Step Brother Undone Page 5

  Right. Not romantic. Like I’m going to believe that.

  We untangle from each other’s arms and my mind leaps to the massive four poster bed in his green bedroom. Nope. Not going there. I don’t jump into bed with guys. As tempting as he is, as sexy and sweet as he is, I’m not just going to sleep with him.

  But damn, the thought is so tempting.

  We drive in silence back toward his house and I relax back into my seat, hating how much talking to mom takes it out of me. My body is begging me for a nap and I’m not sure I can turn it down.

  I wake when my door opens and Declan scoops me out of the truck. “You’re getting a great workout,” I mumble, my brain still thick with sleep.

  “Nah, you’re too light. I curl three times your weight, darlin’.”

  I grin sleepily. “I can walk,” I say. He nods and his lips curve into a gentle smile.

  “I know. But this is more fun.” He carries me into the house and lowers me to my feet. From his pocket he pulls his cell phone and angrily slides his finger across the screen before putting it back in his pocket.

  I let go of the questions building up in my mind and walk over to the living area. A lazy orange tabby cat looks up at me from a sleekly modern black couch.

  “Hi kitty,” I whisper and make my way to him. He seems wary, but I give him some distance and reach out to let him sniff me. His whiskers tickle my knuckles as he explores my scent. Then he butts against my hand and I rub him gently behind the ears.

  “Hannibal doesn’t like strangers,” Declan says. I hear his last word rise with surprise.

  “Kitties like me,” I say softly.

  “Are you hungry?” Declan asks, and I nod. “I’ll cook, since I don’t want my house to burn to the ground,” he says, his tone teasing.

  “Har, har, har, you’re so funny,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster while Hannibal begins to purr loudly. The orange tom rises and comes over to turn a circle and curl up in my lap as I pet him.

  The silence from Declan makes me glance his direction. His expression is so soft I wonder if he’s even the same person I met yesterday.

  Yesterday. Wow.

  Not nearly enough time has passed for me to feel so warm and fuzzy about the guy. So what if he’s sweet, caring, and has a hard edge that’s breathtaking?

  He catches my glance and I feel a jolt of warmth as he studies me a moment. The moment dissolves as he leaves the room without a word.

  I shake my head. “Well, Hannibal, I think things are getting crazy.”

  Hannibal looks up at me, blinks lazily, and gives a mew. Then his attention snaps to the window and I feel him tense up. He’s gone in a flash and out a little kitty door I didn’t even see before and I miss his warmth.

  I rise and meander toward the kitchen where I hear Declan moving around. God, he’s mouthwatering. Even as he’s moving around the kitchen and gathering the things he needs to cook, he’s somehow such an alpha I want to do everything he wishes of me.

  He easily pulls a huge knife out of a wooden holder and takes the sharpener out. With several long, sure passes, he sharpens the knife and replaces the sharpener. The sharp sound of metal on a cutting board fills the air and I enjoy his swift, knowledgeable motions.

  “Can you arm the front door?” he asks, and I jolt. He knew I was here the whole time, watching him like a creep?

  “Yeah, what do I do?” I ask, feeling awkward.

  “Press pound 2751. It’s right by the front door.”

  I dip my head and pivot on my heel. Sheesh, why did I just stand there? Better yet, why didn’t he acknowledge me?

  I arm the door quickly and wonder why he’s so careful. He lives out here in the middle of nowhere. Who is he worried about? Maybe a crazy ex? But I’m not going to jump to conclusions again. That didn’t work out well for me last time.

  I meander back to the kitchen and Declan offers me a plate that’s bursting with color and smells amazing. My mouth waters and I take a quick bite.

  The explosion of flavors is followed by a rich, earthy undertone that’s rustic and thrilling. Like Declan.

  “This is amazing,” I say.

  He smiles and I follow him out to the living area. We eat and I feel the need to talk. I’m curious about him. “So, did you like Restoree?” I ask. He borrowed it from me on the plane and read it in two hours.

