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

by Jennifer Peel

  Macey dropped her chopsticks. “No one likes Josephine. And Ashton . . .”

  Marlowe nudged her and shook her head.

  “Ashton what?”

  Marlowe curled her lips. “It’s just stupid rumors. Ashton’s a good guy.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes,” Marlowe was quick to answer.

  “Then where is he?”

  “Well, you would want to leave too if people were saying . . . well, saying the stuff you accused him of.”

  I set my food to the side and picked up a balance statement sheet. “Yeah, well, I know what it’s like to want to leave home and not come back.”

  It was silent for several minutes. I didn’t bother to even look at my sisters. I was here to help them sort their mess out and then I was out of there.

  Macey finally broke the silence. “Do you really think Ashton robbed that couple and . . . you know?”

  “It’s called sex,” Marlowe said bluntly.

  I looked up from the report, still unable to find their discrepancy. “I do.”

  “You have no proof,” Marlowe challenged me.

  I decided to focus on Macey. “Why are you asking?”

  Her face burned red and she started to shake. “It’s just . . . it’s just . . . we met here a few times.” And before I knew it, she ran toward me and curled up on my lap like a child and started bawling.

  I wrapped my arms around her. “Macey, what happened?”

  Marlowe was now shaking too, but in a furious sort of manner. “What were you two doing here?”

  “Stuff,” Macey eked against my chest.

  My stomach churned. “Macey, please tell me you weren’t.”

  “He said he loved me,” she wailed.

  Marlowe jumped up. “That lying, cheating . . .” She grabbed her phone.

  “Marlowe, put your phone down,” I demanded. “Were you seeing him too?”

  “What?” Macey sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  Marlowe lowered her phone, but she wouldn’t answer.

  “Marlowe, were you seeing him, and did you bring him here too?”

  She threw her phone on the desk. “We met all over.”

  That made Macey curl right back up into me and lose it.

  “You didn’t answer the question,” I had to yell over Macey’s wailing.

  “Yes!” she barked.

  “Did he know about the kind of cash you kept here?”

  “Maybe.” Macey snuggled more into my chest.

  I had a feeling as to why they were off by so much. “We are going to go through every receipt and report and then you are going to call the police and then Dad.”

  “The police?” Macey cried.

  “If my suspicions are right, you’ve been robbed.” And of more than just money. This entire situation made me feel dirty and like I needed a shower.

  “Emma, I’m so sorry,” Macey cried. “I thought he loved me. He was my first. He told me I was special and that’s why I couldn’t tell anyone.”

  Let that be a lesson. If a man is keeping you secret, you aren’t his only one.

  I wanted to kill him.

  Marlowe wasn’t devastated like Macey; she was enraged. She started listing out loud how she was going to make him pay. She started by pulling out their security camera tapes. At least they were smart enough to have those.

  While Marlowe searched those for evidence, I went through their paper trail. To my dismay, they both started comparing notes about their rendezvous with Ashton. Marlowe confessed that the weekend she disappeared she had met the sleazeball in Aspen. It was the same weekend of our camping trip. That pig was sneaking off, not for a job interview, but to hook up with my sister. The thought made my skin crawl.

  By the time I left that night, we couldn’t account for $4,500. I found the other $1,500 and change in the form of credit card transactions that they hadn’t accounted for. I made them write out a deposit slip for cash they hadn’t deposited and promise me that they would take it to the bank’s night depository.

  Marlowe was still searching their tapes for evidence. Apparently, there were plenty of instances where they had both brought him here after closing, so there was a lot to look through. I left them to it. I couldn’t stand the thought of having to watch the conniving man take advantage of my sisters.

  Before I left, Marlowe took a break and put her arms around me. She hadn’t done that in forever. “I miss Mom,” her voice cracked.

  I did too. Now more than ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I missed Mom so much that I decided to sneak onto the Ranch and visit her. Josephine may have stolen a lot of things from me, but she wasn’t taking this. I took the back road and turned off my lights when I got close to Shannon’s Meadow. There was no need for artificial light. I knew the way, and the moon was aiding and abetting me tonight.

  When I got out of my Jeep parked just past Mom’s cabin, I noticed how deafeningly quiet it was. Grady’s band wasn’t playing in the background. The sounds of happy guests were only echoes of the past now. It was as if the Ranch had died. I felt my mother mourning it and begging me to fix it. What could I do? “Love,” I heard her whisper in the breeze.

  “I’m Loveless,” I whispered back.

  I swore I heard her laugh. “That’s what you think.”

  I shook my head at her, or at me, because either she was delusional or I was for believing I could hear her. I tiptoed through the tall grass and wildflowers toward the gate leading to my mother. That gate opened and closed, startling me. I grabbed my phone and turned on the flashlight to see what or who made the noise. A tall who of a person stared back at me, just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. I’d thought he’d all but forgotten my mother. I glowered at him before turning and running back to my Jeep.

  “Emma, stop,” Dad called.

