Stepbrother Bastard (5 page)

“
Oh.
You
’
re
not, uh, serving anymore?
”
I ask haltingly, trying to keep up with
the pace of his drinking out of nervousness. I
’
ve
never actually known anyone in the armed forces, at least not well. Both sides
of my family have always tended toward artistic and academic pursuits, not
exactly compatible with military service.

“
No,
I
’
m
not,
”
Cash tells me, flagging
Jimmy down again and signaling for another round. I hurry and drain my glass,
wondering at the speed with which he changes the subject. Maybe his military
record has something to do with that gravity in his gaze.

“
And
what about you?
”
he asks as Jimmy refills our glasses,
“
What
’
s
your story?
”

“
Oh.
I
’
m.
Uh. In marketing,
”
I reply vaguely. It sounds pretty
unimpressive, set next to active military service.

“
Sounds
fucking boring,
”
he laughs, instantly dashing any tension
between us
…
Negative
tension, that is. There
’
s still plenty of
another
kind of tension buzzing in the air around our bodies. I have to laugh along
with him. He
’
s not wrong.

“
I
promise it
’
s cooler than it sounds,
”
I say, palming my new
glass.
“
I
basically just throw awesome parties for rich companies and get paid for it.
”

I
notice that his body has edged a bit closer to mine. I can feel the heat coming
off his skin, radiating against me. What would it be like to feel that warmth
everywhere? To be encompassed by him. Swallowed up
…

“
That
does sound cooler. For a city girl like you, that is,
”
he grins, snapping my
attention back to the present.
“
I
’
m
not sure I
’
d be any good at it.
”

“
City
girl?!
”
I exclaim, giving him a
playful shove
…
which may or may not just be an
excuse to lay my hands on that rock hard bicep of his. My fingers come away
practically aching for more.

“
Well,
aren
’
t
you?
”
he shoots back, letting
his arm rest casually on the back of my bar stool. I can feel myself getting
more intoxicated by the second with the closeness of him. That plus the whiskey
has me feeling more awake, more engaged than I have in
…
years.
With a man, at least. And that
’
s counting the
months-long relationship I just got out of. I can barely even conjure up an
image of Paul, with this guy sitting in front of me. He
’
s
like an eclipse, blocking out everything but himself in my eyes.

“
I
mean, I
’
m
technically a city girl. Presently,
”
I smile at him,
“
I
’
ve
been living in Seattle since I finished college. But I grew up with my family
in Vermont.
”

“
A
city girl
and
a dirty hippie then,
”
Cash says, shaking his
head,
“
Man,
I sure know how to pick
‘
em.
”

“
You
’
ve
picked me, huh?
”
I reply, my voice dipping low in my chest.
“
Picked
me for what, exactly?
”

Cash
’
s
eyes flick up to meet mine before traveling down along the length of my body.
“
From
the way you
’
re talking,
”
he says, his own voice
going ragged around the edges with something that sounds a whole lot like want,
“
It
sounds like you
’
ve already got something
in mind for us.
”

“
What,
me?
”
I say with a grin,
“
I
thought I was just a sweet little girl.
”

“
I
thought so too,
”
he says, letting his fingers trail down my
arm,
“
But
I
’
m
not afraid to admit when I get it wrong.
”

A
long, charged moment unfolds between us, and my eyes flick down to his full
lips. My head is swimming with wanting to taste him, but I can
’
t
tell whether he
’
s going to kiss me or
not. Finally, the pressure gets to me, and I break away to drain the rest of my
glass.

“
How
about a couple beers?
”
I suggest.

“
Sounds
good to me,
”
Cash
says, slipping an arm around my waist.
“
Real
good.
”

Cash
and I go on talking into the night, letting our conversation wander wherever it
likes. He tells me about the motorcycle repair shop he owns nearby, the boxing
gym he frequents in his free time, his love of MMA and UFC. I, in turn, tell
him more about the outrageous events I
’
ve
produced for work, my love of good coffee and literature, my inextinguishable
hiking habit that
’
s only grown stronger
since moving to the Pacific Northwest.

