When he gets in, it’s awkward for a second until he starts the car and his music starts blaring. He’s listening to some pretty pumping house music which he quickly turns down and I chuckle.
“I tend to listen to my music too loud,” he grins.
“Your car sounds like a gym,” I laugh.
He grins. “Yeah, I like my music to motivate me.”
“Doesn’t it end up making you drive faster?”
“Probably.”
He turns out of our street, the car making a soft purring sound. It’s an expensive model and not the kind of vehicle I’m used to being driving in.
“So, how are you feeling about moving in with the McGregor’s?” he asks. There is definite amusement in his voice and that makes me like him. “We’re a big bunch so I’m expecting it to feel pretty daunting.”
“I guess it is,” I admit. “But Mom has assured me that you’re all house trained.”
He shakes his head. “I think your mom may have been exaggerating a little. I think it’s more that my brothers have plenty of people picking up after them.”
“I think that’ll take me a while to get used to, too.”
“The team at the house are great. You hardly know they are there most of the time, but I suppose that’s because we’re all out at work all day.”
“So what do you do at your dad’s business?”
“I’m a site foreman,” he says. “I went to college but I’m not one to sit in an office. I like to be outside and getting my hands dirty and I like to deal with problems, too.”
I nod and gaze out of the window. We’re heading towards the outskirts of town where the houses get bigger. I already feel out of place.
“That must be interesting,” I say.
“No two days are ever the same.”
“So who’s looking after the site today?”
He grins. “Cameron. He’s usually doing other things but Dad wants him to get more involved at a higher level.”
I frown. “Other things?”
“He likes to work alongside the laborers but Dad doesn’t like it. He put us all through college so that we could be his management team, but not all of us want to wear suits every day. He sees it as a waste, but we are all contributing, whatever we do.”
I’m starting to feel as though Roderick might be a little pretentious. I mean, what is the problem if someone wants to do a manual job?
“Cameron is one of the twins, right?”
Elliot glances at me. “Your mom been filling you in on the family tree?”
I blush, thinking about the hours I spent googling them all. “Sort of.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” he says. “But you’ll get to know us all and then you won’t have a problem remembering who we are.”
“I think I need a reference manual,” I chuckle. “I have the worst memory for names.”
“I can arrange that,” he says, completely serious. For a moment I don’t know what to say, then he burst out laughing.
“If in doubt, just shout Mr. McGregor!”
“That’ll be one way to get a whole room of men to turn around in one go.”
“Exactly.”
“So, what do you do, Laura?”
“I’m still in school,” I say. “I’m taking Media Studies. . .I’m kinda hoping to get a job in advertising but it’s ridiculously competitive.”
“It is, but you don’t need to worry about that,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because my dad has so many contacts that he’ll be able to secure you out an amazing position somewhere.”
I’m silent for a moment. Is that how things work when you’re rich? You just decide you want to be something and Daddy calls up one of his golf buddies to give you a job. No wonder average people are struggling so much. As much as it excites me to think that I could get the kind of job that I’ve been dreaming about without going through months of groveling and effort, it makes me feel kinda sick, too. I’m a stickler for fairness and I don’t like the idea that I might secure a position I didn’t truly deserve just because of somebody else’s friendship or influence. The way Elliot speaks would suggest that this is a way of life for them. I guess when you’ve grown up with Roderick McGregor as your dad, you have an acceptance of the way things work within your world. I suppose he doesn’t know any different.
“That won’t be necessary,” I say. “I’ve been working really hard so my grades should speak for themselves.”
Elliot glances at me, taking his eyes from the road for just a second. “It’s a pretty competitive field.”
“I know, but I’m okay with doing it myself.”
The car is quiet again, except for the muted beat of Elliot’s music and the luxury-quiet hum of the engine.
“I respect that,” Elliot says after a time. “But I think you’re going to need to accept that things are going to be a bit different for you now you’re a part of our family.”
“Is that what I am?”
Elliot chuckles. “You’re the daughter my father never had. Trust me. You’re going to be sucked into the McGregor family vortex so fast that your feet won’t even touch the ground.”
“Now I’m scared,” I say. I truly am. I’m used to being an only child and I’m used to having my mom to myself. I’m used to having space, too. Maybe not physical but just time to myself. Now I’m going to have to share Mom with ten stepbrothers and a stepfather. I feel like I’m going to get lost in amongst all these new people.
“Don’t be scared, Laura. We’re a bunch of pussycats underneath all the loud voices.”
We drive for a while longer and Elliot tells me about the charity run he’s going to be taking part in at the weekend. It sounds like a worthy cause – raising money for a cancer support center. I’m annoyed that I can’t join him; I tell him how my injury has stopped me from running for the past six months.
“That kind of injury just needs the right therapy,” Elliot says. “I can help you with that.”
“You can?”
“Yeah. I’m sure that if we work together on trying to get you better, that you’ll be joining me on the next half marathon.”
I shake my head because I can’t imagine it. I’m fine walking, but every time I try and pick up speed, the muscles that were torn in my left leg scream out in pain.
“Trust me,” he says. “You haven’t got anything to lose, have you?”
