Stepping Over the Line: A Stepbrother Novel (Shamed) (14 page)

“Oh?” Brows raised she looked to me.

“He’s got a natural affinity for it.” I winked. “You might have a laundry savant on your hands.”

She tried maintaining her stern pose, but failed by cracking a sliver of a smile. “You two are nuts. Wash up for supper.”

“Come on, Uncle Garrett! You can use my special Hulk soap! It’s green and everything!” When Cook held out his hand for me to hold, I clasped it and experienced the sort of inexplicably strong connection that I’d never felt with anyone besides his mother. On a rational level, I knew my affection for her was transferring to him, but that knowledge didn’t change the fact that I couldn’t wait to spend more time with the munchkin.

I sat across the table from Cook and Garrett and for a few fragile moments, felt incredibly blessed. I pretended that instead of this shared dinner being a rare and precious gift, that it was the norm. I envisioned how different everything might now be if Garrett was Cook’s father. Would he have fought to get released sooner? Would our parents have disowned us? Would Garrett and I have united anyway, raising our son together despite our parents’ disapproval? Or gone our separate ways to keep up appearances, but still sharing custody?

Garrett launched a sword fight using a garlic hot dog bun as a weapon. Cook was thrilled to play along.

Of course, I should have stopped the fun. These kinds of shenanigans would never fly at one of Suzette or Mom’s formal meals, but then Cook usually ate his dinner in the kitchen on formal occasions.

When Garrett surrendered to Pirate Cook, I asked, “How much longer are you required to stay in the halfway house?”

“I’m officially done today. Same with my court-appointed park job. I still have another eleven months of parole, but as of tonight, I’ll be staying in my own place.” That long? My heart sank at the realization that my stepbrother wasn’t leaving any time soon. How would I find the will to resist his many charms for even mere days? Let alone, months?

“The haunted house?”

“There’s not a ghost in sight.” He helped himself to seconds of Caesar salad.

“Ghosts are scary.” Cook froze with a strand of spaghetti hanging from the corner of his mouth. “Uncle Garrett, is your house really haunted?”

“Not even a little bit—except I am scared of how much it might cost to fix. Do you know any good electricians or carpenters?”

He wrinkled his nose. “What’re those?”

“Great question.” Garrett’s rich, baritone laugh thawed parts of me I never thought could be warm again. “Those are guys—or gals—who will fix up my icky, old haunted house to make it look like new. But from the quotes I’ve gotten, they will also be stealing all my money—just like a pirate!” He lunged close to Cook to tackle and tickle him into a shrieking frenzy.

In all of his five years, I’d never seen him happier—even on a trek to Disney World with Suzette and Theo. He needed a man in his life. He needed his dad. But since Chad was gone, maybe his uncle would do? Maybe Suzette and Theo would see the benefit of having Garrett pay homage to the life he’d accidentally taken by helping to raise Chad’s son?

What about you?
Your own need for a man in your life—but not just any man, but Garrett? Maybe—
just maybe
—the Ridgemonts might understand Garrett’s need for penance. But they would never come to grips with me hooking up with Chad’s mortal enemy. Then there were our parents to contend with. Dad and Mom weren’t likely to sign off on their son and daughter playing house any time soon.

Canton called, but I let him go to voice mail. I selfishly didn’t want the happy spell of this family scene broken.
Hey girl. Mom literally just bought a snow leopard for the Jackson Zoo, and they’re putting Cook’s and Chad’s names on a plaque in my brother’s honor. It would be great if you both could come to the Sunday afternoon ceremony. If you can’t get away, I’d be happy to drive down and grab Cook for the weekend. Let me know
.

This news should have made me happy, but all it really did was make me feel dirty. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I stop myself from welcoming Garrett into my home? Why couldn’t I remain loyal to Cook’s father? Why couldn’t I stop lusting for the one man who held the power to destroy my carefully balanced life?

Two weeks passed.

My weekend with Canton, Cook, and his grandparents was surprisingly pleasant—at least during those times when my mind didn’t drift to Garrett and his kisses.

He’d hired a contractor to fix the tile he’d broken in my shower. The physical proof of what we’d done might be gone, but striking those images from my head wasn’t as easy. His stitches were out, and all that remained of his injury were a few angry red scars.

Since he’d moved into his Victorian mausoleum, he’d started eating dinner with me and Cook most every night. I knew I was playing with fire, but couldn’t stop myself. The three of us felt right together.