  “It was good. I like the romance paired with sci-fi and danger.” He pops a bright bite of food in his mouth and chews while eyeing me. When he swallows he asks, “I have the feeling you don’t want to talk about my taste in books, though.”

  He’s right. But I don’t know how to ask the other questions that are on my mind.

  “Don’t be too hard on my mom, okay? She is who she is.” As the words leave my lips his expression turns flat and cold.

  “Don’t make excuses for her.” He sounds angry and I realize the usual stab of panic I feel when people are mad doesn’t happen when he’s angry. Which is odd, since I bet he could snap me in two without even breathing heavily.

  We finish our food in silence and I wash my dish and set it on the towel next to the sink. Declan comes up beside me and washes his while I dry my hands.

  “You’re sleeping in my bed. I’ll use the couch.”

  Guilt twists my insides. There’s no way he’d fit on a couch. He’s huge! “Let me take the couch. I’m smaller.”

  “And you’re a guest.” He flashes me an infuriating grin and I know the topic is not up for discussion. We make our way to the elevator and I watch the meadow, loving how the setting sun paints the sky shades of fire orange and neon pink.

  The room opens and we disperse. He opens the bathroom door and motions me over. I follow and he shows me how to grab the handle and release the lock to open it.

  “The sheets are clean,” he says, scanning the room before nodding at my suitcase. “If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.” He pulls me into a hug and kisses my forehead. I begin to miss him the second he pulls away and heads toward the elevator.

  A sharp sting in my chest leaves me feeling so very alone as the door closes him in. At the last second, I see a wistful look in his eyes and am sure he’s feeling the same way. But he’s holing me at arm’s length! I already kissed him!

  If he’s interested, he has to make the next move.

  It’s odd to think I already have stronger feelings for him than I do for Brian.

  Oh, god, Brian. The only other time I thought about him was when I was thinking we’re not really attached, we just agreed on tea.

  The thought is suddenly unappealing. Maybe Declan raised the bar. Maybe I just realized Brian isn’t the kind of guy I’m looking for. Maybe some hulking giant is stopping me from thinking about any other male in his presence.

  I drop onto the bed and open my suitcase. Hoisting it onto the bed I flip it open and freeze. There, on top, is my vibrator. The one I couldn’t find. And Declan’s evil grin pops into my mind and anger flashes through me.

  Seriously? He packed it?

  With anger strumming in my blood I hurry to the elevator. How dare he? He’s going to hear about this. What the hell is wrong with him? Is this some kind of joke? It’s not funny!

  The door opens and the fight drains out of me at the sight that meets my eyes. An elderly, stout man holds a shotgun aimed at Declan’s chest from the open front door. Both men glance at me and Declan calls out, “Go back upstairs, Will.”

  The out of place use of Will instead of my name leaves me trembling with terror. But I’m not leaving. Whatever trouble Declan is in, I’m going to help him get out of. The man with the gun ignores me.

  “You killed her, you son of a bitch!” The guy’s furious words send my heart plummeting.

  “Roger, I know it hurts, but she wouldn’t have wanted this.” Declan speaks in a soothing tone and the man’s gun wavers. His hands are up just over his shoulders in a gesture of surrender, yet I somehow feel like he’s in complete control.

  “Now, Rog
er, lower the gun and let’s talk.” Declan is firm, and the guy wavers a bit more. I walk over to him slowly and make full eye contact with him.

  “Roger, you’re a good man. Declan has told me how kind you are. Whatever you’re going through right this second is temporary and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.” I place my hand on the barrel of the gun and lower it while he stares into my eyes.

  “You look like my Avery.” His hazel eyes study my face like I’m a ghost. When his hand reaches out to touch my cheek Declan relieves him of his gun and unloads the shells. They ting on the hardwood, but Roger is intently focused on me.

  His fingertips trace my face and I see pain shimmering behind his watery blue eyes. He pulls me into a hug and I just let him hold me, knowing whatever he’s going through, or has gone through, is more agonizing than my terror of people.

  I hug him back and catch sight of Declan making a phone call. He speaks in hushed tones I can’t make out while keeping a troubled look on me. Roger finally lets me go and I guide him back to the couch.

