by Piper Frost
Maybe that's why it's been so hard for me to find and keep a girlfriend. Dating in high school was just to get some experience. I didn't take too much seriously other than schoolwork and farm work. After high school, though, I figured I'd step up my social life…but I didn't. If anything, I've stepped back a bit. I like it here, on the ranch, and unless I’m moving away, I’m not meeting any new women in town. There aren’t any. Other than the weekly bonfires and hangouts at the creek with the same friends from school, I don't do too much of anything, but I'm okay with that. The ranch is where I like to be. Back country roads, no one around to barge into my business. It’s nice here. Perfect.
The ranch is just what it sounds like. A massive property with enough animals to fill the pens. The cattle are our biggest stock, but we've started supplying the local farmer’s stores with chicks. Apparently, it's a new fad over in the big city that’s about fifty miles from here to have chickens in your back yard. Demand is high. Don't bother me, but I doubt half those people that buy them actually keep them for longer than it takes to realize how much work it is.
City folk confuse me sometimes.
We used to live on a smaller farm across town, but when my dad married Donna we moved here. Not that I'm complaining. Hell, I'm nineteen and have my own guesthouse all to myself. Well...used to be all to myself. Now I share it with a girl...woman…I'm not really sure I'll ever understand.
The sun's blaring hot by the time I make my rounds to feed the steer and I see my dad taking the tractor he was working on out for a spin, making sure it’s running right. He heads toward me and hops off to help.
"You got plans tonight?" he asks, tossing a bale out for them.
"Bonfire out at the creek. Typical Friday night." I huff and toss another a few yards.
"Should prolly take Jo." He doesn’t stop throwing the bales, but I pause to glare at him.
"You think? She doesn't seem like she's the bonfire type, dad." I wipe my hands and lift my hat, wiping the sweat from my brow.
He stops and shrugs. "She's technically your sister and knows no-one. I think you know the right thing to do." He raises his eyebrows at me and I nod. He's right. I do know the right thing to do, but forcing someone to do something they don't wanna isn't in my wheelhouse.
"I'll try."
"Thanks, son. We'll be over this awkward stage soon enough." He pats my back and I laugh.
"Something like that, sure."
"Breakfast in ten," he yells as he hops back on the waiting tractor. "And later I wanna show you a little about sales. We got a few new markets to sell to so it's time to decide which is best for us." He drives away before I can reply but that's typical of him. Always needing the last word. It don't bother me near as much as it did a few years ago. I learned quick that fighting anything against my dad is a moot point.
"Mornin', Donna," I say as I close my truck door back at the house. I’ve worked up a hunger so I’m hoping breakfast is more than some vegan type of bacon she tried last week.
"You're a mess this mornin', Brandt!" She lets out this laugh that I still, after all these years of living with her, can't tell if it's real or not.
"Work. Someone's gotta do it, ma'am." I grin and slide my shoes off on the back porch before patting the dirt off my coveralls.
"Oh, Brandt, I wish you'd stop ma'am-ing me," she scoffs, waving her arm. "Come on. Food's almost ready."
I follow her inside, thankful that even though I technically don't live here anymore and I'm expected to pay my way for everything but rent, I still get to reap the benefits of the help. I can make a mean scrambled egg, but that's about the extent of my breakfast abilities.
"Jo comin' for breakfast?" my dad asks, taking his seat. I follow suit in my chair and wait for Donna to sit before digging in. The spread she put out this morning is to die for.
"I tried rising her but I couldn't get in." Donna’s drawl is thicker, letting on the sadness in her tone. "I wish she'd join us."
I take a bite of the hash browns that are cooked to damn perfection and watch the conversation between Donna and my father unfold. I know they love each other, but sometimes all I see between them is exasperation. Like right now, my dad doesn't think Donna should push Jo. Donna thinks she needs a little nudge. Every now and then in their conversation they ask my opinion but I'd like to keep that to myself. No one needs to know that I feel that Donna's partially to blame for how her daughter turned out.
"Maybe Brandt can get her ass up. I think I scared her last time." My dad laughs and I shove more of the perfectly cooked bacon into my mouth, ignoring him. I don't hate the girl, but I don't want to be in the middle of their bickering when she wakes up days earlier than she wants to.
"Could you, Brandt?" Donna asks and I flick my eyes to my dad. He raises an eyebrow and nods at me.
"He'd love to,” my dad answers.
If I weren’t raised with such manners, I'd tell him exactly how I feel. Too bad I was raised in a God-fearing household that puts respect right at the top of the list of things you have to learn to survive. So, instead of voicing my opinion, I stand and march to the guesthouse. Flinging open the door too hard, I cringe when it hits the wall. Then I pray maybe that noise alone woke her up and I don't have to finish.
"Jo?" I call out, walking toward her double doors. "Jo, breakfast!" I press my ear to the door and wait but hear nothing. "Jo?" I say louder this time and knock. When something hits the door, hard, I back off and huff. "Dammit. Jo! Your mom and Garrison want you out for breakfast!" I bellow, grinning when she growls from behind the closed doors.
