My Not So Wicked Stepbrother (My Not So Wicked Series Book 1)

by Jennifer Peel

  Chapter Fifteen

  I stared up at the Saturn V rocket suspended above my head, trying to pay attention to the presenter droning on about scrap metal supplements and alternative iron making. Usually this stuff totally geeked me out and I had no problem paying attention, but I had a lot on my mind. Starting first with—was Josephine an adulteress? That was a funny word with a very ugly connotation. Would she cheat on my dad? Did she even love him? I knew she loved his bank account.

  Then there was Sawyer. He never showed up for dinner at his dad’s house. He said by the time he was done working he was beat, so he and Shelby grabbed a bite to eat before he went home. How come he had enough energy to eat with Shelby? I guessed it had worked out. It let me get to know Bridget and Warren better and get some of my questions answered. I didn’t like what they had to say, but I figured I wouldn’t. I did like them, though—a lot. I kind of sort of mentioned that to Sawyer on the phone when I called him from the airport to let him know I arrived safely in Huntsville Saturday night. He got quiet, like, the deafening kind. I probably should have waited to have that conversation in person, but he’d brought it up. He said, “I never got to ask you how dinner went on Friday.”

  I mean, I didn’t tell him I wanted to kiss Bridget because of her chocolate cake. Or even that when they both hugged me goodbye it felt like when he hugged me. All I said was, “I had a great time. They want us to come over sometime next week when I get back.”

  Sawyer suddenly had to get off the phone. He and Kellan were watching the Rockies or something. That was three days ago, and we hadn’t talked since. It was a good thing I hadn’t mentioned I was meeting Bridget at the cute new ice cream shop in Edenvale when I returned.

  On top of my Sawyer dilemma, I was struggling with whether or not I should talk to my dad. Would he even listen to me? Or would he chalk it up to me not understanding what marriage was all about? Maybe I didn’t have firsthand knowledge, but I sure knew what a good marriage looked like, and his and Josephine’s didn’t qualify. I was racked with thoughts of what if things didn’t work out between them, which I’m not going to lie, I would be A-okay with that, but would he be upset after the fact that I didn’t tell him what I knew?

  This was all giving me a headache. I was glad when the presenter gave his ending spiel about the company he worked for and all the amazing research they could provide, you know, for the right price.

  I stood and took a deep breath and let it out.

  “That sigh sounds like it has some meaning,” the man next to me said. Of course it was a man. Eighty-five percent of the attendees here were men.

  “Scrap metal supplements deserve deep thought.”

  The stranger chuckled and stood. “I’m Dustin.” He held out his hand that looked like it had seen some hard work. Veins popped out under his calloused skin. My own hands had looked that way from time to time. It was a byproduct of my profession.

  I took Dustin’s hand and shook it. “I’m Emma.”

  He let go of my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Emma. Where are you from?”

  “Colorado. How about you?”

  “Born and raised here.”

  “So, do you work at a local steel plant, or do you just like to crash these kinds of events?”

  His grin lit up his pretty blue eyes. I wasn’t sure why I noticed that, but then I noticed he was a handsome guy. He wasn’t much taller than me, but he was well built with a pleasant face. For a second, I almost felt guilty for thinking he was attractive, like I was cheating on Sawyer. Sawyer had consumed so much of my thoughts the last year, I realized I hadn’t really noticed any other men. Don’t get me wrong, this Dustin was no Sawyer, but Sawyer was my friend, end of story. Dustin would probably end up that way too. They all did.

  “I work at Ducor.”

  “Oh. I signed up to do a tour of your plant tomorrow.”

  He leaned in, allowing me to get a whiff of his spicy cologne. I’m not going to lie, it was kind of nice. “Then I will see you tomorrow, Emma from Colorado.”

  Was he using a flirty voice there?

  “See you then.”

  “I look forward to it.” He walked off to join a few other guys, but not before he looked back at me and flashed me a smile.

