Cocked: A Stepbrother Romance (27 page)

The rain had slowed down to barely a drizzle as we moved back out onto the property. There was a path that wound its way between the trees and circled the woods, skirting the thin metal fence Jack had put up years ago to discourage bears from wandering into our backyard.

“Looks the same,” Becca said.

I downed my beer, crushed the can, and slipped it into my pocket. “Yeah. Not much changes around here.”

“I’ve only been gone a year this time.”

I nodded. “How was school?”

She shrugged. “Fine.”

“Ace all your exams? Actually, what am I saying, of course you did.”

“I did fine,” she said, giving me a look.

I grinned at her. “Come on, college girl, we all know you’re a little genius.”

“Starting that already?”

“Can’t help myself. You’re too damn easy to rile up.”

She sighed and looked ahead. I watched as the rain damped down her hair slightly, and I loved the way she reached up to stroke it back out of her face.

All at once, the memory in the van came rushing back. It was one year ago almost exactly, but it felt completely fresh, like it had happened a day ago.

She swiped the wet hair from her eyes and laughed. We were cramped together in the back of my van, and she was looking around like it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen.

“This is crazy. I can’t believe you put this together.”

“Took a while. But you know how it is out here. There’s lots of time.”

“Lots of time for people that don’t work.”

I laughed. “You know I work. My job just isn’t a nine to five.”

“How is the climbing, anyway?”

I shrugged. I hated lying to her, hated lying to everyone, but I had to keep my story straight. “Got a competition coming up over near Seattle.”

“Far away,” she commented absently, looking at the books.

I shifted myself, moving closer to her. There was enough room for two people to lay comfortably with space to spare, but the damp air had brought a chill and it felt better to sit closer.

“I go where the money is.”

“Decent books.” She took one out and looked at the spine.

“Surprised that I can read?”

She shook her head. “Surprised that you like to read Jonathan Franzen.”

I snatched my copy of Freedom from her hands and tossed it across the car. “He’s fine. The self-sufficiency thing works for me.”

She laughed. “You’re basically a wild man.”

“That’s what the ladies tell me.”

“Good one.”

I moved closer to her. “You’re actually the first person I’ve showed this to.”

“Why? I mean, why me?”

“You know why. We’ve been doing this for way too long.”

“Reid.” Her lips parted slightly as I reached up and took her chin in my hand.

“You know what I want.”

“I’m afraid.”

“I’m not.”

I pressed my lips against hers. She kissed me back, and for a few seconds the world was right.

Until she pulled away. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t do this.” Avoiding eye contact, she pushed her way out of the van.

“Becca, wait,” I called out.

I ran to catch up with her. I didn’t want her to get lost on the way back.

We didn’t talk the whole way home.

That hadn’t been our first kiss. But it was the most recent, and it was the one that made it clear what she wanted.

“Woodpecker,” she said.

I followed her gaze, back in the present. “Oh yeah. Big one, too.”

“Your mom really does look awesome, by the way.”

“Thanks. She fucked cancer up.”

Becca laughed. “Really, she’s amazing. I think I would have just rolled over and died, but not her.”

“I doubt that. But you’re right, she is amazing.”

We walked in silence for a few steps. “How’s it feel to be home?” I asked.

“Good, I guess. Feels weird that I’ll be here for longer than a week or two.”

I nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you occupied.”

“Oh yeah? And how will you do that?”

“Splitting wood. Scrubbing floors. I’ll put you to work.”

She laughed. “I forgot we lived in colonial times.”

“It’s Ridgewood. We haven’t evolved much since then.”

“So while I’m cleaning, you’ll be out hunting?”

I nodded. “Killing bears with my bare hands.”

“Oh wow. So strong.”

“Damn right. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

“I forgot about that. Everyone knows you’re a famous bear killer.”

We laughed together and I took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air. The rain had slowly let up and Becca let her hood fall back.

Up ahead I saw the fence leaning up against a tree, the wires bent slightly where I’d been pushing them out of the way. I paused there.

