A Valentine Step Read online

  A Valentine Step

  Copyright 2018 Gabriel Love

  Join Gabriel’s Newsletter for upcoming projects, sneak peeks, contests, and of course, the opportunity to tell him what you’d like to see next! He’s anti-spam and takes your privacy seriously, so sign up now!

  About This Book:

  Lea is having the worst Valentine’s day ever.

  Her boyfriend dumped her…

  …for her best friend.

  Her mother’s getting remarried…

  …to a jerk.

  Her step brother is insanely hot…

  …and an asshole.

  Just when she asks if anything else can go wrong…

  Her step brother kisses her. In front of their parents.

  FML.

  A Valentine Step is a standalone novella of about thirty thousand words. No cliffhangers, lots of steam, some dirty language and a HEA.

  A Valentine Step

  Chapter One

  Lea

  “I’m sure he’s cheating on me.” I lift the fork to my lips as Jen stares at the waiter’s ass.

  “Why are the hot guys always so…” Jen shrugs. Then it’s like my words register; she goes still and stares at me with horror in her eyes. “Wait, did you just say-”

  I swallow the bite of greens, lamenting on the evils of Kale. I’m on Jen’s side, all the things that look good are bad for us. Men. Food. Whatever.

  “He’s cheating. Were you even listening to me?” I shift in my seat as the waiter walks back over. His cologne washes over me, something nose-ticklingly strong and sharp.

  “Anything else for you lovely ladies?” he asks, clasping his hands together.

  “Spritz, not bathe, darling,” Jen says, her brilliant smile lighting up.

  I feel a stab of jealousy. If I said something so bitchy people would hate me. But she’s got this smile that eases the sting of anything. It helps that she’s drop dead gorgeous. Her sky blue eyes are so light around the pupil they’re almost white. But there’s a deep ring of dark blue around the edge of them that makes staring into them feel like drowning. She’s got beautiful smooth skin and naturally sun streaked buttery blond hair. Gorgeous.

  “Huh?” The waiter asks, his mouth dropping open. I watch, fascinated. It’s almost like his brain registered the insult to how much cologne he’s wearing, but her smile overrides the negative and turns it all into good feelings. “Of course. Dessert?”

  He’s got a grin now and his handsome face looks slightly dopey. Yep, I call that the Jen effect. The smartest guy turns into an idiot around her.

  “Yes, please,” Jen says, gracefully placing her elbows on the table. Rubbing her hands together, she glances at me. “Halfsies on the strawberry cheesecake?”

  I nod, knowing she’ll eat more than half. I don’t know how this girl stays so slim. I eat less than she does and I’ve got a good twenty pounds on her. And she’s a few inches taller than I am.

  “Right away,” The waiter says and hurries off.

  “You gotta stop messing with people’s heads like that,” I tell her. “It’s cruel.”

  She shrugs. “Evil is half the fun. Anyway, what makes you so sure?” She leans toward me, lowering her voice to a conspiring murmur, “I mean, did you go all to catch a cheater on him and stalk him?”

  The smell of her shampoo is strong, something bright and clean, reminiscent of mouthwatering grapefruit.

  “Not really,” I say, feeling annoyed. Since when do I need proof? Jen’s always on my side. She’s my best friend, if I say he’s cheating isn’t she supposed to rally up and offer to hunt him down and bring a shovel? I mean, not that we’d ever actually murder anyone. She just says over the top things like that sometimes. It’s endearing.

  The waiter sets the cheesecake in front of us with a flustered grin at Jen, who ignores him.

  “Thank you,” I say, but he doesn’t even acknowledge I exist.

  Rolling my eyes, I notice Jen is studying me intently. And I know she’s waiting to hear why I think he’s cheating.

  “Night before last, he didn’t come home,” I say, the words bringing a flood of relief.

  Her eyes widen and I hear her breathe my words. “He didn’t come home…”

  She takes a thoughtful bite of the cheesecake, scanning the room for something, or someone. Maybe looking for the waiter who must have Houdini’d that dessert in her mind.

