Stepping Over the Line: A Stepbrother Novel (Shamed) (4 page)

If only I could so easily erase my memory of Garrett cradling that darling infant that day on the beach. If only I could know he’d make a lousy parent or husband. Unfortunately, deep down, I suspected just the opposite would be true.

Someday, some lucky lady would win Garrett’s heart.

Sadly, because our carefully structured social world saw us as brother and sister, that woman would never be me.

Snatches of the conversation between Savannah and her mom floated to me from the upstairs hall.

…This baby could have come at a more convenient time.

…
I’ll come for visits, and so will Chad’s mom.

Now that there was a reason for the hasty nuptials, I understood.

My mind flashed on our lone time together. The fact that we hadn’t used protection.

Could the baby be mine?
Christ
…

I swiped my hands through my hair and paced. I mean, sure, anything was possible. But Savannah was a fucking doctor. If anyone knew whose baby she was having, it would be her.

With my blessing, my childhood room had been transformed into a nondescript guest repository. Magnolia wallpaper, roomy four-poster bed, and enough lace to knot into a decent-length rope to restrain a Constance-
du jour
to the bed.

I now paced the, no-doubt, pricey Persian rug.

I didn’t want to be here.

I was a fraud. Attending parties and toasting the happy couple when all I really wanted was to toss my stepsister caveman-style over my shoulder and carry her off into the great beyond. I had money. We could escape. Hell, if she wanted, I’d even take her to some godforsaken third world country where she could save the locals from diphtheria and malaria and whatever
-ia
that needed curing.

For her, for
us,
I’d give up everything.

And because of that realization, in that moment, I knew it was time to not only regroup, but get my priorities in order. There was no us—would
never
be.

The sooner I got that through my apparently thick skull, the better.

Twenty minutes later, I stood in front of the main kitchen’s fridge, eating cottage cheese straight from the container when Savannah wandered in.

“Excuse me.” She nudged me aside and took a Sprite from the side door.

I wished the sweep of her forearm against mine didn’t bring our night roaring back. The brush of her lips against my neck, the curtain of her hair. The floating sensation of being so deep inside her that I’d finally found home. In a ridiculous attempt to banish the memory of her tequila taste, I took another bite of cottage cheese, then retreated to a barstool at the kitchen’s center island.

Without saying a word, she opened her beverage, chugged, then closed the fridge door and left the room.

I should have let her go, but couldn’t.

“Congrats on the baby.”
Is it mine?

She froze. “How do you know?”

“The upstairs walls are thin. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Whatever.”

“I have to ask…”

“No. The baby’s not yours.”
She’d thought about it, too?

“How do you know?” My mouth went dry. The mere thought of us sharing a child stole all strength from my grip. I dropped the spoon into the plastic tub I’d been eating from.

“I know, okay?”

“Well, sure. You’re a doctor, but
how
do you know? Is there some special test?”

She sighed before drinking more of her Sprite. “Yes.”

Damn.
I’d seen enough
Jerry Springer
during college to know she must have tested Chad’s DNA against the baby’s. I thought the kid had to be further along to definitively tell that sort of thing, but hell, I was hardly an expert. If she told me the baby wasn’t mine, I believed her. She wouldn’t lie—not about something this important.

She started walking, but I asked, “Do you love him?”

“Chad?”

“No—Santa.”

“Please, don’t be a smart-ass, Garrett—not this morning. Usually, I can give as good as I get, but…” She turned to me. Her faint, sad smile through silent tears had me abandoning my cottage cheese to wrap her in a hug.

Above all, she was family.

Sure, we’d had our drunken five-minute fling, but that was over and now, reality had to rear its ugly-ass head. As this beautiful, smart, funny, sexy woman’s big
brother,
it was my duty to ensure she never cried.

I held her tight, stroking her long hair. She felt so good—incredible. It took superhuman strength to not get wood. “Tell me what’s going on. It can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not…” She melted against me, and I rested my head atop hers, holding her, rocking her. “I’m just always so sick, and Mom’s taking the wedding to a freak show, circus-level I never wanted it to be. I need to set up our Boston apartment, but there’s no time. The residency I’ve literally spent my entire life preparing for is barreling toward me, yet instead of being excited about it, I’m living in dread and fear. It would be hard enough under normal circumstances, but now…”

“Shh…” I smoothed back her hair the way I had when she didn’t make cheerleading her sophomore year of high school. “You’re going to be a great mom. If you and Chad are as tight as you seem, everything’s going to work out fine. Hell, I’ll even help. I never thought of myself as an uncle, but I’ll have this kid sipping the best aged scotch from his bottle.”

