Mine: A Stepbrother Romance: (With bonus novel Bossy!) (36 page)

“That sounds wonderful.” I smile a little wistfully. We both mean it, but it’ll never happen. It’s too bad. I like her a lot more than her son. She walks off, but Michael stays.

Great.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, he hisses at me. “You have some fucking nerve bringing your boyfriend here. It’s like you don’t even want to make this work. At least I’m trying.”

What? “Okay. Number one: he’s not my boyfriend. Number two:
you
picked me up in
your
car. Did you see me cram him into your trunk? Did you? And even if I did? What are you trying to make work? Us? Are you out of your mind?”

Michael sneers cruelly at me. “No, you know what? I think I’m finally seeing things clearly. You made such a big deal about that stupid whore that I actually bought it for a while. But how long have you been screwing your
stepbrother
, Claire?”

“I’m not! I didn’t! What are you talking about?”

“Yeah? So he just
happened
to be at that party? How stupid do you think I am, Claire?” His voice gets louder and a couple of heads turn in our direction. “That must be convenient. He and his father can just drop by for booty calls. Sex in the carpool lane.”

A low growl rumbles in Declan’s chest, and I feel him step up behind me. I put a hand on his leg, begging him silently to stay out of it. I’m not the only one being insulted here, and I appreciate that he’s managed to hold off getting physical as long as he has.

“Michael, people are looking.” I hate the way my voice quavers. I just want this to stop. “I’ll make Declan leave, alright. I didn’t bring him.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He takes a step closer. “Listen, Claire, I’ll give you one more chance. You messed up. I messed up. I forgive you. We can try this again.”

I blink. Forgive me? For what? Kicking his cheating ass to the curb? I knew coming today was a bad idea, but I didn’t realize just how delusional he is. What do I even say to that? “Michael—”

“No, I mean it.” He throws open his arms. “I don’t hold grudges. I love you, baby. I just want you back. I want us to be happy. You won’t have to be his slut anymore.”

Alright, that’s it. My body moves before I even think about what I’m doing. I don’t know if I’m
that
determined to show Michael that it’s over, or if there are things going on in my subconscious that I need to examine later, but I spin around and reach for Declan’s t-shirt, dragging him towards me. He’s caught off guard when I grab his hair and pull his face to mine.

My lips meet his and I tell myself this is just for Michael’s benefit. There’s no way I’ve been aching for it all week, or that I’m reliving that freezing night in February.

No way.

God, he tastes good.

H
er body practically melts against me as I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close in case she changes her mind and tries to get away. Claire might just be doing this to piss her ex off, but her motives aren’t my problem.

She started it, but I’m sure as hell going to finish it. When I slide my hand down the side of her sexy little dress to grab her ass, she fucking whimpers and the sound goes straight to my cock.

Her body feels like all I need to live, but eventually we have to come up for air. Even then she tries to follow my lips, searching for more. We want the same thing, but I tease her by staying just out of reach, tracing my fingers over the soft skin her dress exposes in the back. Sparks flare between us. I can tell she feels it too, small shivers and goosebumps breaking out even in the warm summer air.

I’m ready to dive in for another kiss when someone coughs nearby and I hear the disapproving whispers. She freezes and my hands drop away, the moment over.

Michael stares at us, rage twisting his face into an ugly mask. He’s not the only one watching, but thankfully his mother doesn’t seem to be part of our audience. I just came to have a laugh and make sure Claire was okay, not cause trouble.

Right. That’s a fucking joke.

I might as well be honest with myself. There was nothing platonic or brotherly about my decision to come here tonight, and the instant I saw her, I needed to stake my claim. She’s like a fucking addiction. I’m pulling her deeper and deeper into my veins while pretending it’s all a joke.

I look at Michael and smile coldly, reaching out and stroking the small of Claire’s back. “I think I’m the clear winner here, but I’ll give you a free tip. Next time you fuck up—and we both know there will be a next time—try not to call the woman a slut while you’re apologizing.”

