Stepping Over the Line: A Stepbrother Novel (Shamed) (17 page)

Cook was too young to understand any of this mess.

As his mother, it was my duty to protect him. Garrett would have to understand.

I should have charged up the stairs to confront my stepbrother, but exhaustion wouldn’t let me. In regard to the two of us, I felt as if we’d taken a giant leap backward. Garrett had plenty of time at the warehouse to tell me about the article. But he didn’t.

And for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why.

The whole point of me being here was to declare my love for him, and express how much I longed for us to work as a team to tackle what felt like insurmountable obstacles in front of our finally shared future, but if he couldn’t even tell me about a stupid magazine that very much involved me, how would we handle the big stuff?

I heard a movement above me and looked up. Garrett leaned over the third-story rail. “Why are you still here?”

I waved the magazine. “Look familiar?”

“Imagine my surprise when my fucking parole officer presented that to me. I’m assuming your precious Ridgemonts were behind it? Who else would hire some sleaze to follow me, then have the audacity to plant the story?”

“How should I know? And how dare you be upset with them or me, when you didn’t even have the courtesy to inform me that the story existed? What if a patient had showed me? Or Mom or Dad?” I was furious with him, but also tired. Would it ever be our turn for peace? Hadn’t we already been through enough? Or would Garrett and I spend the rest of our lives karmically paying for Chad’s death? “And what makes you think the Ridgemonts had anything to do with it? Suzette and Theo would be mortified to—” I froze, then slowly covered my mouth with my hands.

“What’s wrong?”

I waved off his question to dig through my purse for my phone. I had six texts. All from Canton.

“No, no, no…” I read them aloud.

“One:
I warned you.

Two:
Ignoring me won’t make this matter go away. I gave you a chance to tell me the truth, whore, but you preferred to lie.

Three:
Does your daddy know you’re such a slut?
”

“Looks like there’s about to be another death in the family,” Garrett said.

My hands shook so badly, he took my phone. Was Canton drunk or high? This wasn’t the warm and friendly guy I’d only recently gotten to know. This man was more like the one I’d encountered after Cook’s birth.

I snatched back my phone and kept reading.

“Four:
That bastard’s lucky my brother didn’t kill him first. Call me, slut, or you’ll be sorry.

Five:
What’s the matter? I picked your most flattering pic. Maybe next time you’d prefer one of the topless ones?
”

“That’s it.” Garrett flung my phone against the nearest wall. Unfortunately, it had a soft landing against a rolled carpet.

Six:
I thought I was doing a good thing by allowing Chadwick into our kingdom, but now, I’m not so sure. Nice girls don’t take it from behind.

Garrett charged out of the house, shouting into the night, “Where are you, you fucking freak?”

“G, stop.” I grabbed hold of his arm, tugging him back inside and shutting the door behind us. My head refused to stop spinning, yet I had to make sense of this crazy development. “Let’s think about this rationally. I haven’t thought about this in years, but the morning after I delivered Cook, Canton stopped by for a visit. He told me that Chad told him he’d caught us together, and—”

“What?”
He sat on the staircase’s third step. “All along, Chad knew, yet he never said a thing?”

“I guess. But that’s not important. Sorry, but when you asked me the day Chad died if I knew whether or not the baby was yours, I lied. I mean, I assumed it was Chad’s, but there was a chance it wasn’t. That early into my pregnancy, paternity tests can be risky, so I put it off. Anyway, there I was, breast-feeding Cook just hours after he was born, when Canton came in, spewing all this crap about how he’d taken the liberty of running a paternity test, using himself as a DNA stand-in for Chad. He told me enough markers were present to prove Chad was Cook’s father, and then he congratulated me and welcomed me to the
Ridgemont Kingdom.
At the time, I just wanted Canton away from my baby, so I told him to leave. I never ran my own paternity test, because no offense, but at the time, Chad being the father was the best possible outcome.”

“Gee, thanks.” Garrett was back on his feet and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked after chasing him halfway across the front yard.

“To your house, where I plan on gathering all the materials needed to run my own goddamned paternity test.”

I’ll fucking kill Canton Ridgemont.

But first, I’ll prove Cook is my son.

