Stepping Over the Line: A Stepbrother Novel (Shamed) (3 page)

In the house, I ran straight to my room and quietly shut and locked the door.

The exertion sent me straight to the bathroom, where I threw up the toast I’d managed to eat for breakfast. For some women, pregnancy was one of the happiest times of their life. They felt consumed with peace, well-being, and the joy of having a tiny life growing inside them.

I was not one of those women.

I’d lost ten pounds and my pale complexion and straw-like hair made me look like a background sewer rat from
Les Mis.
At the same time, my boobs were enormous. My obstetrician said this was normal—even fairly common—for first trimesters. I thought I was being karmically punished for not telling my future husband that there was a possibility that this baby could be Garrett’s. But how would I even start that conversation?

Um, sweetie, love you lots, but I accidentally drank way too much at my graduation party, and then jumped my stepbrother in a pro shop
.
We couldn’t be bothered to use a condom, because I’ve been secretly hot for him literally from the moment we met. Promise, it was only that one time, and we’ll never be together again, but there’s a fifty-fifty shot that this baby you’re marrying me for isn’t even yours.

I flushed the toilet, then wet a washcloth with cold water, and clamped it to my forehead.

I’m a horrible person. The worst.

Further complicating matters was the fact that my insides glowed nuclear neon green with jealousy of my friend Constance. I hated her for sleeping with Garrett. How could she not know he was mine? But then the joke was on me, because no matter how desperately I wanted him to be my sole property, he could never be.

And so I’d been pissy with him in the car—not because I’d resented picking him up, but because I’d been out of my mind with not just wanting him, but needing to talk to him. How had I landed in this unimaginable place? In love with my stepbrother, yet on the threshold of marrying another man? I loved Chad, but not like I loved Garrett—never with the all-consuming need and longing that had clearly, quite literally, driven me out of my mind.

Finally consummating my every fantasy with Garrett hadn’t only been morally reprehensible, but just plain stupid. How had I thought just once would be enough? If anything, since being with him, I now had emotional and physical proof of the wild suspicions I’d fought most of my life to hide. Yet for all of my determination to be done with my feelings for him, he might as well have been a glass jug with a skull-and-crossbones poison emblem blazed across the front.

Only wait—that symbol was out of vogue in the medical world, as it was seen as not threatening to impressionable young minds, but tempting—like a pirate. Which, in the case of my forbidden love for Garrett, made perfect sense. Lord knew I wanted to be plundered.

God, I was a mess!

I cupped my palms to my forehead, praying for peace. Clarity.

Instead, I fought a fresh round of nausea.

Chad, his father, brother, and Daddy were playing eighteen holes at the club before this afternoon’s barbecue that Mom’s BFF, Vivian, was hosting to celebrate our engagement. I should have been glowing—ecstatic about the outpouring of love from friends and family. But how could I be happy about starting my marriage with a lie?

A knock sounded on the bedroom door.

If that was Garrett…

What?
Would I run to him? Explain everything before flinging myself against him? Beg him to spirit me away?

I left the washcloth on the counter, forced a deep breath, and opened the door to thankfully find my mom.

“Where’d you dash off to?” she asked.

I explained in G-rated terms that her stepson had needed a ride.

“That was good of you to pick him up. Your brother does have his wild side.”

Just what I needed to hear. I shrugged before sitting on the still unmade bed.

Mom shut the door, then joined me. “When were you planning to tell me you’re pregnant?”

I gaped in shock, but then the hormonal relief of having at least part of my secret exposed brought on instant tears. I hugged her, sobbing like I hadn’t since my dachshund Ollie had died back in tenth grade. Wild, drunken sex with my stepbrother had brought on temporary amnesia in regard to my bachelor’s in chemical engineering and shiny new med school degree. I’d been stupid for not using protection with Garrett, and, even worse, for purposely not using a condom with Chad. What was wrong with me?

“Aw, sweetheart, why are you crying?” Mom smoothed her hand up and down my back. “A baby is a wonderful blessing. If you’re anything like me, the morning sickness will pass, and then the rest will be a blur of shopping and showers.”