“What?” Becca asked.

“I actually have some shit to do,” I said. “I’m going to leave you here.”

She frowned. “Where are you going?”

“It’s nothing, just meeting some guys. You know the way back?”

“I grew up around here, you know.”

“Good. Don’t get lost, college girl.”

“Have fun doing whatever.”

“I will. See you around.”

She gave me a look like she was hurt that I was leaving her.

I wanted to tell her the truth, wished I could, but I knew that would be the end of everything. I had to keep my secrets.

It’s almost over,
I reminded myself.

She turned and walked back down the path as I moved through the fence. I watched her walk away for a minute, admiring her firm ass. I wished I could take her back farther into the forest and fuck her up against a tree, rough and hard.

Instead, I walked off, heading north toward the van, nervous excitement running through my veins.

A
s I unzipped my suitcase, my hair drying for the second time that day, I couldn’t help but wonder where Reid was going. It wasn’t like him to just disappear on a hike like that. Yeah, he could be mysterious, but that was a little rude.

I guess I couldn’t blame him. Not after what happened the last time I had seen him.

There wasn’t a single day that went by when I didn’t think about that kiss. It wasn’t our first, but it was the most dangerous one. We were stepsiblings, our parents were married, we couldn’t be kissing in a van out in the middle of the woods. It was wrong.

And it was even worse because I’d wanted it. When his lips touched mine, fire ran down my spine. I’d felt like I was going to burn up with how badly I needed him. My pussy was soaked through the second our skin made contact, and I had known that if I didn’t get out of there right away, then I’d do something I might regret.

I sighed, pulling clothes out and sliding them into drawers. I fantasized about that almost every day, about losing control around him. It was scary but exciting. I loved to picture his strong hands grasping my hips, the calluses on the ends of his fingers rubbing softly against my clit, sending waves of pleasure through my spine.

But that was all I wanted. He was such a jerk most of the time.

Instead of thinking about his body back then, I distracted myself with schoolwork. I drowned my desires in distractions, because what I desired most was the one thing I wasn’t supposed to have.

I looked around my old childhood bedroom and smiled softly. My dad and Cora hadn’t changed a thing about it, which was both great and a little sad. Old Alanis Morissette posters were still hanging on the walls, and although I knew I should take them down, there was something nostalgic and hilarious about their stupid ’90s looks.

I finished putting away my things and climbed into bed. For some reason, I couldn’t stop worrying about Reid. Sure, he seemed pretty good, at least physically. He looked like he was in the best shape of his life, which was a little more than distracting.

But it was the way he alternated between his usual cocky, teasing self and something else, something a little darker. Ever since Cora had been diagnosed with cancer, something inside him had been changing. It seemed like it had only gotten worse.

I sat up in bed and shook my head. I had barely been home for two hours and I was already obsessing about Reid and his moods. Anyway, he was a busy and successful mountain climber. What did it matter what I thought?

I got up and walked downstairs, skipping the creaky step, and walked into the kitchen. Cora was busy chopping onions, tears rolling freely down her face.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s so sad?”

She looked up and smiled. “It’s these stupid onions.”

“I usually stop when I start crying.”

“No use in stopping. I just chop right through it.”

I sat down at the table, laughing, and Cora laughed along with me.

“You look pretty insane.”

“I know, dear. I can’t help it. Watch out, crazy lady with a knife!”

I laughed again. Cora finished chopping and put the onions in a pot.

“So when’s Dad getting home?” I asked.

“Soon. He called my cell not long ago. He’ll make it in time for dinner.”

I nodded. “Okay. Good.”

“Where did Reid go off to?”

“Don’t ask me. It’s not like he tells me anything.”

She shook her head. “He’s been disappearing more and more often lately.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Just walks off into the woods without a second thought.” She paused, frowning. “Sometimes he’s gone for days.”

I looked at her, surprised. Reid was disappearing for days at a time? He had always been independent and strong-willed, but it wasn’t like him to go somewhere without at least telling Cora about it.

