart pounds wildly in my ears, obscuring the banter that flies in the air between the three brothers. I watch, paralyzed, as Luke gages my reaction. His expression goes from shocked, to curious, to something approaching happy surprise. Holy shit…is he going to tell all of our siblings that we know each other? He can’t. They can’t know. I can practically feel the panic light up my body like a neon sign, and it’s not lost on Luke either. I watch as he realizes that I’m not going to acknowledge him. Watch as disappointment, then indifference take hold of his features. He tears his eyes away from me, playing it cool as ever. Unless he isn’t playing at all—maybe he couldn’t care less about finding me here. Me, the daughter of the woman who’s been living with his Dad, and… And…
I watch as if from outside my own body as Luke shoots me a casual smile and strides right past me toward the house. Clutching onto my wine glass like a life preserver, I hurry to avert my eyes, totally at a loss. What’s the proper etiquette for the moment you figure out that the guy you want to bone is related to your Mom’s fuck buddy?
Dear god. I’m going to need a refill before I even begin to deal with this one.
Chapter Six
Well, it’s official, I think to myself as I sink even further down into my seat at the kitchen table, I can now say in all truth that I know what hell looks like.
I barely hear a word of the conversation buzzing in the air as the Porter and Hawthorne families tuck into their dinners. Unable to even think about touching my own food, I sip my wine in shell-shocked silence. How can this be happening? How can it be possible that Luke freaking Hawthorne is sitting across from me at “family dinner”, looking calm and collected as ever? Is he not the least bit freaked out to see me here? Does he care at all that our relationship has just gotten ten times weirder, perhaps even impossible, given our parents’ history? How am I the only one who’s freaking out about this whole goddamn side show?
“So nice to have everyone here at last,” my Mom trills, looking around at the seven less-than-enthusiastic faces around the table. “Have all you kids gotten to know each other by now?”
I can feel Luke’s eyes boring into me from across the table. He’s waiting for me to explain how it is we know each other. Waiting to see if I’ve changed my mind. If I could swan dive into my wine glass right now, I would.
“More or less,” Cash replies to my mom.
“Glad you kids are all acquainted,” John says curtly.
“Your dad is a man of few words,” Mom smiles at John, “Are all you boys strong silent types as well?”
“I don’t know if I’d put it that way,” Luke puts in, his voice impossibly even. “We all have more than our fair share of differences.”
“Sounds like my girls, too,” Mom says, “Annabel takes after me, with her photography and all. Maddie’s our little working girl over in Seattle. And Sophia’s studying drama and dance at Sheridan University.”
“Yeah, I know,” Luke replies, his green eyes gleaming with grim determination as they swing back to my face.
I send a huge gulp of wine gushing down the wrong pipe, and double over as a coughing fit overtakes me. So much for playing it cool. What the hell does Luke think he’s doing? He can’t possibly think that sharing our backstory is a good idea, here? Our families’ small talk is drowned out by the frantic thundering of my heart. I glance desperately up at Luke the second I stop choking, looking at him directly for the first time since he sprung up out of that lake like some kind of water god. Maybe I can master ESP in the next two minutes and beg him not to say another word? But there’s no need for ESP with him. He can read people like open books. It helps that the look I’m giving him clearly reads, “NO. PLEASE. DON’T.” in gigantic bold print.
“So, you and Sophie are at the same school?” Maddie says to Luke, dragging my mind back to the present, “I’m sure undergrads and graduate students don’t see much of each other, though.”
“Oh, I think Sophie and I have seen each other around school once or twice,” Luke replies, his strong square jaw pulsing with the tension of words unsaid. Finally, my icy panic has a second to thaw. Maybe he’s not going to blow our spot just yet…
“Sophie, you didn’t tell me you knew Luke!” Mom gasps, turning to me with a rapturous smile.
“Well, I didn’t exactly know we were family friends,” I snap before I can stop myself, “Or that I’d be seeing him—them—here, did I? Besides, I don't know him. We just go to the same school. With thousands of other people. It’s not the same thing.”
A crease appears between Luke’s perfectly sculpted brows as I blush furiously. He’s gone from frustrated to downright pissed. I don’t know why I’m lying about how we know each other, I’m purely in survival mode, here.
“I guess Sheridan is a much bigger school than the one me and John met in,” Mom goes on, totally oblivious to the drama unfolding between me and Luke. “Little Flathead County High was not exactly a hopping place. What did we have, a hundred kids per class?”
“We still had our fun though, didn’t we?” John says, grinning suggestively at Mom.
“We sure did,” Mom smiles back, looking for the world like a blushing schoolgirl. What the hell is this, now?
“So, what, you two dated in high school or something?” Annabel asks, finally putting voice to the subject that all us adult children have been skirting around.
“Or something…” John mutters.
“Actually,” Mom says breathlessly, “John and I were engaged.”
My stomach turns over as I whip around to face my mo
ther—and I’m not the only person at the table looking suddenly nauseated. My sisters, Luke, Cash, and their youngest brother Finn are all staring at our parents with rapt, uneasy focus.
“Well, that’s a conversation we haven’t had,” Maddie says curtly, glaring at our mother.
“You were engaged?” I splutter, “What…When?!”
“All through senior year of high school,” Mom tells us, sighing nostalgically.
“But I couldn’t keep this one pinned down in Podunk, Montana,” John adds, none-too-amiably.
“My scholarship to art school came through, and I couldn’t pass it up,” Mom shrugs, “Besides, we were so young…”
“Isn’t art school where you met Dad?” Anna asks our mother.
“It is,” Mom allows. A shadow crosses over her face as Dad comes up for the first time since we’ve been here.
“So if that scholarship hadn’t come through, you would have stayed here and married John…” Anna goes on, a dreamy look in her eye. I wish to god that she would stop with these hypotheticals before I puke all over the table.
“That was the plan,” John says, sneaking a warm glance at our mother.
“So if you think about it,” Anna goes on, “John is sort of, like, our almost-dad.”
There it is. The exact thing I was trying not to think this whole time. Even if we had no knowledge of our parents’ past, Luke and I have still shared this baffling connection the whole time we’ve known each other—when I was crushing on him during his lectures, when we shared that steamy hookup in the bathroom of the bar, when we stayed up all last night texting each other the dirtiest things we could think of… Our entire relationship is suspect, now. And there’s nothing we can do about it.
“Almost-dad,” Mom laughs, “What a thing to say, Anna! You’ve always been the inventive one.”
Stepbrother Broken (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 2) Page 7