  We sit and Declan leaves the room and is back in a moment with a beer. He hands it to Roger, who takes it, though he seems unable to take his eyes off me.

  “I’m sorry,” Roger says to Declan, who dips his head. “I thought I heard her laughing today in the back, then I remembered she’s gone and...”

  “It’s okay, Roger. I have bad days too.” Declan sounds heart broken and I can’t help but wonder what I missed. “I should have been there to drive her home.” Declan wrings his hands in his lap, but Roger shakes his head.

  “It’s not your fault. I just need to blame someone, sometimes. And I surely can’t blame Jasper.” Roger’s eyes focus on something past me. “It ain’t right to think ill of the dead.”

  “What happened?” It bursts out of me, and Roger focuses on me again. Declan’s eyes are worried, but Roger seems to want to talk.

  “Five years ago, my daughter, Avery, was supposed to go to the lake with this lad.” He jerks his thumb toward Declan.

  Declan looks away from us and stares at some point beyond the house as Roger continues.

  “But he canceled, and Jasper took her. But Jasper...” he trails off, pain lighting his features. “Jasper had one too many and he wrecked them.” The words seem to suck the life out of him and tears shine in his eyes.

  He blinks and looks at me. “You look like my Avery.”

  Declan catches my glance and gives a little shake of his head. Roger pulls me into a hug and I try to process what’s happening. My best guess is that his memory is going. The doorbell rings and Declan jumps up and stalks over to open it.

  “Roger?” A kindly woman says. She walks over and offers him her hand. “Roger, come on. It’s time for dinner.”

  Roger looks up. “Where’s Avery?” My heart aches for him as the woman leads him out. She pauses at Declan, who looks like a drooping plant and places her arm on his shoulder. “I’ll send Darla for the gun.”

  He nods and she leaves the house with Roger in tow. He closes the door and arms the system. After a moment he walks over to me and I can’t help myself.

  “You know, you make it hard to be mad at you.”

  He seems tired as he asks, “Why are you mad at me?”

  “You packed my vibrator.” The anger that laps at me is so insignificant in the face of what I’ve seen.

  “I’m sorry. It was supposed to be a joke. Messing with your head, making you think you’re crazy, whatever. Maybe I got a kick out of invading your space.” His exhausted expression becomes mournful and my anger fades. “I didn’t know anything about you, though, and I wouldn’t have done it if I did. I’m sorry.” He flops on the love seat and I lean over to pull him into a hug.

  “I loved her,” he says, softly. “The day I blew her off I was planning on asking her to marry me. We were high school sweethearts.”

  I let him go and he leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees. “So, I guess the real answer to your question about why I’m single is that I’ve yet to move on.” He shakes his head with more than a hint of bitterness.

  “And that’s okay. One thing I know about the healing process is that you take as much time as you need.” Is that why he’s so protective of me? Because I remind him of a woman he was in love with? One he couldn’t save? I want to ask, but I’m not going there. He’s suffering enough. I spy folded sheets on the armrest and pick them up.

  I make the couch up into a makeshift bed in silence. When it’s all done, I walk over, hug him and tell him to come up if he needs me and leave him to grieve in private.

  “Willow,” he calls softly, and I stop in my tracks and turn to him. He looks so sorrowful my heart shatters into a billion tiny pieces. The need to hug him again is too strong. I close the distance between us and pull him into a hug.

  His arms circle me and once again, I feel safe. I glance up into his eyes and can’t help myself. I press my lips to his and stifle a gasp at the bittersweet joy that implodes within me. And he kisses me back; his lips move gently against mine for a moment before he pulls back.

  “You don’t know, do you?” he asks, and I feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion. I guess I don’t.

  “Know what?” I ask.

  His expression shifts and unease fills me. “Willow, my dad married your mom.”

  I feel like I’ve been slapped. Pain fills me, as does understanding. That’s why he came to get me. He told Brian he was my brother. He pushed me away, despite me being sure he was interested.