  I looked behind me to see who his pearly whites were directed at. There was no one there. I guess that meant it was me. I smiled back and waved. His smile grew bigger before he turned around. That was weird.

  What was weirder was Dustin wasn’t the only man who had given me attention since my arrival at the conference. Maybe I should do my hair more often outside of work and wear something besides old T-shirts. It was really time consuming, though, to do all the girly things like blow drying, curling, makeup, shaving your legs. Though I had to do that last one religiously unless I wanted to look like Bigfoot’s younger half-sister.

  I decided to get takeout for dinner from the Brazilian restaurant near my hotel. I would have loved to take advantage of the running trails near my hotel, but holy mother was it freaking hot and humid in Alabama. How people even breathed here I didn’t know. It was like inhaling soup.

  I settled onto my bed with a variety of meat, fresh fruit, and a soccer match on the TV. This was the life. Then my life called, I mean Sawyer. Same thing, right? Wrong.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I decided to act chipper despite our less than cordial conversation a few days ago. I didn’t think we had gone this long without talking since, well, you know, when the worst thing that had ever happened to me happened, paving the way for all the other crappy things that had followed.

  “How are you, Em? I miss you.”

  I loved when he said things like that because I used to pretend he meant it in a romantic way, but I had to face reality, like for reals this time. “I’m good. How are you?” You see how I left off how much I seriously missed his face? Baby steps.

  “You don’t miss me?”

  Dang him.

  “Should I?” I teased, trying my best to hold on to my iron will. Make that my paper-thin will, but I was getting credit for trying.

  “I know we left things a little weird on Saturday.”

  “Did we?”

  “Come on, Em. I know I was short with you and I haven’t called, but I have a really good excuse.”

  “You know, I haven’t noticed.” I grinned evilly to myself.

  “Knife to the heart. I am sorry, for not . . .”

  “I know you have a hard time with your dad and Bridget. I get that.”

  “Regardless, I shouldn’t let it affect us. But I didn’t call to talk about my,” he cleared his throat, “father.”

  “Why did you call?”

  “Like I said, I missed you, and I haven’t called because I’ve been under attack, literally.”

  “From who?” Please don’t say Shelby.

  “It’s not a who—it’s a what.”

  I was more than confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “My apartment has been infested with bees.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Very. There are thousands of them inside the walls. Not only that, but the honeycomb has soaked into the wall causing an ant infestation as well. There are ants everywhere, not to mention I was stung twice while taking a shower.”

  I tried to control my laugh. “Should I ask where?”

  “Sitting has been a pain. I’ll leave it at that.”

  My laugh escaped. “I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve been staying with Kellan while apartment management tries to get in a beekeeper. They are trying to find a specialist because the infestation is that bad.”

  “You need to move.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “I’m more than right.”

  “They’ve offered to let me move into a different unit, but it’s not available until this weekend.”

  “You need to move out of that complex, period.”

  “I will when the time is right. For
now, I was hoping you might take pity on me and let me crash at your place. Kellan’s place smells like pork rinds and cheap perfume.”

  “That’s telling.”

  “Yeah, well, his couch isn’t all that comfortable either, and someone I know has a spare bedroom.”

  “You want to use me for free room and board now?” I teased.

  “Name your price. Please, I’m desperate. Your house smells good and my body is crying for a bed.”

  The thought of Sawyer sleeping at my house was making me feel all sorts of things. Like one, why wasn’t I home already? Two, I would be home on Thursday, which meant we would be living together for two or three days. It would be like a dream come true minus we weren’t married and sharing my bed. So basically, it would be like hell because I could look but not touch.

  “So,” he interrupted my thoughts, “will you save me?”

  Who was going to save my heart from him? “Sure. You have a key—help yourself, but no parties or girls.”

  He chuckled.

  I wasn’t kidding. He better not bring any women into my house to live out my fantasies with him.