He’s right. I don’t. “Okay. It’s a deal.”
He grins so hard his dimples show. I’m pretty sure that Elliot is a really good guy and I’ve only been in his company for twenty minutes.
As we pull up outside the gates to the mansion that I’m about to start calling home, I say a small prayer that the rest of the McGregor brothers are going to be just as nice.
2
The McGregor mansion is something else. I was expecting it to be big. With ten fully grown sons and a constructions business, there’s no way it was going to be anything other than a show-piece. I think it might be the most gorgeous house I’ve ever seen. A mixture of red brick traditional, with white full height columns and a huge covered porch to the front, my mouth is hanging open at the sight of it. Forget the amazing manicured gardens and sweeping driveway. It’s like a modern fairy tale.
Elliot drives around to the side where a large garage door begins to open. Inside it’s huge, with enough space to house at least twenty cars. There are some spaces so I’m assuming that not everyone is home. That would be my nightmare. Being faced by so many new people and not being able to remember anyone’s names!
I look down at my hands in my lap. I’m wringing them so tightly that my knuckles are white. Elliot puts his hand on my knee. “It’s going to be okay,” he says. “My brothers are pretty rowdy but they all have good hearts. You’re going to love them all.”
I smile tightly and nod.
“Let’s go face the masses,” he laughs, getting out of the car and rounding to open my door before I’ve gotten my purs
e from the foot well. “Your new quarters await,” he says with a ridiculous bow.
“So gallant,” I say.
“My father raised us to be gentlemen,” he grins. “We may all be a little rough around the edges, but underneath it all, we know how to treat a lady.” He takes my things from the backseat and we head towards the house. I’m hoping to enter through the spectacular front door. It’s at least twice my height. Instead, Elliot puts his thumb on a scanner to open a side entrance. He ushers me through first and I find myself in a wide hallway. The floors are the most gorgeous soft-colored wood – oak maybe – and the walls are grey. With gilded mirrors and gorgeous brightly colored art, it isn’t really what I was expecting. This has been a man-pad for a long time, after all. I guess I had in mind lots of black gloss and leather.
There’s the murmur of voices coming from deeper in the house. Elliot closes the door behind us and I wait for him to pass me so he can lead the way.
“We can head for the den,” he says.
They have a den? We follow the hallway around until we’re entering a huge room with vaulted ceilings. There are giant couches and a cinema-sized TV.
And there are more McGregor brothers.
Three of them.
They’re in the middle of laughing at something when one of them spots us. His smile is slow and lazy and his brothers turn to see what he’s looking at.
“This is Laura,” Elliot says, his arm sweeping out to indicate me. I smile nervously as they all seem to take their time in looking me over.
The one who saw me first has messy brown wavy hair and the lightest grey eyes I’ve ever seen. “Donnie,” Elliot says, pointing at him. “And these two fuckers are Barret and Blake.”
“Nice,” Barret says, shaking his head at his brother. They are scarily alike with light brown hair and short trimmed beards, their blue eyes identically intense.
“He meant my brothers choice of words,” Blake says.
I blush because for a second I’d thought he’d meant the word to describe me. “Of course,” I say. “Good to meet you.”
“She’s formal,” Barrett says raising his eyebrows.
“She’s pretty,” Blake adds and my cheeks flame.
“And you’re being a douche,” Elliot says. “Way to make our new sister feel comfortable.”
“Sister?” Barret bursts out laughing. “Don’t let Dad hear you calling her that.”
A look passes between them all and a few seconds of silence. Doesn’t Roderick want them to welcome me into the family? Is he intending to try and keep us distant from each other? Maybe he’s not happy about Mom bringing me along as baggage. That isn’t the impression I got from Elliot in the car but who knows.
“I want to paint you,” Donnie says, interrupting the moment of discomfort.
Now it’s my turn to raise my eyebrows. “He’s really good,” Elliot tells me. “But take a look at what he specializes in before you agree!”
“If she does agree, can I observe?” Blake asks. Donnie gives him a withering look and I feel as though I’m watching an Olympic table tennis match.
“Don’t listen to my brothers,” Donnie says softly. “I only want to paint your soul.”
My soul? This conversation is getting a little weird.
“Anyway.” Elliot turns to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m gonna go and freshen up. I’ll leave one of these reprobates to show you to your room.” He turns to his brothers. “Be nice.”
“Nice?” Blake scoffs. “Better leave it to Barret then.”
I see the look that passes between the twins as Elliot retreats back into the corridor. I may have done some digging on this family but nothing has prepared me for the reality of getting to know so many people so quickly.
“You can’t paint a soul, Donnie,” a deep voice sounds from the corner of the room. A chair swivels around and yet another brother appears, with a Mac on his knee.
“I can paint anything I want, Antony,” Donnie says.
“Twenty bucks says that our little sister isn’t going to let you try.” Antony grins and even from a distance, I get the full hit of a pair of gorgeous dimples and laughter lines that tell me this man likes to smile. Damn. With a shock of dark hair and gorgeous tan skin, I seem to have lost my ability to speak. There is so much testosterone in this room that I have no idea what to do with myself.