“Stop! You’re horrible.” She shoved me away, but then pulled me back. “I love you. Thank you for always being such a great big brother.”

“You’re welcome. Love you, too.” Her words killed me.
Our
words. How many years had we performed this routine? The one where neither of us acknowledged the part where that love we professed on Christmas and birthdays had infinite layers. Familial love, friendly love, and then there was the kind of dark-hot-sexy-velvety-dirty love that by mutual consent we’d shoved so far back into the corners of each of our closets that it was never to be taken out again.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss Chad. My trip down memory lane had left me feeling horrible. Unfaithful and unworthy of Chad’s love. At that moment, I vowed to do better by him. I would eradicate all thoughts of Garrett from my mind to focus on the future Chad and I shared. Odds were, the baby wasn’t my stepbrother’s, so I had no cause to worry aside from the challenge of raising a newborn while completing my residency. “You’re not looking too shabby yourself.” He wore a tux, and I’d squeezed my already enormous boobs into a floaty red cocktail dress I hadn’t worn since the holidays two years earlier. Mom had wanted to take me shopping, but what was the point of buying a new dress, when I’d outgrow it in weeks?

“How was golf?” Though we’d just dressed for the evening together, there hadn’t been time to talk. He took my hand for the trip down the circular stairs.

“Good. Dickey won.”

I smiled. “Daddy always wins.”

“That’s funny…” Midway down the stairs, Chad knelt in front of me and kissed the spot where my baby bump was already growing. “From my perspective, I’m the winner.”

I cupped my hands to his head, trying not to cry—not because I didn’t desperately need the release, but because I didn’t have time to redo my makeup.

I love this man,
I told myself.
We’re going to have a wonderful life.

So why, when I closed my eyes, did my mind’s eye envision Garrett? Laughing Garrett, asshat Garrett, Garrett leaning in for a kiss…All of those images were wrong—by-products of haywire pregnancy hormones. Chad and I were the perfect couple. We’d breeze through our residencies, join thriving practices, and become the sort of power couple who co-chaired hospital fund-raisers and art galas. But what then? Would any of it have meaning? Given enough time, would my fascination with my stepbrother fade?

Chad stood, nuzzling my neck. “I’ve got the perfect name for our bambino.”

“Yeah? Let’s hear it.” We’d played through this scenario before.

“Obviously, Chadwick, for a boy, and…” Careful not to muss my makeup, he nibbled my earlobe.

“Let me guess—Chadellina if it’s a girl?”

He feigned shock. “How did you guess?”

Not caring about my lipstick, I kissed him. Not because I was particularly fond of his name choices for our child, but because he was sweet and funny and we truly would have a wonderful life. All I had to do was give myself permission to breathe. To put the baby first, my health first, Chad first, and for once in a very long time—if
ever—
I had to put my dream of becoming an amazing doctor on hold.

As for my secret thoughts of Garrett? Those were totally off the table. I would soon be a married woman and I intended to honor my vows—not only physically, but emotionally. Chad and my child deserved all of me—the best of me. Not just the part left over after I’d devoured one of Garrett’s emails or he’d surprised me with a text or call.

“I love you,” I said. “Are we going to be okay?”

“Are you kidding me?” We shared another kiss. He fixed my smeared lipstick, and said, “I love you, too. Once this whole wedding thing is behind us and we get back into our groove, we’re going to be awesome.” He took both of my hands to resume our journey down the stairs. He walked backward, ensuring my safety. “See? All safe and sound.”

“Thank you.” I squeezed his hands. “Finals week was more fun than this.”

“It’s just a party. You’ve been to hundreds. What makes this different?”

Garrett stepped out of the study.

My heart caught in my throat.

He wore a tux, but no bow tie, with his shirt open at the throat. He hadn’t shaved, hadn’t brushed his hair, and he held a cocktail tumbler with what I guessed was scotch. He was criminally handsome, yet I should be the one in jail for my wicked thoughts about what I’d like to do with him minus his tux. I closed my eyes, picturing myself pressed against him, planting openmouthed kisses up his neck, breathing him in, drowning in his achingly familiar lime and vanilla smell.