  “You drive a tough bargain, but okay. Honestly, thank you. You’re a life saver.”

  “You’re welcome. The sheets on the guest bed are clean and there are fresh towels in the linen closet near the upstairs bathroom.”

  “You’re the best, Em. How’s your conference going?”

  “Good. I attended a really sexy session today about remelt processes and innovations. I know you’re jealous.”

  “Very.” He laughed. “I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get home. And,” he paused, “I still want to talk to you.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m hoping it will be.”

  “You’re worrying me.”

  “No need to worry, just promise me you’ll keep Friday night open.”

  “Is after soccer practice okay?” We had a game on Saturday and there was no telling what Gwendolyn, the worst assistant coach in the history of any sports team, had been teaching them while I was gone this week. I’d left her instructions, but I knew she wasn’t following them. She was probably stuffing my girls with caviar and Perrier while her boy toy husband rubbed her feet or something.

  “That works. I’ll see you when you get home.”

  “Hey, don’t touch my real Dr. Pepper if you know what’s good for you.”

  “I do know what’s good for me. Good night.”

  Strange. I stared at my phone after he hung up. I thought he would laugh and remind me he didn’t drink his calories.

  Why did I feel like things were changing for us? I had a feeling, like most of the change in my life lately, it wasn’t the good kind.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Was it weird how giddy I was to visit Ducor’s steel plant? It’s not like I didn’t work at one. I guess I had been missing the sights and sounds of three-thousand-degree molten steel being tapped out of an electric arc furnace all week. There was something about seeing those amazing oranges and reds light up the mill while a stream of liquid steel poured into a giant ladle. It was raw, and in that stream were a hundred different possibilities. It could be turned into car or appliance parts, tools, even toys. I didn’t know why it brought me satisfaction to know that I played a part in that. I could make sure all those things were made out of quality steel. Not only that, I held the key to profit margins. I made sure we were running as efficiently as possible and that every roll of steel that came off our line was quality.

  “Impressive, right?” Dustin yelled over the sound of the EAF tap.

  I hadn’t realized he joined the tour. Or maybe I hadn’t noticed him. We were all in hard hats, protective goggles, and sexy orange Nomex jackets, so it was hard to tell who was who on the tour.

  “It is!” I yelled hoping he could hear me. We were all wearing ear plugs. “But the furnace at my plant is bigger,” I joked.

  He leaned closer. “Do you work in a melt shop?”

  I nodded. “I’m a melt cast metallurgist.”

  “Really?”

  “You’re surprised.”

  “There aren’t a lot of women in our field.”

  “What’s your position here?”

  “I’m the melt shop manager.” He held the same title as Wallace, my boss.

  The tour guide had us start moving down the strand so we could follow the journey of the steel as it was cast.

  “Do you want to see the caster pulpit?” Dustin yelled.

  Ooh. That wasn’t part of the tour. Even though I spent an inordinate amount of time in a caster pulpit—or what we called the observation deck where I worked— I was excited and curious to see how they ran things at this plant. Maybe they were doing something better than we were that I could bring back to my plant.

  I nodded my reply, so I didn’t have to yell.

  I realized as the two of us left the group that it might look like we were sneaking off together. Not like there was anywhere in a melt shop to have romantic pursuits. It would be too dangerous. Besides, there was nothing sexy about 140 degrees with 90 percent humidity.

  Dustin helped carefully guide me to the observation deck that was perched back behind the strand where the steel was being cast and molded. It was nice to be in the pulpit where I could take out my earplugs. After all these years I wasn’t fond of them, even though they were a necessity. My metallurgist heart felt right at home among the large computer monitors. It almost looked like a control tower for an airport. The monitors in the semi dark room constantly fed the engineers and techs information about the equipment below to make sure everything was functioning as it should. The system was advanced enough to detect impurities in the steel.