  I let him go and back away, horrified. I’ve been lusting after and falling for my step brother. A lump rises in my throat and I swallow it back as Declan gives me sad smile. And suddenly, I know it isn’t one sided. He has feelings for me too, but we can’t act on them.

  It isn’t right.

  It wasn’t meant to be.

  Damn it.

  With pain licking like flames in my belly and heart, I turn and make my way to the elevator.

  It isn’t fair!

  When the door opens I walk over and drop onto the bed, wanting to scream at the injustice of it all. There were clues! Things he said, his confusion with things I said, the way he tried to keep me at arms length...

  I roll onto my back and toss an arm over my eyes. This is a huge mess, and I don’t know how to turn my feelings off. How can I get through this? Sure, it’s new, but it hurts.

  I feel like a carpet has been ripped out from under me and I’ve landed, rug burned, with a thud hard enough to break bones as well as knock all the air from my lungs.

  The door opens, but I ignore it. I’m sure Declan forgot something. Night clothes, maybe. With my eyes covered, I just try to puzzle through the muddled mess that is my life right now.

  Suddenly, the bed shifts and Declan’s earthy, sexy scent surrounds me. Before I can even uncover my eyes, his lips touch mine and the world begins to slowly revolve around us.

  He pulls back and I move my arm to peer up at him. There’s a wistful look in his eye, and his jaw is set with steel resolve that makes me worry he’s about to do something he’ll regret.

  But he’s a big boy, and who am I to tell him to tread lightly? I feel like I’m in deeper than he is; at least he knew starting out that nothing could happen. I was allowed to fall head over heels.

  “It’s wrong,” he says softly, “But I don’t care. I feel something for you, and I know you feel it too.”

  He pauses as if waiting for me to deny it, but I have no interest in lying to him. Or to myself. There’s no reason for it, and it’ll only hurt us more.

  Our lips touch again and every doubt I have melts away. Declan’s lips are sweet, perfect, and he kisses me like I’m his, like there’s not enough time in the world, like we’re dying and this is the only thing that can save us.

  Heat surges through my belly and radiates through my body. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? I’ve never had a kiss that felt this warm, this exciting, this perfect. And I can’t imagine ever havi
ng enough.

  “You don’t see her when you look at me, do you?” I ask, pulling away from the kiss. I need to know that I’m my own entity in his eyes. I don’t want him to replace his lost love with me. If we’re going to try this, lets at least do it right, even if it’s only a one time thing.

  His artic eyes are serious as he reaches out and cups my cheek with his palm. “I think I did at first, you know that nagging feeling that you know someone, but now, I only see Willow.” His fingers part my hair and send a shiver down my back and I lean into to kiss him.

  He pulls back and moves closer so we’re side by side and touching on the bed. Excitement bubbles in my blood and I reach out to touch his hard shoulder. His lips claim mine and I whimper as I feel steely muscles flex under my hand.

  He moves forward, overpowering while still kissing me sweetly. “I want to take my time with you,” he whispers against my lips and joy clutches my heart.

  “Good,” I whisper, “I need you to be gentle.” I haven’t done this yet, after all.

  “That’s right, the magic hasn’t happened yet,” he teases.

  “And hamburger slippers with marshmallow eyes catch people’s attention.” I give a soft laugh, thinking back on my daydream of him going down on me. How would those often cruel looking lips feel on my most delicate flesh?

  I study his lips at the rest of the world blurs out. I bet it would be incredible, devilishly delicious, and intoxicatingly sexy. He inhales sharply and I realize he’s watching me watching him with a dangerously hungry look in his artic eyes.

  His fingers are almost rough as he unbuttons my jeans and I let out a squeak of terror at the intensity in his eyes. Is he going to be gentle? Does he have that kind of control? His eyes seem to belie his willpower.

  The button on my jeans pops free and the sound of the zipper lowering is nothing compared to the thunder of my heart in my ears. I can’t see anything other than his predatory eyes and I can’t imagine feeling more frighteningly close to a wild animal than I do now.

  He moves so quickly I can’t speak to stop him as he kneels before me and whisks my pants down my thighs. The violence of it lifts my thighs up off the bed and the material separates from me without hesitation.