“Hey…” Chad held out his hand to shake my brother’s. “Long time, no see, man. We missed you this afternoon on the links.”

“Likewise. Sorry. Had unavoidable business.”

“Sure. I understand.” Knowing Garrett like I did, I knew he hated golf and had probably not spent his afternoon on the phone or computer, but instead sleeping off his hangover.

“There you are.” Mom drifted into the foyer on a cloud of her trademark Chanel No. 5. She’d worn it my whole life, and it served as a scented security blanket. “Dickey got a limo so we could all ride together.”

“Great,” I said. There was safety in numbers.

Daddy entered and then Chad’s parents and brother.

Though I was surrounded by loved ones, never had I felt more confused and alone. I wasn’t ready for marriage any more than I was ready to be a mom.

The back of my neck tingled. I looked behind me to catch Garrett’s stare. Our locked gazes produced a visceral pull I wasn’t equipped to handle.

He’d been my stepbrother for so long, that I didn’t know him in any other capacity—only, that was a lie. Lately, it seemed as if my body had known all along that we were pussyfooting around the issue of our attraction. I couldn’t get him out of my head. I couldn’t forget the feel of his big hands cupping my ass, pounding me—heat rose in my cheeks.

I grabbed hold of the newel post for support.

“Babe, you okay?” Chad asked.

“Perfect.” I forced a smile.

By the time congratulatory toasts were made and we had eaten from Vivian’s poolside buffet, I’d turned avoiding Garrett into a game.

I currently occupied a thick-cushioned chaise located between a potted palm and trellised bougainvillea. No one had found me for the past ten minutes, and the solitude made for my own private heaven.

I blamed my earlier downright wicked attraction for my stepbrother on pregnancy hormones, and of course, the fact that we’d even had sex in the first place had clearly been stress and alcohol-related. I wasn’t accepting any responsibility, because there was none—for either of us.

What had happened, happened.

We were two fairly young, good-looking people who had traipsed down a wrong path. End of story.

And if your baby really is Garrett’s?
my stupid, nagging conscience asked.

It’s not. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel.

And the fact that you love Garrett? Have always loved Garrett? How are you planning to explain that away?

“Did you get enough to eat?” Chad’s mom, Suzette, had somehow discovered my secure location, but since she looked genuinely concerned, I forgave her. As an added bonus, her presence forced my focus away from my stepbrother.

“Plenty,” I lied. The mere smell of barbecue sauce threatened to make me hurl.

“Good, good. Need me to bring you anything? Milk? Ice cream or pickles?” She winked, then perched on the chaise’s end. “Your mom confirmed what I’d already guessed, and doll, Chad’s father and I couldn’t be happier. You’re going to make a wonderful momma. And with our combined lineage, your little prince or princess will be southern royalty. Can you imagine if you had a son named King of the Krewe of Bacchus? I know they’ve been going with celebrities for years, but…” she leaned in to whisper, “we have
very
deep pockets, and the connections to see that our contributions make it into the right pockets.”

“Good to know,” I said, proud to keep a straight face. We didn’t even know the child’s sex, and my future mother-in-law was already planning a Mardi Gras coup?

“If you have a daughter, we’ll have to be as careful about choosing her debutante ball as her sorority. Picking wrong can have disastrous results on a girl’s future. My friend, Olivia Boatright, got bids for Chi O and a lesser house at Mississippi State that shall go unnamed. Well, she chose the lesser house—said the girls were more
real—
whatever that means, and hand to God, she married an auto mechanic and was never again seen in polite society. To this day, I don’t even have a clue of where to send her a Christmas card.”

“That’s
awful.
” I hoped I put proper emphasis on just how vexing this situation truly was without tipping my hand about the fact that I thought the debutante/sorority game was something I’d played more for my parents than for my own satisfaction—least of all because I thought it actually mattered in the grand scheme of things. “Have you seen Chad?”

“Not lately, but I’ll find him for you, sugar.”

I pushed myself up. “I can do it.”

“Nonsense. A lady should rest when in your
condition.
”

“Probably.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that medically, it was actually best for expectant mothers to get regular exercise. Regardless, I was already upright. “I promise as soon as I find Chad, I’ll sit right back down.”

“Deal.” She gifted me with a European double cheek kiss, then thankfully flounced off on a cloud of floral-scented chiffon to see and be seen.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find Chad at the buffet, or playing billiards in the pool house’s game room, or watching NASCAR at the swim-up bar. I did find Garrett seated in Vivian’s dining room, speaking what sounded like Chinese on his cell.
Wait,
he mouthed before I beat a hasty retreat.

