Stepping Over the Line: A Stepbrother Novel (Shamed) (11 page)

“Dr. Boudreaux?” Friday morning, Etta, my office receptionist caught me in the hall when I was between patients. “Sorry to bother you, but your mother-in-law is holding on line two. She says it’s an emergency, and that she’s already tried your cell.”

“Okay, thanks. Please let Red know I’ll be right back.” Red was my nurse, and official link to sanity while in the clinic. She wore her corkscrew-curly red hair in a bun and by the end of each day, usually looked like a freckled, prickly sea urchin. Temporarily bailing on the three patients already waiting in exam rooms, I ducked into my office to answer Suzette’s call. I didn’t like the way she referred to me as her daughter-in-law, but I wasn’t sure how to gracefully stop her. I suppose if and when I ever started a new relationship, the habit would naturally end, but it wasn’t as if dating prospects were lined up at my door. Even if they were, only one man besides Chad had ever captured my attention, and he was off-limits.

Just thinking about that kiss brought on a hot flash.

I sat behind my desk, picked up my phone and punched line two. “Suzette, hi. What’s wrong?” I fanned myself with a drug company brochure.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?”

“I’m sorry. It’s been a full morning, and I haven’t even looked at my cell.”

She sighed. “You’d think for family, you could make an exception. Canton said you’ve been talking regularly with him, but suddenly, I’m not good enough?”

I leaned back in my chair, dropping my makeshift fan in favor of grabbing a heart valve–shaped stress ball to squeeze while I was being reprimanded. The paperwork for Cook’s trust glared at me from across my desk. The documents had to be signed in front of a notary, and I hadn’t gotten around to that, either.

“When Chad was alive, he always made it a point to check in every morning.”

“Suzette, I don’t mean to be short with you, but I have patients waiting. My receptionist said you had an emergency?”

“Yes, I do. Theo and I had planned to drive down this afternoon to be with Cook for Halloween…” Oh boy, was this going to be good news or bad? “But he’s on a double murder trial, and says he can’t leave his client. Canton’s tied up in court, too.”

“Oh no.”
That
was the emergency? “Well, you’ll still make it, right? Cook’s excited to see you.”

“Aw, I miss him terribly, but my doctor doesn’t want me to drive on my new antidepressants.”

“What are you taking?” This was a new development. I knew she liked her Xanax, but then at times, didn’t we all?

“I don’t have the bottle with me.”

“Suzette, if you’re unhappy with the side effects, you need to—”

“I don’t need a lecture. I just need to see my sweet angel. And that’s really why I called. I know you’re busy with your patients and little charity, but could you please bring him to me?”

My
little
charity fed hungry people from four counties!

“Please, doll. You know how tough the holidays are on me. Chad loved them all. I’ll never forget the year you two went to his fraternity party as Antony and Cleopatra. You made a gorgeous couple.”

“Thank you. But Suzette, if you’re emotionally struggling, find help.”

“I will, but are you bringing Cook? I need him.”

I gave the stress heart an extra-hard squeeze. “I’m sorry, Suzette, but I can’t get away.”

“This place is bigger than my whole cell block was.” Grady gazed at the dining room’s fading fresco fourteen feet above our heads. The Victorian was officially mine. I’d expected—hoped—home ownership might somehow cure my unease, but if anything, it had only worsened my sense of not belonging in the town where I’d once been the king’s son. Now, I didn’t fit in with polite society, and I’d grown bored with the work and guys on my park crew. Rake, pick up trash, feed fallen branches into the chipper/shredder.

Much like it had been in prison, my life felt set on constant repeat.

I was restless. Needed
more.

Aw hell, who was I kidding? All I needed was the one thing I couldn’t have—the girl.

“What are you gonna do with all this space?” Grady’s question startled me from my thoughts.

“Don’t have a clue. Just seemed like a waste to let this pretty lady sit here and rot.”

“Pretty my ass…” Grady was back to staring at the ceiling that would no doubt cost me thousands to restore. “This bitch is high-maintenance. A real ballbuster.”

“That’s what I love about you, man.” Laughing, I slapped his back. “You’re bursting with unicorns and rainbows.”

He flipped me the bird. “Ride
this
unicorn. Just sayin’. This ain’t gonna be cheap. And you know it’s haunted.”

Someone banged on the massive front door. “Trick or treat!”

“Did you know today’s Halloween?” I asked.

“Yep.” He ambled to the door.

“What’re you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” He took out a battered leather wallet. “You have to give the kids something. They wait all year for this night.” He opened the house to a vampire, hobo, and Cinderella. “Aren’t y’all something. Really something.”

They held out plastic pumpkins.

He landed a dollar in each. “There you go. Y’all have fun.”

“We will! Thank you!” The three kids raced to the next house.