“Do you know where he’s going?”

“He says climbing competitions or festivals. Sometimes he’s doing guide work.” She paused. “But I don’t know.”

“Is everything okay?”

She looked up and smiled. “Absolutely. I’m just being stupid. Reid has been stuck here taking care of me for the past few years. It’s not surprising that he wants to do stuff on his own now that I’m doing better.”

I nodded. That made a lot of sense, but still. Cora was obviously worried, and I didn’t blame her. I had barely been around him and yet even I could sense that there was something happening with him.

“Really, how have you been?” I asked her.

“Great. Honestly, I’ve never felt better.”

“I’m so proud of you. I mean, everything that happened. You’re pretty amazing.”

She smiled. “That means a lot.”

“And you know . . .” I trailed off and paused, feeling awkward. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around more. When you were sick.”

She waived her hand, dismissing my concern. “Listen, kid. I know you would have come home in a heartbeat if any of us had asked. But I would have hated myself if you had squandered that opportunity because of me.”

“I know. But still. I should have been here, to help.”

She walked over and sat down in the chair across from me.

“Listen, Becca. I had more than enough help. I dragged down your father and Reid. I didn’t need to drag you down too.”

“You’re not a drag.”

“I know. But I am, no matter how awful that sounds. You’re here now, and I am too. That’s what matters.” She smiled softly. “Plus, I wouldn’t have let you come home anyway.”

I smiled, trying to ward off the tears. Cora was like that, always so positive and kind and caring. In the beginning, when she had been diagnosed, I came home right away. I totally planned on staying home and never going back, but Cora showed up one morning a few days later with a plane ticket and yelled at me until I packed.

That’s the kind of person she is. She knew what was going to happen, what the next few months or years were going to be like, and she knew that I didn’t need to go through it with them. And I visited as often as I could, but it was hard. Flying was expensive, and I was already on a tight budget, working to pay for school.

But part of me was angry with myself for giving in. Truthfully, I’d wanted to be at Dartmouth. It had been my dream. And thankfully Cora had beaten her cancer. But I wasn’t sure that I could have really ever forgiven myself if she hadn’t.

“How are things at the mill?” I asked, changing the subject.

She got up and busied herself with dinner again. “Oh you know, the usual. Management is squeezing hours as hard as they can, and the unions are pressing back. Things are hard all over.”

“How’s Dad handling it?”

“As well as he can. He’s been picking up extra shifts lately, whenever they’re around.”   

“He sounded stressed on the phone a few days ago.”

“You know him. There’s always some disaster inches away.”

I laughed. My father was a good man, as far as I could tell, but he was also a paranoid one. Our garage was full of stored water and canned goods, just in case some emergency happened. He wasn’t a full-on doomsday guy, building bunkers and storing long-term food, but he did believe in being prepared.

He grew up in Ridgewood like his parents before him. The mill and the woods were the things he knew best, and he tried his best to pass some of that stuff down to me. I could light a fire and do some hunting, but I’d never be able to survive out there on my own. It just never took the way it did for him.

He never made me feel guilty, though. That was just his way.

“So, tell me more about this graduate school program,” Cora said.

“It’s at the University of Texas. I go back in the fall.”

“Are you excited?”

“Very excited. Also nervous. It’s a pretty intimidating program.”

She smiled. “You’re an intimidating girl yourself, Becca. You’ll do great.”

“I feel bad though, moving far away again.”

“Not your fault. We don’t exactly have any prestigious universities here in Ridgewood.”

“Still, I wish I could stay for more than just a summer.”

“You’re doing the right thing. Don’t let yourself worry so much.”

I knew she was right. It wasn’t my fault that Texas was the only place to take me. I just hated that I was the kind of person who left their family and never came back.

“Okay, enough moping,” she said, laughing at me. “What’s with you today?”

“I guess it’s the rain. You know it doesn’t rain all the time anywhere else, right?”