I don’t move, expecting her to give in and come to breakfast, but nothing happens. Resigning, I try the handle and find it locked.
"Food's gone cold, Jo. You'll have to make yourself something when you get up." On the way out, I close the door lighter than when I opened it then make my way back to the house. "She ain’t comin'," I mumble, throwing myself back in my seat. Why it bothers me that she didn't open the door, let alone give me the time of day and answer me with real words, I don't know. But it does.
"Excuse me?" my dad blurts, his eyes wide.
"Sorry. I meant I couldn't rise her," I correct myself then add, "Sir."
He nods and Donna sighs louder than needed, nice and dramatically.
"We'll get there, Donna. Give the girl a small tidbit of space." My dad rests his hand on hers.
This whole situation blows.
"She had years of space and look where that got her," she blurts and storms away from the table.
"That went well," I say and my father glares at me.
He doesn't say anything else and I'll be happy when we can get back to work, or at least away from this awkward breakfast. I knew when they said they were moving her in it wouldn't be as smooth as Donna made it out to seem. I love that woman like a boy should love his step mom, but sometimes I think she's a little out of her head, in ways.
I grab my chaps and head to Lucky, my horse I've groomed from birth. I need to check on the chicks a little later and start prepping the delivery for tomorrow, but right now I need to stretch his legs. It's been a couple days since I took him out for a free ride. Yesterday we just grazed the pasture while checking on the herd. Today, I need some freedom.
After saddling up, we make our way back to the small gravel road that winds its way through the fields behind our house. About ten minutes into the walk we turn down a dirt path we've worn down over the years that leads between the trees and fields, then drops us right off at the river's edge.
Perfection.
I spend the next hour sitting by the side of the creek watching the river flow. This here's my thinking spot. I need this today. Everything in my world's been going great until a few weeks ago. When Donna and my dad announced Jo's pending arrival. From then, everything around here started getting tense. Donna's been uptight about everything being perfect. My dad's been fussin’ about shit he typically doesn't, and that's probably because Donna's been on his ass. Now I'm living
with a stranger that won't come out of the bedroom.
Yeah. I need this time.
I make it back to the ranch and tend to a few small chores around the main barn. My dad's out in the pastures with the herd and I probably won't see him again till dinner time. Every now and then he'll break for lunch, but after a breakfast like that and this heat, I won't want another big meal right away.
I make sure we have the chicks ready for tomorrow's ride into town, gather all the packaging needed for them, and on my way out of the barn give Lucky a good rub down and brushing.
Time for a shower. Finally.
"Jo?" I announce, walking in the back door because it was convenient.
When there's no answer from her room I strip off my dirt laced shirt and start to undo my pants, needing a tall glass of water before heading up for my shower. I used to be able to strip down right here in my kitchen, but now I gotta make sure a certain Sleeping Beauty hasn’t left her lair.
As I round the corner to the kitchen I let out an annoyed growl. "Every goddamned cupboard, wide the fuck open," I bitch to myself, walking up to the pantry and slamming it closed just to be met with her tiny figure, chillin’ on the fucking countertop eating my peanut butter straight out of the jar. My heart just about drops out of my chest. "Fuck! The hell, Jo?" I blurt because she scared the hell outta me.
Her wide eyes flit to my grip that’s clamping her thighs and I feel like a tool because I don't even remember grabbing her. I glance down at my hands then back up to her eyes before snatching them away and taking a step back. I pause, then reach out and grab the peanut butter container...just because.
"That's my peanut butter!" I’m trying not to stare at her bare, smooth legs my fingers just had hold of.
"Yeah, and I'm eating it!" She yanks it back, diving right back in.
"Dude, grab a spoon and a plate, at least! You're sitting right next to them!" I step forward and reach behind her, grabbing a plate then realize how close I've gotten. Again. "Here." I shove the plate across the counter next to her and back away. "Plate. Spoon. Peanut butter. Only animals eat from the container."
Her offended gaze goes from the peanut butter then to me and she hops down. "Moo," she says then runs her tongue around the inside of the jar. She shoves it at my chest and storms away. As hard as I try, I can't pull my eyes from her ass, and that's a problem.
I follow her to her room and push the doors open before they close, then lean on the doorframe.
"You're coming with me tonight," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. She's already back in bed. "Bonfire at the creek. We'll get you some friends."
"I think I'm gonna pass."
"I think I lift hay bales twice your weight, easily, daily. You're coming with, Jo. That's not a question." I grin at her and expect it when she throws a pillow at me, batting it out of the way.
"So you're going to literally strong arm me into hanging out with you. Are you that desperate? Because I'm not."
"Yep." I shrug. "We're heading out right after supper. It gets chilly, you should prolly bring a jacket." I push off her doorframe and start to walk away but she stops me.
"I'm not going!" she yells. "I'm really tired." I feel like this girl has two levels: sleeping, or angry.
"You've been sleeping all day. I promise to let you sleep when we get home. Just humor me?" I break out the smile in hopes she can't tell me no.
"Why do you want to hang out so bad? You don't even know me."