Suzette, Theo, and Canton were due in a little over a week for Thanksgiving with my parents and I didn’t know how to tell Garrett that even though Mom had invited him for the holiday dinner, I wished he’d politely decline.

To say I was stressing about the event was a massive understatement.

I was terrified.

Canton and I were in a shockingly good place, and I actually liked it. Now that we were on friendly terms, it took the awkward edge off of being around his parents.

The renovation project had transformed Garrett into a new man, making my life all the more confusing. His bitter edge had been replaced by a fun-loving prankster and flirt, and he didn’t deserve the wrath of Chad’s parents. As for Canton, I knew he wouldn’t approve of what was happening between Garrett and me, but given our new and improved relationship, maybe he wouldn’t take it so badly? Still, my mother had suggested that Suzette and Theo stay in Jackson for the holiday, but my pseudo mother-in-law insisted on seeing her grandson. Mom—a master societal diplomat, assumed everyone would be on their best manners.

I did not.

It was an ordinary Tuesday night, and we had just finished eating carryout Chinese. Garret and I had put Cook to bed after a bath and story, and now came that awkward time of night when we were alone. This was the time that would be ideal for cuddling and talking about a shared future, but since that wasn’t in our cards, I was never quite sure what to do with my hands when all I wanted to do was skim my palms over his chest.

“Want me to make a fire?” Garrett asked after topping off both of our white wines.

“Please.” I put detergent in the dishwasher, closed the door, and started it.

I joined him in the living room. He knelt at the hearth, adding kindling and paper beneath the logs already piled onto the metal grate. I drew the drapes before settling into an armchair, tucking my legs beside me, then covering myself with the hand-crocheted afghan from the back of the chair. I needed to ward off the chill I suspected had less to do with the November night’s cold air and everything to do with fooling myself into believing I could ever be satisfied with just being friends with my stepbrother.

Once a fire crackled, Garrett sat on the sofa. “You’ve got a nice place—cozy.”

“Thanks.” I somehow managed a smile.
Want to make love on the rug in front of the hearth?

“Not sure if Dad told you, but my law license appeal was denied.” Staring into the fire, he ran his fingers atop his still buzz-cut hair.

“Oh, G, I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard.”

He shrugged. “It is what it is. I knew it was a long shot. They did say I could appeal again in another year.”

“Still…” My body wanted to go to him, but my conscience refused to let me. Holding him would lead to kissing him and possibly even more. That couldn’t happen again. “I know you’d hoped for a better outcome.”

“True. Dad used to have friends in high places. Now, I’m guessing they’ve all retired?”

“Honestly, I don’t think that’s the case at all. I think it’s more likely that Chad’s parents have former law school buddies on the board. Of course, you’d never be able to prove anything, but my guess is that you were doomed from the start.”

“Don’t sugarcoat your delivery for my benefit.”

“Sorry. I’m just calling it like I see it.” Against my better judgment, I joined him on the sofa, putting my hand on his knee. My plan was to comfort him, but he covered my hand, easing his fingers between mine. I needed to tell him to let me go, but his simple touch felt so good, I couldn’t. “Chad’s parents…they’re still angry—probably always will be. They don’t accept any blame on their son’s part for what happened. It’s all on you.”

He tightened his grip on my hand. “What about you? Where do you put the blame?”

I arched my head back and sighed. “Myself.”

In all these years, I don’t think I’d admitted my truth. If I hadn’t been so desperate to mask my guilt for screwing my stepbrother, I never would have pinned Cook’s paternity on Chad, we wouldn’t have gotten engaged before either of us was ready—clearly, since he’d felt the need to screw one of my bridesmaids, he hadn’t been fully committed to our relationship, and probably wouldn’t have even proposed—at least not until after our residencies. If I hadn’t been drunk the night of my graduation party, I wouldn’t have, for all practical purposes, molested Garrett.

See? Probably I should serve time—in a nuthouse.

“What did you do other than love the guy and have his kid?”

“It’s complicated.”

“How?” He raised my hand to his mouth, flipped it, and brushed his lips against my palm.

“If I knew, there wouldn’t be an issue.” I shivered—not from cold or my blatant lie, but my attraction for him that societal mores demanded I deny.

He said, “I’m going to kiss you.”

“No.” For added emphasis, I shook my head.

