Cocked: A Stepbrother Romance (28 page)

“You’ll get used to it.”

“I never thought I’d have to again. But you know what? I’m really happy I’m home.”

“That’s better! No more Debbie Downer.”

I laughed just as the front door opened. “Cora?” my dad’s voice called out.

“Kitchen,” she said.

I stood up as my dad came into the room.

“Hey, Dad,” I said.

He smiled huge. “Becca. How was your trip?”

I walked across the room and he wrapped me in a huge hug. In that moment, all of my stress about not being home enough melted away.

My dad was a tall man. He was six foot four and had a thick, bushy beard. His eyes were a bright blue color, almost the opposite of Reid’s paler blue. The two of them were the same height, though Reid didn’t have a beard.

My father was a typical outdoorsman. He loved to hunt and fish and build things. He had a machine shop in a small building out in the backyard where he liked to work on old cars. He was a manager at the local paper mill, but he was known as one of the best engineers in the whole town.

But he was a tough man. He was fast to love but long to hold a grudge. Anger came like second nature to him.

“The trip was okay, Dad,” I said, pulling away from the hug.

He took off his hat and jacket. “Feels like you haven’t been here in ages.”

“Only a year.”

“What’s for dinner?” he asked Cora, kissing her cheek.

“Chicken and baked potatoes,” she said.

“Sounds great.”

He sat down at the kitchen table and I joined him. “How was work?”

“Long and hard. The usual.”

“Cora told me about the layoffs.”

He scoffed. “It’s the same all over the country. We’ve survived this long, and we’ll keep on surviving.”

I smiled. “That’s good to hear. Build anything fun lately?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I have.” He proceeded to explain a machine that helped dry out shoes by spinning around at high speeds. “It doesn’t really work,” he said finally, grinning.

“You’ll have to show me.”

“No,” Cora said sternly. “That thing is going to murder someone someday.”

He waved her off. “She’s a little nervous because I broke a window last week.”

“Dad!” I said, laughing.

He shrugged. “Got out of control a little bit. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” Cora said. “You flung a work boot at thirty miles an hour!”

I nearly doubled over with laughter, imagining my dad frantically trying to stop an out-of-control shoe rack.

“She’s exaggerating,” he mumbled.

We talked like that for another half hour until dinner was ready. Dad disappeared to get changed while I set the table. Reid was supposed to be back, but he was nowhere in sight and hadn’t bothered to take his cell phone with him.

“That kid,” Cora said, shaking her head. “One day he’ll get lost out there.”

As soon as Dad got back and we sat down to eat without Reid, the door opened.

“Sorry I’m late,” he called out.

“Your mother cooked all this. You can at least be on time,” Dad said to him sternly as he walked into the room.

Reid grinned at him. “Sorry, Jack. I didn’t realize you were gracing us with your presence.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

He sat down at the table next to me. “Smells great, Mom.”

“Thanks. Dig in everyone.”

We tucked into the food in silence for a minute, savoring Cora’s cooking. It felt weird having a family dinner. Back when she was sick, during the few times I could visit, we never sat down to eat together, mainly because her appetite was so bad.

“Find your way back okay earlier?” Reid asked me.

“Yeah, no thanks to you. Where’d you go?”

“Just some stuff to take care of.”

“I hope that stuff wasn’t risking your life on a wet cliff face,” Cora said.

He grinned. “Climbing isn’t risking my life. It’s like walking up a hill for me.”

“Do people still call you ‘Climber’?” I asked him.

“Some do around here, yeah.”

“He’s being modest,” Cora cut in. “Everyone still calls him that.”

“I’d rather they called him something else. Maybe like ‘gainfully employed,’” Dad grumbled.

Reid ignored him. “Some habits die hard, I guess.”

“Habits? Don’t you hold like ten regional records?” I asked.

He nodded. “Twelve actually.”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot you were a big shot.”

“Feeling intimidated?”

“Only a little bit.”

“Don’t worry, college girl. You’re not so bad yourself.”

We finished up the meal quickly after that comment. My dad announced that he was tired, although he took the time to finish an entire chicken on his own. After the dishes, I found myself sitting out on the back porch, listening to the rain fall on the roof.

After a minute, Reid walked out. “Nice out here,” he said.

“Yeah. I missed this porch.”

He sat down on a chair across from me and sipped a beer.

“You look good,” he said.

“Uh, thanks.”

“College agrees with you.”

I ignored that. “Where did you go earlier, for real?”

“For real. I didn’t go anywhere special.”

“Really, not going to tell me?”

“Really. But I’d love to talk about anything else. Like maybe how you keep staring at me.”

I quickly looked away, realizing he was right. I couldn’t tear my eyes from him. The way his shirt clung to his body was undeniably sexy, and I kept imagining how it felt when he had kissed me.

It was always like that when I was around him. No matter how hard I tried, I always ended up wanting to tear his clothes off. Or maybe I wanted him to pin me up against the couch and have his way with me.

Either would have been fine, actually.

“I’m not staring, asshole.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind being eye candy for you.”

“You really haven’t changed.”

“You have. There’s something new about you.”

“What?” I couldn’t help but ask.

He narrowed his eyes. “Becca . . . did you finally kiss a boy?”

I rolled my eyes. “Nope. Still a prude.”

“I think that’s a lie. Did you go a little wild your last semester?”

I laughed. If only he knew how incredibly wrong that was. In fact, I had done almost nothing but study. Sure, I had been with a few guys at school, but not like he was thinking.

“You caught me. I was the school slut.”

He nodded. “I thought so. You carry it well.”