Claire tears herself away from my touch with a little growl. “I—I can’t believe either of you. I’m not some prize to be won or lost.” She looks back and forth between us, her eyes shooting daggers. “By either of you.” And with that, she turns and walks away from us.

From me.

Fucking walks straight towards the front gate, hips swaying and her skirt swirling to give me tempting glimpses of her gorgeous legs.

No way, I’m not letting her run away tonight. I chase after, grabbing her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

She stops and spins around, shaking off my hand. “Home. Away from you. From him. From all of this.”

Shit, this isn’t like our play at work. If I let her walk off tonight it’s going to permanently fuck something up between us. I need to get her on her own. “You’re not going anywhere unless it’s with me.” As I speak, I feel a drop of rain against my cheek.

Great, that’s all that’s missing.

“Let it go, moron.” Claire tries to look serious, but all I can see is that her lips are still swollen from our kiss. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Yeah, that’s right. She came with me, and she’s staying with me.” Michael’s smarmy voice pulls my attention to my right, where he’s standing with his hands on his hips, flanked by curious bystanders.

“Funny, I got the feeling she didn’t come much with you at all. Keep your trap shut while the adults are talking.” I don’t have time for his shit.

“Oh yeah, you’re
so
mature. Listen, meathead, let me use small words so a dumbass like you can understand them. She. Is. Not. Yours. She’s staying with me.” Stepping forward, he grabs hold of Claire’s free arm, obviously not picking up on how deep he’s wading into her shit list.

I know I’m making an ass of myself, but something about this little creep gets under my skin like a rash. “Staying with you? Don’t make me laugh. Let her go before I level your ass.”

He sneers at me. “Fuck you, shrivel-dick. You know steroids do that, right?”

“You little shit, I’m gonna—”

Surprising me, Michael’s the one who leaps first. He goes straight for my fucking jugular, growling like a wild animal. He even lands a punch, connecting with my jaw, making my nerve endings scream in pain. It hurts, but not enough to stop me. Just enough to seriously piss me off.

I actually laugh, glad he started it, because now I can do exactly what I’ve been itching for since he came over. My fist impacts his face with a satisfying crunch, the shock of it traveling up my arm.

He tumbles backwards, sprawling into the grass. “You fucker!” He jumps back up but rubs his jaw. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Michael leaps, clawing at me like a girl. It would be hilarious if I wasn’t the one he was slapping, and it’s still pretty amusing. Wrapping my arms around him in a bear hug, I take a step back to regain my balance.

My foot finds nothing but air.

Fuck.

Everything goes in slow motion as we topple together into the pool. Water sprays up in all directions around us with a loud splash, and then we’re under, pushing away from each other. Bubbles rush past me, stirring the water so that it’s impossible to orient myself. My clothes weigh me down as I kick towards what I think is up.

I burst through the surface, drawing air into my lungs. Less than a second later, Michael follows and then we’re both treading water in the deep end.

The small group our argument drew has nothing on the crowd that shows up to gawk at the idiots in the pool. Uncle Chester starts pulling off his tie like he wants in on the fun, but some woman who’s probably his wife grabs him by the back of his shirt and hauls him away.

“Oh my God! Michael, are you alright? What’s going on?” Marie rushes down the steps from the deck.

Ignoring them all, I scan the crowd for Claire. When I find her, our eyes meet just long enough for me to see her hide a satisfied smile, then turn and walk away with determined steps. Shit.

A single stroke, and I’m at the edge, bracing my hands against it to lift myself out, water streaming off me. I can feel it running down the inside of my clothes and sloshing in my shoes. A few feet to my side, several hands are pulling Michael up while he’s still coughing and sputtering, but I have to drag myself out.

I stand, trying to ignore how my shoes squelch when Marie approaches. She doesn’t look any happier than Claire did. “I have no idea what the hell is going on here, but given the circumstances, I suggest
very
strongly that you remove yourself from our property.” Putting her fists in at her sides, she glares at me, waiting for me to move.

There’s a time for charm, and this sure as shit ain’t it.

Fine, whatever. My only reason for being here just stormed off anyway. I do feel a little bad, but it’s not like I threw the first punch or anything. Still, I doubt Marie’s interested in my excuses. “Yes, ma’am.”