  Funny how even the men on this crew reminded me of the guys back home. They were all a little rough around the edges with varying stages of beer bellies. The older they were, the bigger the bellies seemed to be.

  Dustin introduced me to the engineers and techs on this shift. A plant like this—and ours—ran 24-7. “Emma is visiting from Colorado. She’s a melt cast metallurgist.”

  All the men nodded. One asked what company I worked for. Another asked what we produced. The last one asked, “Where did you go to school?”

  “Colorado School of Mines,” I replied.

  Dustin whistled. “Impressive. We’ve had a few summer interns from there.”

  “I hope you have had better luck with your interns than we do.”

  Apparently not, by the way all the men laughed.

  “We had some fool up here in the pu-u-u-lpi-i-i-t,” one of the techs overexaggerated his Southern accent, “clipping his toenails last year.”

  I shared my crying in the bathroom over an Instagram post story. It got a lot of laughs.

  Dustin put his hand on the small of my back and pushed me forward. “Don’t be shy. Feel free to have a look or make suggestions,” he offered.

  I felt like a kid at Christmas. One of the engineers even offered me his seat. I readily took it. I didn’t expect to see anything out of the ordinary, but I did. I was a little nervous to say anything so as not to step on any toes, but I’d want somebody to say something if they’d noticed. “Hey, it looks like some of your thermocouples are running hot. Do you have a breakout warning system?”

  Dustin and the engineer who had given me his seat peered up at the monitor.

  “You’re right,” Dustin said.

  I gave the engineer back his seat so he could do his thing.

  I was able to watch them for a moment as they tried to resolve the issue. As hard as it was, I kept my mouth shut. This was their show.

  Dustin smiled at me as if he knew how difficult it was for me to stay quiet. “I think my guys have this handled. Would you like to join me for lunch?” He gave me a disarming smile that reminded me of Sawyer. It made me think of the text Sawyer had sent me this morning.

  Sawyer: Thanks for a good night’s sleep. Can’t wait to see you.

  I’d bee
n missing him too.

  Dustin’s smile faltered when I didn’t answer.

  I shook my head, trying to get Sawyer out of it. It seemed like an impossible task. “Thank you. I’d like that,” I managed to say.

  “Great,” Dustin breathed out, relieved. “I have something I would like to discuss with you.”

  My interest was piqued. I popped in my earplugs and followed him back out. I wasn’t sure where we would eat. The plant, like most steel plants, was out in the middle of nowhere. On my drive out there this morning I had mostly seen a lot of cornfields, cows, and a couple of gas stations.

  He led me out of the melt shop into the blazing hot day. It was like jumping out of the frying pan right into the fire. I was never going to complain about how hot it was back home. Dry heat was a beautiful thing.

  Dustin removed his earplugs. “We have a decent breakroom in our cold mill; do you mind if we eat in there?”

  “Um . . . sure, but I didn’t bring a lunch.”

  He gave me a furtive smile. “I might have packed an extra lunch today.”

  I took my protective eyewear off and bit my lip. “Oh, so you planned this?”

  “Do you mind?” He didn’t deny it.

  Did I? The question should be, why should I? Sawyer was my friend, but I was in love with him. But this was a lunch date? Maybe? I was allowed to go on dates, though I didn’t have very many. “Are you a polygamist?”

  He squinted his pretty blue eyes. “No.”

  “Do you have a police record of any sort?”

  His cheeks pinked up. “Full disclosure—when I was in high school, some buddies and I got arrested for cow tipping.”

  “Is that really a thing?”

  “We learned the hard way that it’s not.”

  I laughed. “You sound like my kind of person.”

  That earned me a toothy smile from him. “Shall we, then?”

  I nodded before taking off my hard hat and running my fingers through my hair. He’d seen me all girly the day before, so hopefully this charming look today wouldn’t frighten him.

  “If you would like, we can take my truck; it’s kind of a walk over to the cold mill. If that makes you uncomfortable, though, I totally understand.”