Stepbrother Charming Read online

I frown. Mom hasn't dated in ages. Hell, being a strong single woman who survived after being left by the anonymous deadbeat who made me was always a big part of her election narrative.

  “No, honey. Gary's much more special than that.” She pauses and looks at him. Talk about puppy love. “I...I don't know how else to say this...”

  Holy shit. I'm sitting up so straight my spine hurts. Mom's never at a loss for words.

  “Claire, your mother's a married woman now,” Gary finishes for her. “I know it's sudden –“

  “So sudden!” Mom squeals, squeezing his arm with her hands. “We didn't want to make a big spectacle. Gary's got way more cameras to worry about than I do. Claire, I cut my trip to Vegas short for this. As soon as he proposed, we headed up to Alaska on his jet. Had ourselves a small, private ceremony in Denali Park. It wasn't even a ceremony, really – just us and a priest, maybe a few grizzlies roaming around behind us. It was beautiful.”

  No joke, I can feel my heartbeat in my eyeballs. It's like they're about to explode. I grab my water and swallow the whole thing, tipping the glass up high so it blocks my view of them.

  “Claire, honey? Are you okay?”

  I don't answer until my cup empties. The glass bangs the table hard when I set it down. I shake my head for like the hundredth time today.

  “I'm...Jesus Christ, Mom! Married? I didn't even know you were seeing anyone!”

  She frowns. It pains my heart to see the big smile melting like that.

  Fuck. I don't like it, but I can't bring myself to totally ruin this special moment. I reach past Gary's hairy arm and pinch Mom's.

  “It's okay. I'll get over it. It's just going to take some getting used to, that's all.” I try to be reassuring.

  Gary clears his throat. “Yes, well, I apologize again for dropping this on you without any formal notice. It was a whirlwind, Claire. One thing I'm never going to be sorry for is putting a ring on this little lady's finger. I hope you understand – we're really in love. I'm going to take the very best care of your mother.”

  They lean in and kiss. There's that stupid head shake again. My prim, upbeat, and always guarded mother is acting like a goddamned teenager. It's seriously freaking me out.

  I lift my hand and summon the waiter over for more water while the two love birds are at it. Mom doesn't even look up while I order a glass of good Malbec and another pitcher. Like, an entire pitcher of water, just for me.

  “I don't get it,” I say, stopping until they're both looking at me again. “Gary, you mentioned something about media? Jesus, I thought this whole thing was about my mom's Senate campaign.”

  Mom smiles and pushes a finger to her lips. “That's our little secret, baby. And it's one I'm not ready for quite yet myself.”

  Gary looks at her and winks. “Come on, Mandy. I think I know all about your ambitions, and I'm right behind you all the way. You're going to make us all proud.”

  Mandy – fucking Mandy? Is he serious? Nobody's called my mom anything besides Amanda or Miss Frost or Representative for as long as I can remember!

  “Gary!” Mom clucks her tongue.

  “Just teasing, dear, I'm sure that decision's a few years off. Your mother was talking about my own little paparazzi issues, Claire,” Gary says as I start massaging my temples. “Since 1997, I've been the founder and CEO of –“

  “Spree,” I cut in. “Fucking Spree. Of course.”

  Mom gives me a stern look at my language. Whatever. It's just as well because my wine shows up along with two other glasses they must've ordered before I arrived. Perfect distraction.

  “We've been using your site since I was a kid,” I continue. “God. Your company's a household name. That must mean you're loaded, right?”

  Mom's mouth drops open. Gary laughs and clinks his glass gently against hers, giving the sparkly champagne inside it a swirl. “It's okay, Mandy. The girl deserves some slack. It's not every day your mother marries a billionaire online mogul without warning.”

  Christ. He can say that again. I have to stop and drink half my Malbec before I'm able to speak again.

  “So, how long have you guys been dating?”

  “It's been – what? – seven or eight months?” Mom looks at Gary and smiles. “We actually met at the big industry dinner in DC about a year ago. Gary came to me personally for some help moving things forward in Washington. I was on my way out and happy to take some risk with his drive to grow Spree because it meant more jobs and more revenue. One thing led to another and...well, here we are today.”