I peel off my suit jacket and roll up my sleeves. Throwing the jacket over my shoulder, I walk out like I don’t give a fuck. The rain is picking up, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

“That’s right, motherfucker. And don’t you dare come back!” Michael yells after me. I give him the finger over my shoulder without looking, then go to find my car. Claire can’t have gotten far if Michael was her ride, busses are few and far between this time of night, and even a cab could take a while.

Popping the door on my Mustang, I hesitate. My car is my baby and it pains me to think of what I’m doing to my seats when I sit down. This fucked up decision of mine to screw up Claire’s date has gone from bad to worse, but after that kiss? The only thing I’d change was where I was standing when that jackass decided to go all Wrestlemania on me.

Pulling out of their driveway, it doesn’t take long before I catch sight of my target. If she’s still pissed, I’m not sure she’s going to want to see me, but one way or another she’s getting in this car and we’re going to start figuring this shit out.

T
estosterone turns the males of the human species into idiots. It’s true, I just witnessed it.

It was like watching gorillas beating their chests at each other, except I’ll give the gorillas a break because I think gorilla ladies are into that sort of thing. Me? Not so much.

The only bright spot of the whole evening was seeing the looks on their faces as they tipped right over into the pool. It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t so sad.

Ruining my night was bad enough, but between the two of them, they managed to ruin something that was important to Michael’s parents. Marie won’t want to speak with me ever again, and it bothers me that someone I respect probably thinks I’m nothing but trouble now.

Matching my mood, the skies open up.

I stop and look up, closing my eyes and letting the rain beat down on my face. I’m beyond caring that I’m getting soaked. Thunder rumbles in the distance and I start moving again. It’s a hike to the bus stop, and these heels weren’t made for walking.

A black sports car pulls up next to me and matches its pace to mine. For a second I panic, before the window slides open quietly, revealing Declan with his wet hair slicked back. “Get in the car. You’re going to get soaked.”

Knowing who it is, I don’t slow down. If anything, I speed up. “I’m already soaked. Leave me alone. There are two people right now who I don’t even want to think about, much less talk to, and you’re one of them.” Look at, maybe. Men like him should come with a warning label.
Caution: Appearances can be deceiving.

“Oh come on. He started it,” Declan says with all of the maturity of a third grader. “Get in. You’ll be dry.” He shrugs when I give him a look and then raise my dripping arms. “Well, drier.”

“No.”

A car comes down the road, hanging behind him for a short moment before honking and passing with a roar. Water sprays Declan’s car and splashes over the sidewalk as it takes off, barely missing me. I guess that’s one reason to be glad that he’s here.

Declan tries again. “Claire. Come on, get in the car. I’ll take you home.”

“I’d rather walk home in the rain than get into the car with you right now. Obviously, you don’t get how pissed I am.” I speed up, but I can’t outrun his car.

“Fine.” He stops his car suddenly.

Finally, maybe I’ll be rid of him. I tell myself I’m not disappointed he gave up so quickly.

As soon as I’m past the tip of his hood, he throws his Mustang into reverse and then guns it right over the curb to stop with a screech straight across the sidewalk. He pops his door and steps out, slamming it shut behind him. With a click, the car whoops and the lights blink as the lock engages.

“If you’re going to be that stubborn, I’ll walk you home. I don’t want you walking alone.”

“Don’t you have an ambulance to go chase or something?” The rain intensifies, adding insult to injury. “I would’ve thought the pool was enough water for one night.”

He laughs. “A few drops more or less won’t make a fucking difference at this point.” Then he falls into step next to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. For several minutes we walk in silence, getting poured on.

Sneaking glances at him through the corner of my eye, I can’t help notice how his soaked shirt clings to him. He’s like a superhero, every ridge and angle clearly outlined underneath. His dark hair’s plastered to his forehead and water runs in streams off his slightly crooked nose and his powerful jaw. I probably look like a drowned raccoon, while he looks like he just stepped out of an edgy cologne ad. Is there any time he’s not gorgeous?