Mine: A Stepbrother Romance: (With bonus novel Bossy!)

by Kim Linwood

  Still, speaking of teasing.

  I look up, and catch Hunter watching me. I make a point of adjusting my breasts, scooping out the still squishy mud and flicking it away. The look he gives me, and the images that flash through my mind make me glad this is going on cable. Network TV couldn’t handle the heat.

  The rest of the wrestling goes about as expected. Tall beats short, strong beats weak, everyone beats the squeamish. So few of us know anything about what we’re doing that it mostly comes down to size and not being afraid of ending up with a mud wedgie.

  Megan surprises me. She easily wins her matches, flipping down her opponents until finally ending up against Bianca, who buries her in the mud like she has everyone else.

  In the end—as much to my disbelief as anyone else’s—it’s just me and Bianca.

  My goal was to stay in the middle of the pack, but somehow I’ve managed to put myself in the running to win. I don’t really want to, but Bianca wipes the mud off her brow and stares me down across the ring like she’s got a personal grudge, and I don’t want to lose either.

  This is all your fault, Hunter.

  We circle each other slowly, the cameras following our every move. Chances are she’s going to kick my muddy butt with ease, but I can’t just lie down and throw the match. Not if I want to make it look good.

  She sneers, pitching her voice low. “He can’t come rescue you this time. No matter how hard you throw yourself at him. You think we don’t see it?”

  “See what?” I taunt. “The win with my name on it? Oh, I think I can just about read it from here.”

  Over the chatter and occasional cheer, the girls probably don’t hear us. Hunter, Blaze, and the cameras on the other hand, are eating it up.

  Bianca laughs. “You wish. You just think you’re so damn special because you got to spend yesterday together. Wasn’t that convenient? You’re going down. Just. Like. Your. Boat.”

  “Bring it on.” I don’t care anymore about the competition, I just want to see her on her back in the mud.

  She charges with a growl. I step aside, but not quickly enough. It’s a whirlwind of grabbing hands and sliding legs as we struggle to keep our footing and get the other one to go down first. She shifts her weight suddenly, and I find myself looking at the sky, the wind knocked out of me as I land heavily in the mud with a splash. One for Bianca.

  Stepping back with a smirk painted on her face, she waits for me to get back up. I take a moment, blinking while I get my breath back. I can’t afford to screw up again or she’ll win.

  I charge almost as soon as I’m up, hoping to catch her off guard. I don’t, and she almost ends it right there. She slips while trying to get leverage, and without that I’d already be back in the mud. I press the advantage, wrapping my arms around her torso and putting my leg behind hers.

  I’m not sure who’s more surprised when we crash into the mud together, me on top of her. I might actually have a chance at this. I grin like an idiot, the whole situation absurd but deadly serious at the same time.

  Adrenaline rushes through me as I get back to my feet, hot blood roaring in my ears. I think I bit my tongue when we fell, since it’s pulsing and there’s a slight metallic taste in my mouth. I spit it out without taking my eyes of her.

  No mercy now. All I want is to kick her cocky ass. And from the lightning shooting from her narrowed eyes, I’m pretty sure the feeling’s mutual.

  We crash together in the middle of the ring. I get my hand under her thigh, but her leg sneaks in behind me. Twisting, I shift my weight forward, and she wavers. Just a little, but it’s enough. Hopefully. Her arms snake around my waist, long fingernails digging into my back.

  My balance is slipping. I throw out a leg, but somehow she gets a thigh underneath it, and I know we’re about to go down. I scramble to get a hold of her, my fingers sliding over muddy skin. The world spins. I lose all sense of up and down until we slam heavily into the mud.

  It’s over.

  And I’m on top.

  Liz

  — 8 years ago —

  Poughkeepsie falls behind as the train pulls out from the station. Only a couple of hours left and it’ll be rolling in to New York. The last time I passed by this area, it was on a plane, first class. This time the train fare took most of my savings, and I packed my own food.

  It’ll be worth it though. Hunter didn’t forget.

  I don’t blame him for what happened. What could he have done at sixteen? No more than me.

  I look out the window, watching the trees whip by, with the Hudson River in the background. The bright rising sun reflects off a soft layer of fresh snow, the first of the year. As beautiful as it is, I shiver involuntarily. Getting used to proper winters has been a bit of a challenge. At first I was amazed, running around and doing all the things I’d seen on TV. Sledding, making snowmen, even awkwardly learning to skate.