My legs had turned to pudding, yet the rest of me felt light enough to fly. How many times since getting to know Cook had I wished for this very thing? The first day I’d met him, I remember noting how much he didn’t look like Chad. Now, I knew why.

Because he looked like me.

This changed everything.

Fuck Chad’s parents coming for Thanksgiving. They had no say in anything. They’d already taken my law license, and for what I’d done to their son, I was now man enough to admit it was a fair exchange. I hadn’t meant to kill Chad. All I’d wanted was for Savannah to see he wasn’t half the man for her that I could be. On that very day, had she suspected I was her baby’s father? During her pregnancy, while I’d been holed up in prison, had she cupped her hands around her pregnant belly, thinking of me each time
our
son kicked?

The thought warmed me, yet destroyed me.

If she had suspected, then how could she have named my son after a dead man? I got the whole honoring the deceased thing, but I should have had a say—in all things pertaining to my kid’s life.

I’m a dad.

A dad!

“Garrett, wait! It’s cold and you don’t even have a shirt on.”

I stopped so suddenly, she damn near ran into me. “Did you know?”

“Know what? That Canton was nuts? Of course not. I thought we were friends.”

“Don’t play dumb. I mean, did you know all along Cook is my son?” Back in prison, if I’d known Savannah was carrying my son, I would have taken my case to the Supreme Court if it meant getting out earlier to be with her and my child.

“Of course, not. G, we still don’t know—not for sure.”

“Can you honestly tell me you haven’t seen a resemblance between the two of us?”

“I see it all the time, but I thought it was my imagination. I never dared dream it could be true. Canton commissioned a paternity test. Why would he lie about the results?”

“I have no clue, but,” I started walking again toward her house, “bet you never thought he’d pay someone to snap dirty pictures of you, either, huh?”

I’d left my house in such a hurry that I didn’t bother turning anything off—lights, cordless power tool chargers, and a bunch of electronics in my room. Skeet warned me about having too much going all at once, but what was the worst that could happen? I blew another fuse? I didn’t have time to baby the house’s electricity when I was about to find out if I had an actual baby! Well, Cook was a kindergartener now, but still. This was a big deal—
huge.

Savannah had two choices—marry me and we all lived happily ever after or marry me, and we all lived happily ever after. Period. End of story. I was no longer interested in coddling the rest of the world into submission. Once I proved Cook was my son, they’d all have to deal.

We’d sit our parents down and have a rational conversation about our situation.

They’d have to understand.

If they didn’t? Damned good thing Savannah was a doctor, because she’d be on hand to administer Dad’s CPR.

As for the Ridgemonts? After the stunt they’d pulled with the tabloid and Canton’s psycho texts, as far as I was concerned, they could all go straight to hell. From day one Canton had known Cook wasn’t Chad’s son. He probably hadn’t even had a paternity test done. He’d just bullied an exhausted woman into believing what he wanted.

Ten minutes later, Savannah and I had marched through cold drizzle to walk through her front door. I anticipated the paternity test results like my prison pals used to crave early release meetings. If Savannah didn’t feel comfortable raising Cook with me in our hometown, I’d understand. We could move to California or Paris where I could buy her a never-ending supply of her signature perfume. The knowledge that Cook was my son had brought us around in a perfect circle that had taken years to complete. The gratitude swelling inside me from the certainty that we’d finally be together was surreal. Yeah, I was still pissed at Chad’s dipshit brother, but despite all his bravado, he’d given us a helluva unintentional gift. If he hadn’t spurred Savannah’s memory, there’s no telling when—if ever—we’d have learned the truth.

The mist turned into a hard rain that clattered against the sidewalk and leaves still in the trees.

“I’ll get you a towel,” she said in the entry where we’d been back together for the first time in half a decade.

“Thanks, but I’m good. Let’s just get what we need and go. My roof’s shit. It’s currently half-on, half-off. My guys probably spent more on tarps this week than shingles. According to my electrician, water combined with old wiring isn’t a good mix. Who knew, right?” I elbowed her. I was rambling. Nervous energy had me all hyped up. But hell, even if it rained all night, that’s okay. Savannah and Cook made me embarrassingly happy. If my old crew, Liam and Ella, Owen and Natalie, and Carol and Nathan, could see me now, they wouldn’t recognize the man I’d become. I now saw that I’d been a mean bastard to everyone who crossed my path. I was ashamed by how cruelly I’d treated Ella when we first met, and the next time I saw her—probably at my own wedding to Savannah—I’d apologize. I owed her that much for making Liam as happy as I’d ever seen him.