"So? You're my step sister. I wanna get to know you."
"Not to be a bitch or anything, but I'm not really your step sister, okay?" Her eyes dart from mine to my bare chest then she cringes and looks away. “Anyway, I’m just a drug addict thief. Not much to get to know.”
"You were. You're not anymore," I tell her, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Everyone deserves a second chance."
She snickers and rolls her eyes. "I don't feel sorry for myself." She saunters toward me, her hips swaying all the way from the bed. Grabbing the doors, she’s got her feet spread and arms open before she looks at me from head to toe. Then, cruel as ever, she says, "I feel sorry for you," and shoves the doors closed.
My hand stops them from slamming in my face and I take a step into her room, closer to her. "You're coming with me tonight, Jo. Like it or not." There's only so much patience I can show this girl, and she's reaching the end of my rope, but I gotta try.
"If Donna's paying you to play nice, you can cut the shit and I'll act like we're the best of friends. I'm not here to make friends or family. I just need a place to stay to get on my feet before I go back to New York."
"What's in New York that you can't get here?"
"My family."
"Your mom's here. Your dad's what? Dead? So you talking cousins or some shit?" I'm damn sure Donna doesn't know of this plan or she'd never let this girl out of her sight.
“No. I have a street family. People I lived on the streets with. Shit, Brandt.”
I cock my eyebrow at her street family. "Well, that's not happening. Good luck trying though." I chuckle and back away. "You haven't eaten all day. Dinner's soon and then we're leaving so I suggest you shower and do whatever it takes for you girls to get ready. I'm heading up to shower."
“I ate your peanut butter!" she snarls, slamming the doors to her room.
"I ate your peanut butter," I mock, heading upstairs. She's either going to drive me absolutely insane or maybe I'll find a way to get through to her. Either way, I promised my dad and Donna that I’d try and show her the right way, so I gotta try.
My shower's refreshing, but I keep getting distracted by thoughts I don’t need to be having about my step sister. The way she strutted toward me right before she tried to slam her bedroom doors in my face, I thought for sure she had other intentions. I should have known though. She ain’t here to make friends, and she certainly ain’t here to seduce her step brother. I need to keep my guard up around this girl because she’s trouble. In the evil way.
After dressing, I fasten my belt buckle and look in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Hopefully she makes this easy. Hopefully she’s had a change of heart and wants to make some friends. Hopefully she ain’t down there sticking pins in a Brandt voodoo doll. I roll my eyes and head downstairs.
Knock one, I’m met with silence. Knock two, the same. Knock three, my blood’s starting to boil so I swing her doors open and lean on the doorframe. Three knocks was enough warning. "You ready to go?"
"What the fuck?!" She covers her bare chest and turns her back. Shit, I didn’t think about what I might burst in on. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Before I can bolt, the ink across her back has me moving farther into her room. I didn’t mean to, but I’m drawn to the tattoos on this girl. I haven’t ever seen this kind of work on pristine skin. "Nice ink. That hurt?" I want to reach out and touch it, but that may be a little weird.
"Get the fuck out!" she screams so loud it echoes. When she spins, grabbing a pillow, her tits are on display and that’s where my eyes drop, but I get hit so hard in the face, I stumble sideways.
"Damn, Jo!" I laugh, taking a step back. "Get your shirt on. We're leaving here in five." I head out of the room before she can assault me anymore. None of that was my intent and I was caught up in the moment. First with the tattoo covering her back, then her tits I wasn’t mad about seeing. But I need to keep my guard up around this girl or I'm gonna end up with black eyes before the week’s over.
Five minutes come and go and there's no movement from her room. I roll my eyes and let out a sigh, prepping myself for the battle of the century. My dad asked me to take her, and he's right. She needs friends. It just isn’t natural withering away in a bedroom, no matter how comfortable that bed is.
"Jo," I blurt, barging into her room to see her lying in bed. She's made no attempt to get ready to leave.
"Get the fuck out before I cut you." The devil's in her words but it doesn't scare me so I move toward the be
d. Like she can’t believe I’m not heeding her warning, she sits up and glares at me.
I grin. "I’m sorry about this, Jo." In one swift movement, I grab a hoodie off the floor and yank it over her head. She screams and tries to fight me, but like I said, I'm ten times stronger than this scrappy girl. "We're going to the bonfire," I grunt, throwing her over my shoulder.
Kicking and screaming, she almost gets me in my sack, but I lock her legs. Curse words are flying. Words I really hope my dad don’t hear because he won’t take too kindly to a lady talking that way. Right now though, she ain’t really a lady. She’s the devil with a nice pair of tits and some cool ink. I haul her out the door and she starts to beg me to put her down.
"I'll put you down if you promise to stop fighting and just come along." I’m straining to keep her from falling when her legs start to kick again. She lets out a scream and I can't help but laugh. "Who knew something so tiny would be this feisty. You may wanna chill though. My dad or Donna hears you and we'll get our heads knocked together." I unlock my truck when we're ten feet away.
"This is kidnapping! This is fucking stupid!" growls from her and I chuckle when she goes limp over my shoulder.