“Mom, I start my residency in September. I’ll barely have time to take a shower, let alone come home to be the guest of honor at one.”

“Pish. We’ll figure it out.” She tucked my flyaway hair behind my ears and kissed my forehead. “Granted, this baby could have come at a more convenient time, but you and Chad have been together awhile now, so I can’t say I’m surprised. Your residency will work itself out, and if you need to, you’ll file for some sort of leave, and then get back to it after the baby’s born. I’ll come for visits, and so will Chad’s mom—”

“Suzette knows?” I drew back in horror.

“Honey, we might be old, but neither of us were buying that story about how you and Chad were so in love you couldn’t wait to get married. Usually, folks don’t insist on getting hitched under such a tight deadline unless the bride doesn’t want to be showing in her wedding gown. Now, take a nice nap. You look like a wilted bouquet left too long in the sun.”

“Thanks.”

She left and I sighed. It wasn’t my style to feel defeated. My whole life, I’d set up goals and met them. I followed rules and always,
always
did what was expected of me by my parents, friends, and professors.

That night with Garrett? I was pleading temporary insanity.

He’d looked so damned good, and for years, I’d worked so damned hard.

For that brief window of time, rules be damned.

I didn’t want him to be my brother, I wanted him to be the man who didn’t make me feel like anything other than a wholly desired woman. I didn’t want to believe I’d planned on seducing him, but deep down, I knew on some level I had. Loving him was no excuse.

In the panicked aftermath of guilt and shame, I’d then been with Chad in the shadows behind the club pool. I’d needed to erase what Garrett and I had done.

Moreover, I’d needed to reassure myself that Chad was the man I wanted—
needed—
to be with. We had similar goals. He had his issues, but overall, he was a good guy and I loved him. Together, we would make a great life.

As for the miniscule chance that my baby was Garrett’s?

I refused to believe it was even a possibility.

Eyes closed, my mind drifted to the Turks and Caicos villa Daddy had rented four years earlier as a treat for his top-selling team members. I’d been on summer break between finishing college and starting med school. Mom begged Garrett to meet us there, and he had.

The trip had been beyond idyllic.

Plenty of blazing sun combined with Garrett’s ripped chest.

I’d been so hot for him that I’d had to pop into my bedroom for “naps,” during which I’d crawl into my bed and beneath cool sheets touch myself in all the places I wished my stepbrother’s fingers and tongue could be.

I was used to the base urges he raised—geez, I’d been fighting them practically since puberty. But then he’d gone and done something that made him all the more desirable on a level I’d never even considered.

Daddy’s top-selling agent had brought his wife and newborn daughter. They wanted to take a day sail and asked me to babysit. Of course, I agreed, and Garrett offered to help…

“Who knew my legal shark of a brother was a secret softie?” I teased poolside while he slathered lotion on the adorable creature’s bare arms and legs. She wore a pink gingham bathing suit with matching hat and one of those swim diapers. “Have you been practicing on Jennie’s girls?”

“Yeah. She tries, but she’s kind of a shit mother.”

“Stop. Don’t say things like that.”

“Sorry. It’s the truth. I guess whatever lousy parenting gene Mom had, she must have passed down to my sister. Hell, maybe I’ve got it, too?” He lifted the infant, cradling her close. She rested her chin atop his shoulder, melting my heart at the sheer beauty of this forbidden man I loved and the tiny angel I hardly knew. My heart ached for Garrett. His sister was the perpetual elephant in the room of our otherwise happy familial home.

For a moment, the baby fussed, but then Garrett gave her a few light jiggles and soothing rubs on her back. Her expression morphed from fear and apprehension to sleepy contentment. My Garrett had done that. I was surprised, but shouldn’t have been. He’d done the same for me for all these years. Whether I’d gotten a bad test score or lost my favorite earring, I couldn’t remember a crisis when he hadn’t been there for me. The times when we were apart, I only felt half alive. When we were together, my heart sang as if he was the missing half that made me whole.