  Yeah, here we are. Just where the hell is here?

  I can't place myself in this reality anymore after they both set off this bombshell in my face. What's really insane is how sure and lovey-dovey they seem. At first, I thought it might be a marriage of convenience, something old people with years in business and government do. America doesn't have blue bloods, but it definitely has aristocrats.

  And yet, the man sitting across from me with his brilliant features and graying hair is a much different kind of royalty than anything we've ever been. A Congresswoman's salary doesn't mean insta-millionaire, especially when she's not taking kickbacks. Mom stayed fairly clean for a politician.

  Her new hubby, on the other hand, is a billionaire. Billion with a capital B. I can't fathom it, but I'm going to have to try.

  This is the new normal, isn't it?

  “Claire, are you sure you're okay?” Gary's tone is almost fatherly.

  Holy shit. Fatherly. That's right – he's officially my new step-father, something that didn't hit me in the face until now. Staring at the huge diamonds on Mom's finger helps drive it home too when she turns her hand and they catch the light.

  “I'm fine. I'll be okay, I mean. It's just a lot to take in after a long night out.”

  “Of course it is, honey. Don't worry. We'll all mull this over at a big family dinner soon enough. I just wanted to give you a chance to find out in a nice, relaxed atmosphere.”

  Ha ha, Mom's so funny today. The way my heart's beating, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to relax again. I look at Gary, narrowing my eyes.

  “So, what's your story? I hope Mom isn't like your fourth wife? Have you been married before, Gary?”

  Another scolding look from Mom. I feel kinda bad, but there's no fucking way I can be polite. Not when my whole world keeps crashing to smithereens. My brain racing a trillion miles an hour strips away the mind-to-mouth filter. Naturally, that makes me think of the asshole and his smothering kiss last night.

  Gary laughs, patting my mom's hand. “It's okay, Mandy. Really. I like curiosity. Claire, you'll be pleased to know your mother's only the second woman I've ever called my wife. And I intend to make sure she's the last.”

  I raise an eyebrow, breathing an inward sigh of relief as more water shows up. I pour it and start sucking it down. My body needs it, plus it might just keep the nuclear reactions inside me from going off.

  “What happened to number one?” I ask in between sips.

  “Skiing accident. It was terrible. I still think about those times – where does it all go?” Gary shakes his head. Finally, someone else's turn to do it. “I was a young man with a startup and a five year old son in those days. There wasn't time to mourn. The only saving grace is I wasn't such a popular guy then – the media left my family alone. I wasn't on their radar yet. It was up to me to raise my son alone while I built my company. I'm pleased to say it all worked out. Mostly, anyway.”

  I nod. Okay, maybe Gary's not such a weirdo with a silver spoon hanging out of his mouth after all. I gnaw on some bread while they make goo-goo eyes at each other again.

  Shit. I hope the spark wears off at some point like all relationships. It's going to be a long fucking summer if I have to see this all the time.

  Munching isn't helping my stomach much. I have to really focus on drinking my water and trying to remember what Dana taught me about meditation from her yoga classes to keep from spitting wine up all over the table.

 
“Honey, you're sure you're okay?” Mom gives me the look of death, demanding I tell her the truth.

  “I think I need to rest. Let my brain recuperate after it's been blown right out my ears. I hope you don't mind if I cut this a little short. I just want to go home.”

  Gary laughs and looks at me. “You're perfectly welcome to join us at our new home, Claire.”

  New home? Oh, shit. I hadn't even considered that, but it does make a scary kinda sense.

  Mom nods. “It's way better than our old condo. I think you'll like the house – Gary had his maid set up a room for you, Claire. You'll find everything you need there, and if anything's missing, just shout. I'll be putting the old place in Tacoma on the market soon too – it's peak buying season, after all.”

  I throw down my napkin and stand up. I really want to whip it right at them and scream until every wine glass in this fucking restaurant breaks.

  It's one thing to have my whole world turned upside down, but now they're telling me the only thing I can really count on – home – is somewhere else?