  But she does an unexpected one eighty while studying me intently. “Maybe he was at his parent’s house. Did you ask him what he was up to?”

  Really? She’s defending him?

  She glances at me and seems to see the disbelief in my eyes. Her hand covers mine, her soft fingers warm. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, just that this is serious. Maybe you should talk to him.”

  She pulls her hand away and takes another bite of the cheesecake. “Besides,” she says, shaving off a tiny curl of the cheesecake filling, “he’s not a bad guy. Everybody makes mistakes. Maybe he made a mistake.”

  I snort. I can’t help it. “Mistake? No, cheating is not an oops. It’s not like dropping something, or slipping on ice. Those are mistakes. This is him trying to deceive me. This is him sneaking around behind my back and screwing some girl.”

  Her phone chimes and she picks it up. Her cheeks go a bit pale and she shoves the cheesecake across the table toward me. “Have some, it’s amazing.” She’s quick to respond to the text and shoves her phone back in her purse.

  I try a bite of the cheesecake. It’s sweet and tart and wonderful, but when I’m stressing like this, everything seems dulled. I expected Jen of all people to understand. She’s my best friend. She should be leading the charge, pitchfork and torch in hand.

  Instead she’s telling me to wait, be sure, and not jump the gun. It’s good advice, but freaking weird coming from her. She’s kind of the queen of overreaction.

  Her phone chimes again and I notice she’s turned down the volume. While she checks hers, I check mine. Nothing. But that’s not surprising. Luke, my potentially cheating boyfriend, is at work so I won’t get a text from him until later. I’m here with Jen. And I talked to both halves of my parental unit this morning, so neither of them have a reason to call; barring disaster.

  With a sigh, I shove my phone deep in my pocket.

  Taking another bite of the cheesecake, I notice the tiny up curve of her lips. Whoever she’s talking to, they’re saying all the right things. “You’re getting some,” I say and she jerks her head up to stare at me.

  “What? No, um yeah, kind of.” She seems flustered.

  “Who’s the guy?” I ask, grinning. No guy has gotten her so on edge in a long time. I’m a terrible friend. I’m so wrapped up in my own crap I didn’t even notice something’s up with her.

  “Nobody.” Her teeth slice her lower lip. She shoves her phone in her purse and folds her hands on the table. I push the cheesecake back toward her and she takes a bite. But her phone chimes again and she picks it up.

  And I just have to know.

  Grabbing it, I stand up and hold it away from her as she leaps to her feet, trying to stop me. My brain scrambles as I read the name on the screen.

  “Why is Luke texting you?” I ask, staring at her in disbelief.

  Her shoulders slump, but I look down to read the text. “I don’t care if she finds out.” Looking up at her in horror, I unlock her phone and scroll through the messages, disbelief running like ice water in my veins.

  Before I can lose it and throw her phone, I shove it back in her hands. “You were talking to him about me. You were telling him I don’t know about…” Words fail me and pain forms a hard, aching lump in my throat. I push past it as tears sting in my eyes. “You two.”

  Pain. All I feel is pain. br />
  She looks like I’ve hit her. But I don’t feel bad for her. Shaking my head, I turn to leave. “Wait,” she says, but I’m out the door. There’s nothing she can say to me. Nothing I want to hear from her.

  On the sidewalk, I feel dizzy. Lightheaded. He’s not only cheating on me, he’s cheating with my best friend.

  Walking toward home, I decide I’ll get my car later. I’m in no condition to drive right now. A guy walking by slams into me and grabs my shoulders as if to keep me on my feet.

  “Damn,” he says in a thick British accent while looking down my shirt, “Nice tits.”

  Chapter Two

  Wild

  Her lip curls and she shoves me away.

  It’s a shock. Nobody ever pushes me away. No, women tend to try to get closer, no matter how disgusting the words I hurl at them are. Not what I expected from my first meeting with my soon to be step sister, Lea.

  Yep, I’m stalking her.