  I refused to listen to him, so he proved to me that he could still outrun me. It was those long Carrington legs. For a middle-aged man in cowboy boots, he could sure move. He was to me in no time, wrapping his arms around me.

  “Emma,” he whispered.

  “Let go of me.” I tried wriggling out of his arms.

  “No.” He held on tighter.

  “Please let go,” I cried against his chest.

  “No, Emma Bear.”

  He hadn’t called me that in forever. I burst into tears against his chest. “Why? Just why?” That’s all I wanted to know. Why had he brought that awful woman into our lives? Why had he forgotten about our mother? And did he ever really think of himself as my father?

  His strong arms held on for dear life while he rested his chin on my head. “You remind me so much of your mother it hurts sometimes.”

  “Is that why you hate me?”

  He leaned away and looked down at me with regret-filled eyes. “I could never hate you.”

  “Why didn’t you ever give me your last name?” That question had been eating at me for the last several days.

  He closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath. “I wanted to.” He let go of me only to take my hand. “Let’s go sit on the porch and talk.”

  We turned toward Mom’s cabin with the pink door, but something was wrong. Even in the dark I could tell the door was the wrong color. I let go of Dad’s hand and raced to the now blood-red door. The smell of new paint hit me like a slap in the face. I went for the thermometer to grab the spare key only to find it was missing. I turned and unleashed my fury on my father, who stood on the steps looking at the door with wide eyes.

  “How dare you let her touch this cabin! Was it not enough that she’s ruined everything else, you had to give her this too?” I started to march off the porch until I saw the tears leaking out of my father’s eyes.

  “Damnit, I told her not to come near this place.” In defeat, he sat down on the top step with his face in hands. “I’ve made a mess out of things.”

  Amen to that. I sat down next to him. “Why her?” I went back to my original question
, or the one I really should have asked to begin with.

  Dad lifted his head and slowly turned my way. Tired, red eyes stared at me. “I miss your mom.”

  “So you replaced her with a psycho?” I was past trying to play nice.

  “I could never replace your mother. She was one of a kind.”

  “Yes, she was.” I wiped away my tears. “So why? Why Josephine?”

  He stared into the starry Colorado night. “For a while, she helped me forget.”

  “You wanted to forget Mom?”

  “I wanted to forget the pain of losing her.”

  I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, well, you could have picked someone better for the job.”

  He turned and kissed my head. “I know.”

  “She said you withheld your name from me. Is that true?”

  His entire body went rigid. “Damn her.” He put his arm around me and pulled me closer. “I never adopted you because I felt guilty. Anders was the best man I’d ever known. The kind of friend who would give you his last dollar and rush into a burning building to save your life. He loved you and your mom so much. I fell in love with both of you, too. I’m ashamed to say it was before he died. I never acted on those feelings until he was gone. Your mother never knew. The least I felt like I could do was let you have Anders’s name since I got everything else. Honey, I’d give you anything you ask for, including my name if that’s what you want, but believe me, you got the better man’s name.”

  I nestled into him like I used to. “Dad, what are you going to do?”

  “I’ve got to fix this mess, don’t I?”

  “Yes, you do.” He had no idea how much of a mess it was. I was going to let my sisters fill him in on the pieces he was missing.

  “I’m sorry, honey. Your mom was having some words with me tonight. She’s not all that happy with me.”

  “I don’t suppose she would be.”

  “I was blind, but not anymore.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve missed you.”

  He pulled me closer. “Kid, I’ve missed you. You are the daughter of my heart. If making it legal will make you feel better, let’s do it, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  He chuckled. “I have a feeling there’s another man who would like to change your last name.”

  I popped up. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Emma,” he brushed back my hair, “are you blind like your old man?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sawyer. I like that kid.”

  I grabbed my heart and swallowed. “Dad,” I shook my head, “he doesn’t, I mean we’re not—”

  Dad took my hands. “I’ve seen the way you two look and act around each other. I’m sorry if my relationship with his mother has done anything to impede your own relationship.”

  “Well, it hasn’t helped much. He’s not very happy with me right now.”

  Dad shook his head. “Nah. I think, like me, he knows the truth deep down. We’ve both been fools. We’ve both hurt you.”

  I nodded with tears in my eyes.

  “I am sorry, Emma Bear, the Lady of Carrington Ranch.”

  “I think I’m going to start signing my Christmas cards like that.”

  Dad laughed. “Your mom would love that.”

  Then I was for sure doing it.

  “You know what else she would love?”

  “What?”

  “To see you with Sawyer. She thought he was the one.”

  “I did too,” I choked out.

  “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know if there’s anything I can do. I’m not even sure he feels the same way.”

  “Your old man may be wrong about a lot of things lately, but take my word for it and your mother’s—he loves you.”

  “How does mom know?”

  He rested his hand on my cheek. “You don’t think she’s watching over you?”

  My tears trickled down his hand.