  “Don't worry about driving. We'll take care of your car,” Gary says. “I already told my driver to wait for you out front. I figured you'd need a little time to be alone and get settled in. You'll find my place in Bellingham very comfortable, Claire. My chauffeur will have you home and be back here to pick us up in no time.”

  Jesus. Bellingham's like an hour north on a good day. They must be planning to sit here for a good long while and drink, maybe make out or something nasty I definitely don't want to see

  I do the only thing I can in this situation. I plaster on my biggest, fakest grin and shake Gary's hand.

  “That actually sounds good right now. Are you sure you'll be okay getting my stuff home? Everything I brought off campus is in the trunk.”

  Mom beams – probably relieved I'm making a graceful exit instead of an explosive one. “Of course! We'll take care of everything, baby. Gary's a good man. When he proposed, I told him you're my number one. Our marriage doesn't change that.”

  “And I told her I want the whole enchilada,” Gary says, reaching for my hand. “Mandy's family is mine now, Claire. I know it's going to take some time, but give me a few months, and you'll see I'm right. I always am.”

  I give him one more weak smile and get the hell away before I'm drowned in their affection or the billionaire’s arrogance. True to his word, there's a sleek black sedan waiting out front with a neat looking driver, who gets out and opens the door for me as soon as he sees me coming.

  My only regret as I slip into the car is that I didn't have more water, and more wine.

  One thing's for sure – Mom and new Step-dad aren't bullshitting about the size of the house. When the car rolls through a gate that's like twice as tall as I am, I know I'm in trouble.

  There's a guard shack. An honest-to-God security checkpoint just for billionaire Gary, and I guess that includes Mom and me too.

  The man in the guard shack smiles and waves us through, just as friendly and perfectly behaved as the driver. The place looks like a modern castle sitting on the coast. Powerful waves churn just over the hills, and I see one of the cleanest Washington beaches ever below.

  On the other side, it's flanked by the most blinding, beautiful green the Pacific Northwest has to offer. The incredible foliage hanging around the house reminds me all our rain has its advantages.

  “Miss Frost,” the driver says, almost like he's about to salute me when we pull up. I step out through the door he's holding, gawking at the monstrous palace for a good thirty seconds.

  Then my stomach twists again, and I'm forced to move, if only to get inside and use the bathroom.

  The key Gary gave me works. It's a card, just like at a hotel, and apparently there's an app to let your phone unlock the door too. I wouldn't expect anything less from a tech mogul.

  Luckily, there's a bathroom nearby. It has about all the fine finishes I expect. I do my business, wash up, and run cold water over my face. What little I've seen of the house so far makes me feel like I need to purify myself just to be here.

  When I step out in the hall, the first thing I hear are footsteps. Thinking I'm alone, I jump. But that's stupid, I tell myself. I already know Gary has a housekeeper and who the hell knows what else – and I'd better get used to it awfully fast since this is my new home now.

  He also mentioned a son...and didn't really say much else about him. Is he living here too?

  I head down a long hall with these awesome murals, hoping it brings me to the kitchen. It does. The massive refrigerator has a whole shelf filled with drinks – mineral water, fancy juices, kombucha, and some other tasty looking imports I've never seen before. It all looks good, but I know I need more water.

  Always more. My stomach won't forgive me until I've replenished everything the last two days have drained from my system.

  I head through the other opening in the kitchen, ready to explore at least this little part of the mansion. There's a dining room, and then a hallway leading to what looks like an awesome living room. There's leather furniture, the biggest glass windows with a perfect view of the ocean, and –

  Oh, hell. There's a young man standing right in the middle of the room, dripping wet from a workout, shirtless. He's ripped and tattooed as all hell. It looks like he's just come in from a run, or maybe using the gym – wherever that is.

  I set my drink down on the nearby counter nervously and hold my hand up to wave. If he's Gary's son, I never thought I'd be meeting him like this. I hope it's not too awkward.

  Only one way to find out.

  “Hi, there. I'm Claire.”

  The boy turns around. His piercing blue eyes dart right through me like a bullet to the head.