A few minutes later, he was done, and asked, “Having a good time?”

“Sure.” But honestly? I’d be happier to see more of my fiancé and less of my stepbrother. Our night together refused to grant me a moment’s peace—kind of like those dreams I still had about showing up at a college final without having attended a single class.

“But?” His smile took my breath away. White teeth against dark stubble. Brown eyes as tempting and rich as hot fudge.

I wrinkled my nose. “What do you mean?”

“I sensed a
but
in your tone. Like you were having a good time,
but
…
”

“Oh—guess I just haven’t seen Chad in a while, and I’m kind of perturbed that he’s no doubt off with his guy pals when I’d appreciate his help in navigating this social quicksand.” I shared a fraction of Suzette’s plans for our child. “Don’t you think the baby’s health should come before college Greek life selections?”

Garrett laughed. “In a perfect world. But you forget we live in ‘the South,’ and our mothers are old school. If they knew what we’d done, they’d—”

“Shh!” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one had overheard. “You promised we’d
never
talk about that again.”

“Sorry.” He picked up his half-empty scotch. “My bad. Let’s go find your
sweetie.
”

To my everlasting horror and secret delight, he rested his arm atop my shoulders. Everything from that pleasant weight to his cologne’s faint familiar lime and vanilla scent made me crave him. He was the cake with too many calories. The car that drove too fast. The designer purse that cost double my monthly budget. He represented every sinful longing I’d ever had, and it had to stop. I was not only on the verge of marrying another man, but also carrying that man’s baby.

“Thanks, but I’ll find Chad on my own.” I refused to be this awful, duplicitous tramp anymore, and shrugged out from under his light hold.

“Suit yourself. But seeing how I have nothing better to do, I might as well tag along.”

I sighed.

Together, we searched Vivian’s house from the formal living room to the kitchen to the wine cellar, but Chad was nowhere to be found. One of his frat brothers said he’d seen him talking to Daddy on the front porch, so we headed in that direction only to find the eight white wicker rockers unoccupied.

We were just about to head back inside when Garrett froze. “What’s that?”

“I don’t hear anything.”

He grinned, then pointed toward our limo. The tail end just happened to be bouncing up and down. “Who do you suppose snuck off for a little adult entertainment?”

“You don’t think?” I raised my hands to my mouth. Of course he was right, but I didn’t want to catch a glimpse of the lucky couple actually enjoying the stodgy event.

“Come on…” Before I could protest, he took my hand, dragging me across the lawn. “The back window’s cracked. Let’s sneak up on them. My money’s on Constance. Trust me, that girl gets around.” He winked.

“Garrett, you’re awful! She’s a nice girl.”

“Especially, if your idea of nice includes a woman who can do the splits in two directions.”

I smacked his arm.

He laughed.

Why was I more pissed about the thought of him having been with another woman than I was by his crude assessment of one of my best friends? How long would it take me to finally be over him?

We reached the limo and sure enough, a variety of not-so-subtle sexy-time noises drifted through the partially open window and sunroof.

Oh, oh…Yes!

You like that, baby? I’m gonna fuck you into the next county…

“He’s a dirty boy,” Garrett teased.

That voice…I might have physically stilled, but my heart took off at a gallop.
Are you kidding me?
No. No way would my sweet Chad—the father of my baby, the man I was about to marry, be screwing some tramp in the back of
my
limo!

I yanked open the door to discover not only my fiancé’s bare ass pumping up and down, but also his dick apparently plunging in and out of Constance. I hated Garrett for dragging me over here to see this. Even more, I hated myself for not having known. For never in a million years even remotely suspecting these two people I loved could be capable of betraying me in such an unspeakable manner.

“Get out!” I raged. “How dare you?”

“Oh, shit…” Chad yanked up his slacks while Constance pulled down the sundress that had been around her neck. “Baby, this isn’t what it looks like. I love you.”

“You just said you love me!” Constance slapped him.

The darkness marring Garrett’s handsome features frightened me. He grabbed Chad by the back of his starched button-down, yanking him from the car. “You dirty, sonofabitch!”

“Calm down, man.” Out of the limo, with his pants up, but unbuttoned and with his fly still down, he held up his hands, only to then sucker punch Garrett’s left jaw.