He places the laptop on a low table and stands, forming an imposing figure at over six foot for sure. “How about I take you to see your room, Laura,” he says. I look at the other brothers but none of them seems to object. “Dad had his PA arrange for it to be decorated but I think he may have forgotten to tell her how old you are.”
He saunters past me, taking my bags from where Elliot placed them, and I follow like an overwhelmed puppy. It’s hard to take in everything around me. More hallways filled with doorways that I glance into quickly but don’t get a sense of the rooms beyond. An amazing staircase from the formal hallway that curves and splits in two.
“This is the main staircase, but there are others,” Antony says. “It’ll take you while to get your bearings but don’t worry about wandering around. There’ll always be someone around to help you get to where you need to go.”
“Is there a map?” I ask him and he laughs.
“I guess we could do with one, but it’s not often we have new people joining us. Our staff stick around and, well, there hasn’t been anyone serious for Dad in a long time.”
“What about you guys. . .girlfriends, I mean?”
He glances back at me. “We don’t generally bring anyone here,” he says. I don’t miss the expression on his face; a flash of somberness before he dials up the Antony charm again. “Can you imagine. . .ten strange women walking about the house?”
I see his point. When there’re ten brothers, any kind of socializing is going to end up like a frat party. “It’d be like inviting over the whole cheer squad,” I say.
“Now there’s an idea.” Antony waggles his eyebrows as we finally finish climbing stairs. Up here, the hallway is carpeted in soft cream. It’s so spongy under my feet I just want to take off my boots and stroll barefoot. “Your room is nearest to mine,” he says. “So if you need someone to fight the monsters under the bed, I’m your man.”
I chuckle. “There hasn’t been any monsters under my bed since I was eight years old.”
“Well, a pillow fight partner then.”
“I think you’ve been watching too many teen college movies.”
“Maybe something like that.” Antony stops outside a door and takes hold of the handle. “You ready?” he asks.
His eyes are dancing with amusement, those dimples and laughter-lines making me feel warm in places that definitely shouldn’t be sparking about my new stepbrother. I imagine him in his bedroom somewhere across the hall, shucking off those clothes and sliding naked between his sheets. Damn. This is exactly what I was fearful off; unrequited and completely forbidden feelings for a houseful of sexy men. How the fuck am I supposed to deal with all these raging hormones without combusting?
“I guess so,” I say sounding distracted.
He opens the door slowly and allows me to walk in first. I burst out laughing immediately. It’s a pink princess heaven. Every wall and surface is covered with the kind of things that an eleven-year-old would love. Butterflies and flowers hang from the sheer pink canopy that overhangs the bed. There are so many fluffy cushions resting against the headboard that it’s going to be some kind of mission to get to sleep each night.
“See what I mean,” Antony chuckles.
“It’s the princess room I never had,” I say softly. Mom always did her best but there wasn’t much spare cash around to indulge in redecorating my room every time I was into something new.
“I’m an architect so I know some great interior decorators if you want to get it changed.”
“That would be so rude,” I say. “Your dad went to all this trouble.”
“It wasn’
t any trouble. He asked someone to do it for him.”
“All the money,” I say, looking around again. I catch sight of an open door in the corner that looks like an en-suite. No sharing bathrooms at least.
“I don’t want to sound like a pretentious dick but the money really is just a drop in the ocean. Seriously, if you want something a little more appropriate for age and level of sophistication, then let me know. We could sort it out in a weekend. Abbey Rainer is particularly popular at the moment. She has a real eye for space and color.”
I get what feels like a pang of jealousy hearing him talk about a woman with so much appreciation. He rests my bags down on a chaise in the corner of the room and I don’t miss the way his back flexes. His hair is shorn close to the skin at the back of his neck and I get a crazy urge to run my fingers over it, imagining the soft velvety texture. When he turns I feel my cheeks flaming.
Antony’s eyes scan my face, another grin forming. “Little Laura, are you blushing?”
Oh god. How mortifying.
“All those stairs,” I say, pressing my hands against my cheeks. “I’m hot.”
“Yes, you are.” I’m pretty certain his eyes drop to my breasts.
We’re standing in silence for a few seconds and if feels so awkward. Is there really sexual tension here between me and my almost stepbrother?
“So...”
“Can I get you anything?” Antony asks, slipping his hand into his pocket.
“I’m good for now,” I say.
“Okay then. I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Sure. . .and thanks for the personal escort. There’s no way I would have found my way with directions.”
Antony heads towards the door. “You have ten stepbrothers now,” he says. “Ten men to look after you. Better get used to not having to do much on your own.”
And with that, he’s gone, closing the door behind him.
I take a quick look around, opening drawers and peeking into my new walk-in closet and gorgeous bathroom. My room is four times the size of my old room. I think about what Katelin would think about it. My cousin moved to New York last year. Mom kept things quiet but I overheard her talking to her sister on the phone about Katelin’s harem. I didn’t know what it meant until I googled it. Seems she’s living with three men.
10 MEN: A MEGA MENAGE REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE (HUGE SERIES Book 7) Page 2