  “Fucking shit,” Ty says, breaking into a princely smile.

  Fucking shit is right. I barely have time to reach out and catch myself next to my drink before I go crashing to the floor.

  II: Little Miss Perfect (Ty)

  I can't believe this chick's standing in my living room. It's living proof that there's a god in heaven, and apparently he wants me to fuck this girl right through the floor. Nothing else explains why the only woman who ever said no to me in my own club is here, looking at me like I just stepped off a UFO.

  I'm about to give her some serious shit for walking in on me like this, but her knees are shaking. I know a woman who's fainting when I see her. Our poor housekeeper, Joan, used to have the same damned problem before she got her insulin under control.

  I rush over just in time before she crashes on Dad's Turkish rug. I gotta suppress a smile as I catch her. She feels too fucking good against my almost naked body. Obviously, I don't wanna upset Little Miss Perfect anymore while she's reeling, but fuck, I've already done that just by standing here.

  She's comatose in my arms. Not exactly how I wanted to feel those sweet curves against me again, but what-the-hell-ever. I reach for the mineral water next to her, unscrew the cap, and splash it right in her face.

  That wakes her up.

  “What the hell do you think you're doing?!” She screams, batting me away.

  When I'm sure she's able to stand on her own two feet again, I let go, and give her the space she's flipping her shit over. “Making sure you don't bruise your pretty face on the damned floor. It's harder than it looks, even with the rugs. Trust me, I've slipped on my ass here before.”

  Watching her face, it's like a fuse in slow burn. When it hits the charge, I see the explosion in her eyes, the horrible realization about who I am and why I'm standing in front of her.

  Believe me, it's a disaster for my sorry ass too. I knew dad remarried some former Congress queen, and I'm supposed to meet the new family soon. I knew the woman had a daughter.

  But I didn't expect it to be this delectable piece of ass that got away from me last night. Having a step-sister this hot introduces me to some sick torture I'm just starting to comprehend.

  Fuck me. Maybe it's not a miracle she's in my ho
use after all. Maybe it's a devil's curse – Old Scratch come to collect my karmic debt for all the girls I've fucked and walked away from.

  “Sterner. Sterner.” She repeats my last name over and over, stretching a hand across her face like her skin's boiling. “Jesus Christ. How could I be so stupid? Why didn't I put it together until now?”

  I smile, shrug, and mimic her gesture. There's still a lotta sweat dripping all over me after my workout downstairs. Training always leaves me beat and damp when I do it right, and this chick's the reason I hit it extra fucking hard this evening.

  “Why the fuck didn't you tell me your name last night? I was trying to help, you know. We could've avoided this embarrassment.”

  “You were trying to fuck me!” she screams, getting up in my face.

  Those sweet tits beneath her shirt plump up and bounce real nice. She looks good enough to slam against the wall and devour with my hands, my mouth, my dick, no matter what she's wearing. And that's rare, especially when I've been on a strict diet of club girls who just wanna suck me off because I'm hung and rich.

  And in the cold light of day, some of those chicks are a lot less fuckable.

  Not the one in front of me, cursing my name, though. It's not even possible. She's hot twenty-four-seven, morning or night, rain or shine. My dick twitches, thinking about all the shit it wants to do to her in all those conditions.

  Claire. I burn her name into my memory, wondering why the hell it's landed in my lap when I tried so hard to squeeze it outta her at the club.

  She's shaking her chestnut hair, blinking those big brown eyes to match, the same way I've seen her do like ten times by now. “I can't believe this.”

  I step up and extend a hand, trying to give her a proper handshake. She slowly takes it and looks sick, but of course I'm not gonna let her off that easy.

  “I know, babe. I can't believe we're never gonna fuck. Somebody's got a sick sense of humor to bring our parents together. That's for damned sure. Can you believe your new step-brother's a badass motherfucker, Sis?” I flex my muscles and rub myself against her.

  She jumps back like I'm on fire. I can't help but laugh. Humor's all I've got to take the crazy fucking edge off – not that it helps much when I feel how hard her nipples are.