We
’
re
like two old friends who haven
’
t seen each other in
years. Well, two old friends who also would quite like to jump each others
’
bones, that is. At least,
that
’
s
the vibe I
’
m getting from him. Could I be wrong?
I
’
ve
never been very good at telling whether a guy is interested in me or not. I
usually need someone
—
i.e. Allie
—
to
tell me when a dude is into me. I
’
m
just in the middle of a story about me and Allie in college when my loose
tongue gets the better of me.

“
We
were actually just hanging out earlier, me and Allie,
”
I tell Cash, my knee
brushing up against his as we commune over our beers,
“
I
swear, she
’
s like the little devil sitting on my
shoulder, except my angel always seems to be on a smoke break. She got me to
agree to the most ridiculous bet
…”

“
Oh
yeah? What
’
s the bet?
”
Cash asks, a loose brown
curl tumbling across his forehead.

I
clap both hands over my mouth, eyes going wide.
“
Oh
nooo,
”
I laugh,
“
No,
no, no. I
’
m not telling.
”

“
Come
on,
”
he presses, tugging me
just a little closer,
“
Tell me what the bet is,
Porter.
”

“
No,
no. I can
’
t,
”
I insist, busying myself
with another gulp of beer,
“
You
’
ll
think it
’
s
absolutely pathetic.
”

“
Well,
now you
have
to tell me,
”
he grins.
“
I
’
ll
be the judge whether or not it
’
s pathetic.
”

I
throw up my hands, just tipsy enough to no longer give a shit. It
’
s
not like I
’
m ever going to see this guy again
after tonight, right?

“
Fine,
”
I say, looking him square
in the eye,
“
Allie bet me that I couldn
’
t
bring myself to have one random hookup before my vacation is over.
”

Cash
stares at me.
“
That
’
s
it?
”
he asks.

“
Well,
yeah,
”
I tell him.

A
roar of laughter rises out of him,
“
How
is that something you even have to bet on?
”
he crows,
“
I
say it doesn
’
t count as a vacation until you have at
least one random hookup!
”

“
Well
ex
cuse
me,
”
I shoot back,
“
Looks
like one of us is a lot more prone to one night stands than the other.
”

“
What
’
s
wrong with one night stands?
”
Cash asks, setting his empty beer bottle
down on the bar.

“
Nothing
…
in theory,
”
I mutter, suddenly
bashful. I barely know this guy, but I already feel like there
’
s
nothing I can hide from him.

“
Wait,
wait,
”
Cash says, spinning my
bar stool around to face his.
“
You
have
had a one
night stand before, haven
’
t you?
”
His face is mere inches
from mine now, our legs interlocked between us. Between my buzz and his
proximity to me, I can barely put one word in front of another. But in the end,
I don
’
t
have to. He can read the answer on my face, plain as day.

“
You
haven
’
t
…”
he goes on, an expression
of amazement so overwhelming, that it looks painful coming across his face.

“
Got
me,
”
I smile timidly. He leans
back in his seat, just looking at me. Self-consciousness washes over me,
forcing me to avert my gaze.
“
That doesn
’
t
make me a zoo animal, so you can quit staring,
”
I mutter.

“
Sorry.
My bad,
”
he says,
“
I
just can
’
t
quite believe it.
”

“
No?
”
I reply, all stocked up
on liquid courage.
“
Why
’
s
that?
”

“
Because
you must have your pick of the litter, where guys are concerned,
”
he says simply,
“
I
mean
…
look
at you.
”

“
Well,
you would know what that
’
s like, huh?
”
I reply, so pleased by
the compliment that I don
’
t even mind blowing my
spot.

“
What,
you like what you see?
”
he grins, pretending to strike a pose for
me.

“
Obviously,
”
I laugh, resting my hand
on his knee without thinking
…
but definitely not
rushing to move it anytime soon.

“
So
we agree about one thing,
”
he murmurs contemplatively, letting his
hand fall on top of mine,
“
We each think the other
is sexy as hell.
”

“
Is
that what I said?!
”
I laugh, blushing.