I rolled my eyes. “Is this how it’s going to be all summer?”

He stood up, taking a swill of his beer, and walked over toward me.

“You know how it is, Becca.”

“How’s that?” I asked softly.

His gaze was intense. “If you want to know, you can find me any time.”

He walked off without another word. His voice lingered in the space between us, heat rushing up my spine, sending shivers down my legs. I realized I was dripping wet already.

I shook my head. It was going to be a rough summer.

And now, keep reading for the full text of Jerked, the steamy bestselling stepbrother romance!

I
looked up at the old brick façade and the black wrought iron detailing around the front stoop and couldn’t believe I was back.

The cab pulled off, back out into traffic, before I had the chance to change my mind, hop back in, and head anywhere but home. I cursed my rotten luck and looked around. The old neighborhood looked the same: old brick Philly row homes, but clean and orderly—one of the richer south Philly neighborhoods.

Briefly, I wondered how many crimes had been committed in the halls of the houses that I could see. I wondered how many crimes had been committed in my own house.

Probably a lot.

With a sigh, I lugged my over-filled suitcase up the stoop and stood in front of the door. Did I have to ring the bell and knock, or could I just walk right in? That was a weird thought; it was my childhood home, after all, though I hadn’t been back in years. I opted for informal, grabbed the front door knob, and pulled it open.

I could feel that my back was covered in sweat already as the air conditioning hit me hard. I must have looked like a mess. It wasn’t a long trip from New York, but it felt like it had taken ages. I hated riding the train, but there were no other good ways to travel. Plus, I had left in kind of a hurry.

It wasn’t good to be home. Far from it, actually. I hadn’t exactly left on friendly terms, and my relationship with Daddy dearest had been strained at best ever since. We spoke a few times a year on the phone, but that was about it. Pleasantries, the bare minimum of small talk, and then nothing for months at a time.

Still, it was a nice trip down memory lane as I walked into the familiar foyer. Pictures of myself as a kid, smiling into the camera, my mom smiling up by my side, my dad with his typical mean mug look. I smiled softly to myself. That was back before she had passed away, before things began to take a turn, before I knew what dad did for a living. Those were the good old days.

“Hello?” I called out, and heard only my own voice echo back at me.

Typical. Of course my dad wasn’t home. He was probably too busy breaking some guy’s knees or whatever it was he did all day. Then again, I was a few hours early, so I could probably cut him a little break on that one.

With a grunt, I lugged my suitcase up the stairwell, heading for my bedroom. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but I was exhausted and alone and anyway, so what did I care? I was home; I didn’t need to be on all the time.

I looked around my nearly-empty childhood room and tossed the suitcase onto the bed. There wasn’t much left of it: everything I had cared about I had brought with me, and it looked like my dad hadn’t exactly kept it up.

I sighed. I guessed there would be plenty of time to redecorate.

My stomach grumbled as I looked around, and I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since I left New York. There wasn’t exactly enough time to have a nice meal; I hadn’t really given much thought to my escape. The only thing that mattered in that first hour or two was getting the hell out of there before things got even worse. I had been frantic as I threw things into my suitcase and ran out of my apartment, trying to get the image of what I saw out of my mind. Her blonde hair, bobbing up and down. The look on his face.

I shook my head. I couldn’t deal with those memories, not yet. Food first, emotional healing later. Maybe.

The hallway was empty as I walked quietly back toward the thin staircase that led into the kitchen. I remembered the hundreds of times I played in that space, running around and climbing down the weird staircase, which I now realized was for the servants or whatever back when the house was first built in Colonial times. I'd had a pretty good childhood, though my dad wasn’t the most attentive person in the world. But he had shielded me from the worst of the shit that went on around us, keeping me blissfully ignorant. I'd lived in my own little bubble, daughter of one of the largest Irish Mob bosses in the entire city, the Mob Princess. I remembered all the men that came in and out of the house, and how kind they were to me. At the time, I had thought I was special. Now I realized they were just trying to suck up to my dad.

As I neared the back staircase, I heard a creak, and the door to the bathroom pushed open. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Warm, steam-filled air rolled out as a body stepped into the hall. I practically shrieked, surprised as hell, as this damp, gorgeous torso appeared in the doorway. I gaped at him, not sure why some random guy was coming out of my shower. He was ripped like crazy, all muscles and perfectly toned abs, and all he was wearing was a thin white towel wrapped around his waist. I could see the outline of every one of his muscles glistening from the water from his shower. My heart started hammering in my chest as I ran my gaze along him.

“Shit, sorry,” I stammered as my eyes ran up his body and locked onto his face.

And that’s when I got the real shock.

“Hey Bren,” he said, grinning.

I couldn’t believe it. I recognized the voice, but it hardly matched up with my memories. We hadn’t seen each other in years, not since that time just before I left for college. Which, actually, was another thing I didn’t want to think about—one of many. But he had gotten taller, fuller, even better looking if that was possible. The only guy to ever turn me down, the cocky asshole that was always around our house when I was in high school, my pseudo-stepbrother, Colin Blake.

“Colin. Wow. You’ve uh ... grown up.”

I felt myself blush. Seriously? What was I even saying?

He laughed. “Yeah, you too. Last time I saw you, you were headed out to college, all fresh-faced and ready to take on the big city.”

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “Right now, I’m talking to you, and it looks like you’re trying not to stare at my nakedness.”

I forced myself not to blush any more. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“You’re not surprised anymore.”

“Who just walks around in a towel, anyway?”

“People who take showers. And you’re early.”

“I didn’t hear you in the shower.”