  But not for creep reasons. Or not really. I mean, I’m not trying to get naked pics of her without her permission. If she wanted to share those pics, though, I wouldn’t say no. Or delete them. Now that I’ve seen her up close, I know she’s absolutely fuckable.

  My soon to be step sister seems to have no clue how her life is about to change.

  I’d worried the whole lot of them were gold diggers, but now that I’ve met her, I’m seriously doubting it. I’ll have to figure out what the hell dad sees in her mom for myself.

  I turn and watch her ass in those amazing yoga pants as she stalks off. Nope. She’s not a gold digger. Or she’d know me. Hell, I’m surprised she didn’t anyway.

  Her long fawn-colored hair hangs free to her ribs and I watch her move with appreciation. American girls are so delicious. And I can’t get the thought of her light brown eyes out of my mind.

  “Ayyy, Wild,” A guy says, squinting at me as he walks by. Ignoring him, I pull the lapels of my jacket straight.

  A pretty girl with blue white eyes stops at my elbow and stares up at me. And I recognize her right away. Jen. The girl with the pretty smile and ugly secrets. My soon to be step sister’s best friend… who’s also fucking her boyfriend.

  Judging by the look on her face, the whole ugly business just aired in public.

  “Walk with me,” I say.

  She automatically falls into step beside me as I begin to follow Lea.

  “Me?” she asks, looking shocked.

  “Yes,” I say. And this one’s supposed to be the one everybody wants? I don’t see it. But Lea. What makes her tick? The moment dad told me he was getting remarried, I’d requested my private investigator find everything there is to know about them.

  He’d been unable to find anything suspect. Nothing I could use to block this marriage. No history of anything untoward. Nothing disturbing or potentially business – or life – threatening. Just normal people living ordinary lives.

  But Lea.

  The first images I got of her just burrowed down deep in my bones. In one, she’d been staring at the camera lens with her lips lightly parted, her eyes wide and bright. The sexy, disheveled look women generally have first thing in the morning after a long night of hot sex. But she’d been running errands. Either she’s ridiculously photogenic or my private eye has some amazing timing.

  “I’m not sure why I’m here,” Jen says.

  Annoyed she’s broken into my thoughts, I ignore her and focus back on Lea. She’s off limits, but my dick and brain didn’t seem to get the memo. Or they got it loud and clear and that only intensified everything. I’m not sure which. I can’t even explain what it is I feel, much less understand it.

  “I know who you are,” Jen says, breaking into my thoughts once more with the obvious observations. Most people know who I am. I’m not surprised she knows. “You own the string of clubs along this side of the state.”

  She’s mostly right.

  “I love Wild,” she says.

  I stop moving and turn to stare down at her. Her cheeks go bright red and she stammers.

  “I mean, the club. Not… you.” She looks up at me, her lips parting a little bit. Her tongue traces them and she glances at my lips.

  Leaning in, I bring my lips right to her ear and speak in a low voice that seems to melt her. “Tell me everything.”

  We fall into step once more and she’s quick to start talking. “My friend caught me with her cheating boyfriend. He was cheating on her with me.”

  I nod. I knew this.

  “She’s pissed. Ran out on me. She’s my best friend and I hate myself.”

  “Best friends don’t hurt each other like that. They don’t fuck significant others. No,” I glance down at her, “this is deeper than that. You’re doing this for a reason. To hurt her?”

  Her mouth drops open in shock.

  “Don’t lie to me,” I say quickly.

  “I, uh,” she stammers.

  And I’m bored again.

  A slight smile tugs her lips, a seductive smile designed to tease. “Nothing like that. Maybe I haven’t met the right guy is all.” Her fingers close on my wrist and I feel a cold smile cross my lips.

  “I feel you’d only want me if I was Lea’s.” It’s a weak jab. Of course she’d want the money, the security she feels I can give her. But the pain in her eyes is a satisfying sensation for me. It’s like vindicating Lea just a little bit.

  “What’s the name of this boyfriend, now?” I ask, though I know very well. It never hurts to double check information. And triple check. I won’t make mistakes. Mistakes are messy and time consuming.