“How did they even know anyone was here?” I stood next to Grady on the imposing brick front steps. Whereas most homes on the block featured wide front porches, welcoming guests to linger, my house’s imposing double doors, steep stairs, and squat covered landing screamed,
Go away.

“For a used-to-be hotshot lawyer, you’re not very smart.” He ducked inside to flick off the porch light I hadn’t realized I’d turned on.

An alien and ghost ran up the walk. “Trick or treat!”

“Your turn,” Grady said.

I shot him a dirty look before paying both kids to leave. “We should probably lock up for the night. I’m low on ones.”

“Sounds good. You can show me the rest some other time.”

I switched all the lights off, then used the skeleton key to lock the front door. The electricity hadn’t been updated for decades. If I didn’t want the place to burn down, replacing the cloth wiring should be a top priority. But then I also had a leaky roof and wood rot to contend with.

Grady and I made it halfway down the block when I got ambushed by a pirate. “Uncle Garrett!”

“Cook.” My clenched stomach disliked this development. “Hey, bud. Great costume.”

“Thanks. I was s’posed to be a cowboy, but Mom didn’t have time to find a hat and boots.”

“Where is your mom?”

“Back there with my friend, Mary.” He pointed toward Savannah and another woman with a small girl dressed as Buzz Lightyear. “Wanna see my candy? I got lots!”

“Sure…” I knelt. How did I play this? Cook seemed like a great kid. I had no beef with him. If anything, I owed him. His mother, on the other hand, would no doubt use this opportunity to hurl some dumbass accusation of me stalking her and her kid. “Wow, bud. You got quite a haul. Wanna sell that big Snickers?”

“I don’t know?” He wrenched his little features into a mask of concentration. “Snickers are my favorite.”

“Mine, too.” The closer Savannah came, the more determined I grew to make her kid love me. Why? Because he deserved a great substitute dad and I knew it would piss her off. “How about if I give you a hundred bucks for that Snickers?” I took a hundred from my wallet, and handed it to him.

His eyes grew huge.
“Whoa…”

“Damn,” Grady whistled. “If I’d known you paid that kind of cash for candy, I’d have run to the corner store.”

“Do we have a deal?”

Cook handed over my purchase, then tore off down the sidewalk. “Mom! Look what Uncle Garrett gave me!”

Score.

Grady whistled again. “You sure do like stirring that pot. She’s gonna be pissed.”

“What can I say? I live for danger.”

As if on cue, Savannah charged in my direction. Even with her lips pressed into a scowl, she looked beautiful. Her faded jeans hugged her hips, and her scoop-necked long-sleeved T-shirt showcased the sexy column of her throat. For the first time since I’d been back, she wore her long hair down. It billowed as she walked. If she hadn’t been on a sidewalk in Julep, Mississippi, holding her little pirate’s hand, she could have starred on a Paris runway.

“Cook, please give Uncle Garrett his money.”

“Why? We had a deal.”

“Because that’s too much money for you.” She looked straight at me. “Which Uncle Garrett should have known.”

“Here.” Pouting, Cook held out his profit. “Mom said I can’t have this.”

“Bummer.” I took it, returning his candy. “Good thing I hadn’t already eaten it.”

“Yeah…” He squirmed free of his mom’s hold. “Come on, Mary. Let’s go to the next house.”

Before his mom could stop him, Cook darted across the quiet street to a Queen Anne home that had a stuffed Frankenstein seated in a porch rocker.

“Mom,” Cook’s friend said to the woman with Savannah. “He didn’t look before crossing the street.”

“I know, sweetie. That’s why you should run and catch up with him. He needs you to keep him out of trouble.” The striking black woman looked familiar.

“Okay.” The girl made quite a show out of looking back and forth down the street.

Meanwhile, Savannah crossed her arms and seemed to withdraw inside herself.

“Garrett, it’s nice seeing you again.” Savannah’s friend held out her arms for a hug, which I awkwardly stepped into.

“Do I—”

“Know me?” She laughed and tightened her hold. “Yes, you do. But I’d be lying if I told you my ego wasn’t bruised over being forgotten.”

Had I slept with her? If I could go back in time, I’d tell my younger self to take better notes. “Sorry.”

“No need for apologies. It has been a while. I’m Kenya. Violet’s niece.”

“Of course.” I conked my forehead. “Damn. You grew up.”

“Likewise.” She laughed. “Only, I tried staying out of the limelight. Since you’re so popular, I had an unfair advantage over you.” A wink followed her dig.

“Touché.”

Grady cleared his throat. “Garrett’s never been known for his manners. I’m Grady Nesbitt. I knew your aunt back in the day.”

“No kidding?” Kenya’s eyebrows shot up. “Do tell. I always wondered if my old spinster aunt had a wild side.”