He framed my face with his hands, giving me no option but to meet his intense gaze. “After I kiss you, I’m going to carry you to your bed, and give you a proper fuck.”

“Way to woo me…” I might have feigned being offended by his indecent proposal, but I wanted it—him—whatever he had to offer. My body craved a repeat performance of our time on the stairs and in the shower and even back to the golf pro shop. The fact that we shared a mutual attraction was no secret—at least to us. On the flip side, no one else had a clue. For the sake of my reputation as the respectable town doctor, it needed to stay that way.

“Is that what you want? The wine and roses routine? Diamonds? Trips to Paris and Bora Bora? Name it—literally, anything money can buy, and it’s yours.” He still held my face, and had steadily leaned closer until the achingly familiar scent of his breath wreathed me like hypnotic smoke.

“I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Except you.
Who was I kidding? From the first time we’d met at the Derby, our physical attraction had been undeniable. But then, given time, our friendship had grown, too. Until he’d been the one I’d called when needing to vent about a professor or when I’d been summoned into a sorority standards meeting for having beer in my room.

“I don’t.” He leaned closer still, until his warm exhalations tickled my lips, teasing me with the promise of how good it would feel to kiss him. Have him inside me. Wake with him beside me. “Prison messed with my head. It made me see life doesn’t guarantee shit. If you see something you want, you have to go for it—fight for it. I want you.”

“Y-you can’t have me.” Only we both knew he could. If he breached the one-eighth of an inch separating our lips, he could have me any way he wanted for as long as he wanted, but what would that solve? If anything, it would only make our situation all the more untenable, given that the more I was around him, the more I wanted him. “You know why.”

“I’m an ex-con. People already think the worst of me. So what if I screw my stepsister? As long as Mom, Dad, and your pseudo in-laws don’t find out, we’re golden.”

“You can’t be that naïve. This is Julep. Gossip is as common as dandelion fuzz floating in the breeze.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s my cue to leave.” He backed away, and my hopeful heart shattered. Part of me wanted him to just take me so the decision would be out of my hands. My whole life, I’d been responsible and played by the rules, but where had that gotten me? Sure, I had a great kid, and a few treasured friends and parents I adored, but where did any of that leave me personally? It had been years since I’d been on a date. Maybe if I hadn’t been so horny, I wouldn’t have been so quick to succumb to my stepbrother’s advances?

“Garrett, wait.” I chased him to the door.

“Why?” His sigh struck me as impatient. “We’re both adults. It’s no secret I want you, but I’m tired of our dance.”

“What do you propose? We regularly fuck like bunnies, but hide the fact from our parents and Chad’s?”

“Something like that. Or, we could try the adult approach, and sit them down for a rational discussion.”

“And say what? Make an official announcement that we’re fuck buddies? No. Not going to happen. If whatever’s simmering between us was more serious, I can see maybe going to them, but—”

“You want a marriage proposal?”

“Did I say that?”

“You implied it. Done. Marry me—now.”

“Mommy?”
Cook wandered down the stairs, hugging his stuffed turtle. “How come you and Uncle Garrett are fighting?”

I met him midway up the stairs. “We’re not, sweetie. You must have heard the TV.”

Garrett snorted, mumbling for only me to hear. “You lie to the kid as easily as you do to me.”

“Uncle Garrett, can you read me another story? There’s a monster on my window.”

“Sure, bud.” When Garrett eased behind me on the stairs, the brief contact made my eyes sting with frustrated tears. The brush of the front of his body against the back of mine sent me into an emotional tailspin. My want for him, my need, was a breathing visceral ache I could no more control than the weather. “Run ahead, and pick out which one you want.”

“Okay.” Cook darted back up the stairs and to his room.

Without announcing his intentions, Garrett flattened his hands against the wall behind me, then slashed his lips against mine. The kiss wasn’t pretty or tender or kind. It was elemental and raw and made me wet. As abruptly as it had started, he broke our connection to finish climbing the stairs.

In the moment, I was ashamed to feel jealous of my son. I wanted to share story time and more dinner table, hot dog bun sword fights. I wanted to be a normal mom and wife, but considering Garrett was my stepbrother, what did normal even mean? He’d been back in Julep for barely a couple months—out of which we’d only been civil a few weeks. Yet in that time, the years between us had shortened until I now felt as if we’d never been apart.

Even worse—I didn’t want to be apart.