  But snow doesn’t go away when you’re done with it.

  It sticks around, ruining your shoes and freezing your fingers. Pretending to leave and then coming back for more like an unwelcome party guest.

  I’m over it. Sand is better. I’m not sure I’ve been completely warm in two years.

  I check my phone again, reading his message over and over.

  Hey princess! This is your email, right? If not, sorry!

  I’ll be in NYC in two weeks, and I couldn’t be so close and not at least try to get in touch. I know it’s been a while, but I’ve been thinking about you. If you can come down, let’s meet up.

  -H

  My grin is so wide it hurts. Hunter would tease me mercilessly if he knew how amazing those few lines make me feel every time I read them. He thinks about me! I’m not the only one still hung up on our kiss, wondering if I’ll ever feel that way again.

  Afraid to move on. Afraid not to move on.

  I close my eyes and imagine what he looks like now. For being so rich, he’s kept a remarkably low profile online. A few articles here and there, but maybe he lives too far out of the way for anyone to be interested. There were some, though, and wow. Taller, broader, more grown up. I can’t wait to see him in person.

  We used to bicker and tease each other all the time, but now that our parents aren’t married and we’re a little older, I’m sure we won’t be as childish.

  I know I’ve grown up a lot in two years.

  Watching your mother spend money like water and go out every night, while you stay in doing homework and making your own dinner will do that. Our parents suck, but in a couple of months I’ll be eighteen and it won’t matter anymore. In my mind, we’re picking up where we left off, and when do, there’s nothing they can do about it.

  The train goes black as we enter a tunnel. Only the ka-thunk ka-thunk of the wheels and the slight shaking of the car give me a sense of progress. I yawn, resting my head back against the seat. Last night I told Mom I was sleeping over at a friend’s house, but instead I caught a train in the wee hours of the morning.

  She could care less what I do most of the time, but there’s no way she would let me do this, even though I saved my own money for it.

  The squeal of the brakes wakes me, and I sit up confused and blinking. The sleep fog clears quickly once I spot the sign that reads Penn Station. I’m here! Grabbing my backpack, I throw it over my shoulder and race for the door. I didn’t bring much, but enough to stay overnight if I get the chance. I don’t know exactly how I feel about that yet, but I can’t deny it has some appeal.

  Okay, a lot of appeal.

  It’s my first time in New York, but I hardly notice the crowds, the electronic billboards, the skyscrapers or anything else. Going by the tourist map I grabbed at the station, it’s a short walk to Times Square where we’re supposed to meet. I half walk, half run down 7th Avenue.

  The train was on time, so Hunter should be waiting.

  The streets are packed with so many people I’m uncomfortable. Tourists are everywhere, and people shove flyers at me no matter where I turn.
I scan the sidewalks, craning to see over the manic crush of people with somewhere to go and the stand-still traffic in the streets. How do they deal with this every day?

  I glance at my phone. One minute past. Where is he?

  We spot each other at about the same time. He pops out of one of the side streets, and my eyes are drawn straight to him. Finally.

  Seeing him in the flesh after two years, emotion threatens to overwhelm me, but I force it down. I want him to see me as a confident woman, not a bawling kid. I was right. He’s broader than I remember, not a boy at all anymore. God, he’s nineteen now, and even sexier than I imagined. I miss his long, wild hair, but it looks stylish short. More mature.

  Immediately, I throw my hand up and wave. He waves back. I want to rush over, but I stop.

  A dark-haired woman comes up beside him. She says something, and he throws his arm around her shoulder, leaning in and giving her a quick kiss on her head. The exchange isn’t passionate, but it cuts me to the core. It’s the casual sort of thing you do with someone you’re comfortable with. Intimate.

  I knew there was no guarantee that he’d waited for me. I knew it. But my delusion hadn’t left room for doubt.

  They walk up, and she stands behind as he wraps his arms around my sides and lifts me in a huge bear hug. I close my eyes and pretend his arms can hold the broken pieces of my heart together.

  “God, I’ve missed you!” He puts me down and grins. “All grown up and turning into a real heartbreaker, I bet.”

  I can’t speak yet. I just smile.

  “Liz, this is Nina. Nina, Liz.”

  We say hi and shake hands. I can see in her eyes that she knows. He can’t see me bleeding, but this beautiful woman in designer clothes who matches him perfectly, is looking at my jeans and discount jacket and I don’t see jealousy. I see compassion.