Grady chuckled. “I’m not one to kiss and tell, but don’t let her uppity front fool you.”

“I’m intrigued.” She linked her arm with Grady’s. “Spill everything.”

“Mom!” Kenya’s daughter shouted. “Can we go to the next house?”

“Sure.”

As if just now aware of the conversation, Savannah shook her head. “It’s getting late. Shouldn’t we get back?”

“It’s barely six,” Kenya said. “The kids are having fun, and I’m getting dirt on my aunt.”

“I have a headache,” Savannah said.

“Then let me watch the kids, and you go lie down. Garrett can ensure you make it in one piece, and Mister Grady can gossip with me. Problem solved.”

“I like this plan,” Grady said with a big smile. “Let’s go.”

My two old friends made it halfway across the street before Savannah would even look at me.

I cleared my throat. “This is awkward.”

“Why are you here?” She tipped her head back, catching the last few rays of sun. “Why are you
always
here?”

“I could ask the same of you. This is my block.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “I thought you lived six blocks north?”

“I’m flattered you remembered. Actually, I bought the house on the corner, which makes us neighbors.”

“No.” She shook her head as if her word needed extra emphasis. “No, I will not accept that.”

A flurry of trick-or-treaters giggled while skipping by, followed by presumably one of their fathers chasing after them with a camera.

“Funny, I don’t recall your approval being a contingency anywhere on the paperwork.”

“You know what I mean. I thought you were leaving town? Going back to California as soon as your license is reinstated.”

I sighed. “That’s a longshot, so could we please try getting along?” I held out my hand to her. “Since we both know you don’t really have a headache, let me show you the house. From the cupola, on a clear day you can practically see all the way to Jackson.” I was rambling. I knew I was. The fact was embarrassing, but I couldn’t seem to stop. Just being near her made me crazy in the best way. “Plus, the stained glass is original. You have to see it.”

“Stop pretending we’re friends. We’re not. And, as you so eloquently pointed out, we’re not even technically family, which makes us nothing.”

“You know that’s a lie.” I raised her hand to my lips, kissing each finger.

“Don’t.” She wrenched her hand free. “Someone will see.”

“But it’s all right for me to kiss you when we’re by ourselves?”

“No. Of course not.” She started walking toward her house. “That’s not what I mean.”

We both stepped off the sidewalk to avoid colliding with the entire Ghostbusters team.

She inadvertently landed her ass against my fly. My lonely cock roared in approval. I slipped my hand around her waist, pressing her closer. I buried my face in her hair, breathing her in. Vanilla, jasmine, and the ocean. But how could that be? I hadn’t replenished her stock.

I whispered in her ear, “You still wear my perfume.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s habit.”

“I call bullshit.” I nuzzled her neck, and she groaned. “I’m in you. I am you. But only the best parts.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She was yet again charging down the sidewalk, and then running, and I followed her all the way to her house where she fumbled while fitting her key into the lock.

I took it from her and finished the job, letting us both inside before closing the door and locking it behind us. And then my hands were in her hair, on her cheeks, her shoulders and hips. I crushed my mouth to hers, intending to be gentle, but somehow going astray. I needed all of her, all at once and couldn’t slow down.

There were stairs, but I was caught up in a controlled freefall, bringing her with me, atop me, refusing to let her go. Our kiss became my air. Her scent, the ground beneath me. Nothing mattered but her. The whole of my life was funneled into the undeniable fact that she was all that had ever been. Without her, I was a miserable, mean SOB. With her, all things were possible and probable and true.

She was tugging at my waistband, and my roving hands skimmed her waist beneath her shirt. We were still kissing, but then after wriggling her free of her jeans, and me of mine, I was on top of her, arching my hips down to meet her every upward thrust. But gravity worked against us, and so I rolled her on top. My ass met the stairs’ smooth wood, and we were still kissing and my mind was swimming in a lake pooled with her. Only her.

A gasp escaped her when I shoved myself in whole. “I’m sorry,” I said. “You weren’t ready.”

She shook her head, then nodded and flavored our ongoing kiss with her tears. “I-I am.”

I pumped in and out, trying to take it slow and failing. She made me lose control. She made me forget I’d ever even had control. She made everything good and clean and pure. She erased the ugly in my past and made a silent promise to fill me with her beauty and light.

She tensed and then cried out, pulling me along with her over the edge. I dug my fingers into her ass, pushing her farther down my pole, afraid I’d leave marks, yet wanting tangible proof this wasn’t a dream.

But then it was done. We were both breathing heavily and the sanctity I’d attached to our act felt spoiled somehow.

She was up and grabbing for her jeans. “There’s a bathroom at the end of the hall.”

Her words barely registered before she passed me on the stairs in what I took to be a mad dash to get away.

“Fuck…” Heart still hammering, I covered my face with my hands. What had I done?