Outside, a siren wailed. The sound struck me as sad against the backdrop of rain. Someone was having a bad night, but I felt at the top of my game.

“Come on.” I took her hand, then walked straight to Cook’s room. I wanted to stay, to study all of his toys and books and favorite stuffed animals. I wanted to know every part of him like a father should. But there would be plenty of time for that once I proved he was mine.

I found a lone hair on Cook’s pillow. “Is this enough to run a test?”

She winced. “Cheek swabs are best, but his toothbrush could also be used. Hair’s best if it still has the root.”

In the bathroom, I wrapped an Incredible Hulk toothbrush and hairbrush in a towel. For added insurance, I fished used floss from a Cars-themed trash can.

The siren came closer.

“G, what’s your hurry? No lab is going to be open tonight.”

“It will be if I pay them enough.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to wait until morning? We can get a cheek swab from Cook, and have my usual lab run the test.”

“No good.” I shook my head. “Until we know for sure, I don’t want the little guy upset.”

Her expression softened. “Is this really happening?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I set my evidence on the bathroom counter to pull her into my arms. Upon landing my lips atop hers, I felt as if I’d found home. Just as it always had, her body fit against mine as if she’d been made for my pleasure. When we paused for air, I teased, “If I weren’t so antsy to find a lab, I’d make love to you right here on the bathroom floor.”

“I do have a bed, you know?” She kissed me again.

“Don’t tempt me. Hell, yes, I know, and once I’m one hundred percent sure Cook’s my son, we’ll be using that bed every single night. Come on…” I scooped up the test material, then charged down the stairs, thankful that she followed.

A fire truck screamed past the front windows.

“Wonder what’s going on?” Savannah asked.

“Nothing good. And the rain’s coming down harder. Mind driving me to my place? I need a shirt and cash.”

“Sure.” She leaned in for another lingering kiss. “I’ll get my keys.”

In that moment, I felt trapped in a dream. How could everything I’d literally spent a lifetime wishing for, suddenly manifest? If I breathed too hard, could this bubble burst? Savannah’s confession of love, Cook’s paternity—both felt fragile.

In business, I’d always been the asshole who took what I wanted. I was a plow in a dandelion-strewn field. Now, everything I’d ever wanted was right here—mine for the taking. All I had to do was grab it. But what if I reached out and like a dream, my new reality faded? What if my assumption about Cook’s paternity was wrong? What if Savannah only told me what I wanted to hear to placate me?

Moments earlier, I’d been on top of the world, but now that world felt fractured and unclear. Thin, cracked ice. Cotton candy dissolving in a hard rain. Was I being a fool to believe any of this was true?

Fear trapped me in a steel cage.

I wanted so badly for Cook to be my son and his mother to be my world that I didn’t trust myself not to somehow blow it. Like this whole thing with the lab. Where the hell was I going to find a lab open at this time of night in Julep? Maybe Jackson? Why couldn’t I take tonight to make love to Savannah and reassure her that as long as there was breath in my body, her happiness and well-being were my top priority?

“Ready?” My stepsister returned with the keys.

Was I?
Ready?
Was I a good enough man to be the father Cook needed and husband Savannah deserved? I had a perilously short fuse and got all pissy when things didn’t go my way. That had to stop.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve gotta go. Wait for me. I need a few minutes to…” To what? Hell, I didn’t even know, so how could I explain my sudden terror to her? All I knew was that she and Cook were too important for me to fuck up, and by wanting to run off half-cocked in the middle of the night to find some seedy lab desperate enough for business that it was open late for paternity testing, I was no better than Chad’s scumbag brother, Canton.

“What?” Her beautiful face read confused. “Where are you going?”

I don’t know. All I do know is that if I stay, I’m somehow going to ruin everything
.

I grasped her upper arms, pulling her in for a kiss I hoped conveyed even half of the messy shit I was feeling.

And then I walked out the door and ran into the cold rain.