Together, we kicked off our sandals on the pool surround, hopping and jogging and laughing away the pain of the hot tiles burning our soles. Finally on the sand, had Garrett not been my stepbrother, I would have taken his hand. Instead, I settled for just being near him, for reveling in the warm Caribbean sun, walking through sun-kissed sand that made us laugh and skip in a mad dash to the cooling water. Once there, we sat at the surf’s edge, where the baby giggled when the gentle surf licked her toes.

I filled a mental bottle of the scene. The white sand, turquoise water fading into a cerulean sky, the faint briny smell, the lonely cry of gulls diving high over our heads and the occasional happy shrieks of our temporary ward.

I looked toward Garrett and our gazes locked. My breath caught in my throat and my chest tightened with all the trapped words I’d forever wanted to say.
You’re beautiful. I love you. Kissing you just once would make my life complete
.

With the infant between us, he leaned forward, and I leaned forward.

All air had long-since left my lungs.

We were alone in paradise with no one to bear witness to what may or may not happen. He leaned closer still. Close enough now for me to smell lunch’s sweet mango chutney lingering on his breath.

He tilted his head.

I slanted mine in the opposite direction.

Kiss me
, my heart cried.
No one will ever know. It’ll be our secret.

He reached out to me, sweeping flyaway strands of my long hair behind my ear. His simple touch made my body hum, and I topped his hand with my own. With our gazes still locked, I moved his hand lower, over my lips, where I kissed his palm.

A low, guttural moan escaped him. He closed his eyes, arching his head back.

“We’re alone,” I said.

“No, we’re not…” He snatched back his hand to cup the baby’s head.

Okay…What did that mean? Sure, we had the baby, but the sweet little thing napped more than she was awake. Was I flying solo in my attraction for him? Had I forever imagined the whole thing?

No. He shifted his legs—I assumed to hide his Empire State Building-sized erection.

“Do me a favor,” he said. “Either hold the baby or run to the house to grab my phone. I’m expecting a call from Liam that I have to take.”

Just like that, whatever magical web circumstance had spun between us was gone, just as it had been too many times before to count. We’d played this game for years. Pretending what we felt for each other was normal. Deep down, we both knew it wasn’t.

Maybe I should have pressed the issue? Maybe we could have carried on a clandestine, long-distance affair? Meeting up in Denver to boink like bunnies, then never speak of it again?

The really scary part of our avoidance dance was that I feared just sex with him would never be enough. I wanted the total package. Holding hands and sharing meal prep and stories at the end of our days. He might be my stepbrother, but he was also my best friend. I had no right to want more, but I did. And that fact crushed my heart.

The baby fussed, so he pulled her back into his arms, inadvertently filling me with an irrational jealous rage.

“Are you ever going to at least kiss me?” I blurted.

“No.” He clambered to his feet. “My mom and Jennie put my dad through enough, no way would I disrespect him—you—like that.”

“What if I want you to kiss me?” I chased him all the way back to the villa.

“You only think you do.”

“I think you’re afraid!” I ran around him, blocking his way.

“You should be.” His tone darkened the way it usually did when he talked business.

I wanted to press my bikini-clad, sun-drenched body against him. I wanted to kiss his every objection away until nothing but the obvious truth stood between us—that our being together was inevitable. Only what he was more of an adult to realize was that it wasn’t. Our parents’ marriage had forever ruined our chance at a normal loving relationship, and in that moment, I hated them.

The rejected woman in me hated Garrett even more…

It had been a while since I’d thought of our day on the beach with the infant whose name I now couldn’t remember. Garrett had been wonderful with her—far better than I had been. Back then, he’d accused Jennie of being a poor mother.

I cupped my belly, afraid the same could already be said of me.

During my night with Garrett, I’d taken what I’d always wanted. If this baby did turn out to be his, of course he deserved to know the truth, and I would tell him. But this early in my pregnancy, the only paternity tests were invasive and potentially harmful to my child. With luck, my son or daughter would be Chad’s, and the whole issue would vanish.