  He kissed my forehead. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  See, I told you, where there is love there are miracles, Mom whispered in the breeze.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  All day Wednesday I felt like singing “Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead.” Well, she wasn’t exactly dead, but Dad said last night while we talked on the porch that he was filing for a legal separation, which was just as good, in my mind. Was it awful that I would love to be there when he told Josephine, to capture the look on her collagenized face? It was going to be even better after Dad told her that he and the girls went to the sheriff’s office to file a report. Per the girls, Dad was on the warpath.

  It was about time.

  The only damper to it all was, I knew this would hurt Sawyer. He thought our parents were happy and that his brother was a good guy. I guess, in turn, it hurt me too, because I knew my chances with him now were zilch, nada, nothing. Even if I did have the heavenliest of angels watching over me. I’m telling you, my last name meant business. Maybe I should take Dad up on his offer to become a Carrington, but after what he said last night about Anders, I didn’t know if I could. It was all I had of Anders, even if it really had been a crap parting gift on his part. It was the gift that kept on giving. But Anders was a good man, even if he had left me Loveless.

  With Josephine on her way out, I decided I better get on my Lady of Carrington Ranch duties and get the anniversary gift baskets out for July. I couldn’t have Mom blaming herself for anyone’s breakup. I pulled out her chocolate truffle recipe. Her thumbprint smudge could still be seen on it. It was weird how much I treasured seeing it each time I pulled it out.

  While I was finely chopping the chocolate and singing loudly to the Backstreet Boys, my doorbell rang. I popped a piece of chocolate in my mouth and headed for the door. I peeked through the blinds on the door to see who was interrupting my groove. Oh crap. I swallowed the chocolate the wrong way and started to splutter. What was he doing here? He was probably getting his stuff, so why did he ring the doorbell?

  Sawyer pounded on the door. “I know you’re in there, Em. I can hear you. By the way, put your arms up.”

  Dang him. I put my arms up and stopped coughing enough to say, “Take your stuff and leave my key.”

  “Emma, please let me in.”

  “Go away, Sawyer.”

  “You forgot something in there that belongs with me,” he yelled.

  Of course I did. “Well, it must not be that important if you’ve lived without it for several days. If I find it, I’ll mail it to you,” I shouted back.

  “Em,” his voice turned low, “she’s the most important thing to me and I don’t want to live without her anymore.”

  I leaned my forehead against the door and breathed in and out several times.

  “It’s you, by the way, if you didn’t catch on to that,” he said when I didn’t respond.

  “How can you say that? You can’t even stand the thought of kissing me.”

  “Are you crazy? All I’ve wanted to do for the last year is kiss you.”

  “Friday morning in my bed, when you touched my stomach, it grossed you out so much you didn’t kiss me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That morning in your bed, all I thought was how warm and soft you were and how I wanted to touch every part of you. I knew if I kissed you, I wouldn’t want to stop, and I didn’t want you to think that’s the only reason I wanted you because it’s not even close to the truth.”

  Whoa. Whoa. I felt like I was going to internally combust. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? “You want to have sex with me?”

  “When the time is right, I want to make love to you, Em, all day, every day.”

  “We would take snack breaks and naps, right? I mean, that could get exhausting and you know how much I love food. And we both have jobs.”

  “Em,” he chuckled, “will you please open the door?”

  I rubbed the doo
r taking in deep breaths and letting them out. “Sawyer, you didn’t believe me,” I choked out.

  He paused. “I’m sorry. I’ve been waiting so long to tell you how I feel about you, but between you grieving your mother and our parents doing their thing, it seemed like I was never going to get my chance. I kept waiting for you to come to terms with our family situation because I was afraid you wouldn’t give us a shot until you did. So, when everything blew up last weekend, I thought I would never get my chance. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to believe those things about my family. But I’ve always believed in you, Em.”

  I clasped my hands together and prayed this was all true. “How do you feel about me?”

  “Open the door and find out.”

  The internal struggle was real. More than anything, I wanted to whip that door open, but I had been here before—just when I thought things would work out, the curse of my last name struck. I was afraid if I opened the door I’d have an aneurysm, or maybe a plane would fall out of the sky and land on my house. Or worse, Sawyer would hold out his hand and be like, psych, we’re only friends. But he did say someday he wanted to make love to me.

  “Open the door!” That was my mother, not Sawyer.

  I looked up and smiled. You’re so pushy.

  I took a deep breath and unlocked the door. Before I could open it all the way, Sawyer pushed his way in and picked me up. His lips crushed mine before I knew what was happening. I caught on real quick as I savored the feel of his warm lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his body, drawing myself as close to him as I could. His tongue parted my lips while he backed me up against my wall, knocking a picture down. Amid the crashing glass he groaned hungrily as his tongue delved deeper and his hands ran through my hair. He tasted every bit as good as I thought he would—sweet and savory, my favorite combination.

  “Em,” he breathed out my name, exciting me. He began trailing kisses down my neck. His warm, sensuous lips made me gasp. He kissed the hollow of my neck before making his way back up where he kissed the corner of my mouth. He paused to peer into my eyes while brushing away some of the happy tears gliding down my cheek. “You’re so beautiful. I love you.”