  “Luke. Luke Davis,” she says.

  “Right, then. Perhaps stop fucking your best friend’s boyfriend if you want any chance of fixing things, Miss. Anders?” I glance down at her as we walk.

  Out of the corner of my eye I can still see Lea ahead. Her pace hasn’t slowed one bit and her hips still show her anger.

  “Um, right. Can I see you again?” she asks, as if sensing my patience with her has run out.

  “Afraid not. You’re not quite my type.”

  I see the insult in her eyes. She knows she’s exactly my type in body and face. I’d fuck her.

  But lately, fucking has gotten a bit boring. Maybe I’m ready to settle down, find a woman with a brain and loyalty. But I doubt it. I think it’s more likely that I’ve seen the worst of this woman and that’s a rather big turn off.

  “Why are you so interested in Lea?” she asks. Her eyes and tone are suspicious.

  “Have a good day, Miss. Anders.” I take the opportunity to cross the street and keep an eye on Lea as Jen falls behind.

  Chapter Three

  Lea

  “Mom, I don’t think I’m up for it,” I say in protest. At home, I’m pacing. Back and forth, back and forth like I’m trying to wear a path in the tawny carpet.

  “It’s important,” mom says, “I’ve got to talk to you about something.”

  I hear the wavering note in her voice and latch on. “Mom,” I ask, sitting down on the couch and tucking a leg up under me. “What do you need to talk to me about?” Last time she’d had that tone, I’d learned my parents were getting a divorce. News that devastated my then twelve year old self.

  I’d been split between two worlds. And sure, having two of every holiday was awesome… except it reminded me how fractured my life was in every possible way. I hated every bit of it. Even now, my heart pounds in my chest as I remember how scared I’d been back then, how afraid I’d been as everything around me fell apart just when I needed it solid the most.

  Tears sting in my eyes and I feel my throat film over with an ache that makes talking painful. “Mom, I need to know,” I say through the pain.

  “I’m getting married!” The words pop out of her like a shot.

  “What?” How is it possible? She didn’t even tell me she met someone!

  She sighs on the other end of the line. “His name is Emmett Wilder.”

  Why does that name ring a bell?

>   “You didn’t even tell me you met someone,” I say, feeling betrayed. The hollow ache in my chest seems to be growing. Can this day get any worse?

  “I’m sorry. He asked me not to for now. He’ll explain everything tonight,” Mom sounds hopeful.

  It’s my turn to sigh. How can I tell her no now? “Where and what time?” I ask.

  When we finally hang up, I stretch out as best I can on my couch and stare up at the ceiling. My whole life is going belly up again and it’s a sickening sensation. My stomach is twisted up in knots and I feel like I’m going to throw up kale salad and cheesecake.

  Lifting my phone, I notice my hands are trembling. I pull up Luke’s contact information and scroll through messages sent in happier times. All the I love you’s and the I miss you’s. Did he mean any of them?

  But it’s time to send him a message before I lose my nerve. It’s over.

  Putting my phone on my belly, I cover both my eyes with my hands. I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to hurt because of him. The phone vibrates and I pick it up.

  Luke sent a message that simply says, We need to talk.

  There’s nothing to talk about, I shoot back. Leave me alone.

  I stand up and walk into my room, tossing the phone on my bed as I dig through my closet. Finding my favorite ripped jeans and black tank top that’s form fitting, I change quickly. Might as well be comfortable for this explanation on mom meeting a guy who told her not to tell me about him. Is there any way this can end that I’ll be okay with?

  Shaking my head no, I run my fingers through my hair.

  Glancing in the full length mirror, I study my face. My best feature is my cheekbones. They’re high and strong. But the rest of my face isn’t quite on the same page. My chin is too small and pointed, and the heart shape of my face isn’t quite pretty.

  My eyes are dull and brown, and so is my hair. Is that why Luke went to Jen? Because she’s prettier? Pressing my wrist to the ache in my chest, I push thoughts of them out of my mind. If I want any chance to survive the night, I need to focus on one betrayal at a time.