  There will be no need for the overnight bag.

  Liz

  The next morning, I wake up angry.

  At the show, at myself, at the gulls who don’t understand my drama and continue to caw their merry little lives away. I growl and hop out of bed, crossing the room to the window. The smell of the ocean slips in, tickling my nose.

  Yesterday after the mud wrestling competition, two girls were sent home, and one of my oldest fantasies was realized.

  An entire day with Hunter.

  It’s not much of a surprise that I ended up dreaming about New York.

  I go through the pitiful stash of clothing I brought with me. They gave us some money before the show started to pick up new clothes, but it wasn’t much. Not when you’re starting with next to nothing. I’m going to need help.

  Swallowing my pride, I knock on Amanda’s door. The door opens and she steps back. Megan sits on Amanda’s bed, makeup spread out next to her. They look at me coolly, our earlier sense of camaraderie wiped away by my victory.

  “Oh, s—sorry,” I stutter.

  Amanda stops me as I turn to go back to my room. “Wait... Do you need something?”

  “I, um, I won the date with Hunter.”

  “Yeah. We were there,” Megan says dryly. “Congratulations.”

  “Come on, get in here before someone walks by and starts filming.” Amanda grabs my arm and pulls me into her room. “We were just putting on our war paint before going down to breakfast.”

  It stings a little that they didn’t invite me, but I don’t totally blame them. For someone who claims not to be interested in Hunter, I do seem to end up spending an awful lot of time with him. I can’t be honest with them about why I’m here, but I can be honest about why I need their help.

  “Listen, I’m so screwed. They told me I’m doing this crazy date thing, but I have nothing to wear. They’re going to pick me up, he’s going to look like a freakin’ billionaire, and the nicest dress I have is the one I went swimming in!” My voice raises as I admit the extent of my problem.

  Megan and Amanda look at each other, and Megan bursts out laughing.

  “Sorry!” She takes a breath, and they both seem to relax. “It’s just that we were starting to think you had this whole double-agent ‘I’m not a threat’ thing going on.”

  “I don’t! I so don’t!” The double-agent part a little maybe, but not the way they’re thinking.

  “Yeah, I’m seeing that.”

  Amanda looks me over critically. “You’re taller than I am, but size-wise we aren’t that different. Bring your stuff in and we’ll see what we can do.”

  A half an hour later, I stand in front of the mirror, amazed. Amanda’s red dress is supposed to fall almost to the knees, but on me it skims my thighs. Not high enough to look trashy, but I’ll have to watch how I sit. Fortunately my shoes are a decent match, because I have giant clown feet compared to the two of them.

  I touch my lips, and brush my hand over my hair. “You are a wizard.”

  Megan beams. “I know. You should think about a different foundation. This one matches your skin alright, but something paler might go better with your hair.”

  I nod. She’s right, but the red is going as soon as I’m done. It’s pretty, but it’s not me.

  “Okay, let’s go down before they steal all the food.” Amanda smiles. “Maybe we didn’t win, but showing up with you should get us a little more camera time.”

  Breakfast is in the dining room today, the terrace being off-limits while they’re setting up for the start of my date. I should eat, but my stomach is in knots. Absentmindedly, I nibble at a croissant that’s so buttery and sweet I regret not being in a mood to enjoy it. It sure beats the yogurt cups they served on the plane flying down.

  It seems like no time at all when Blaze walks in and tells me it’s time for my date. Closing my eyes, I let out a deep breath, then stand to follow him. Megan and Amanda don’t exactly seem excited to see me go, but at least they give me little waves as I leave the table. I think they might be the only two who don’t look like they want a tree to randomly fall on me.

  I step out onto the terrace and Hunter is already here. I stop, my feet glued to the well-worn grey stones.

  He looks amazing.

  Standing there, relaxed with his suit jacket hanging over his arm, and his crisp white shirt tucked into perfectly tailored pants that cling to his hips and show off his muscular legs. A button is open at his neck, and the whole look screams carelessly rich. Hunter’s dirty-blonde hair is tamed, except for a single lock that hangs willfully over his ear. A bouquet of red roses lies on the table next to him.

  He hasn’t seen me yet, and I watch him nod, deep in an animated conversation with one of the crew. His broad smile crinkles the corners of his sharp blue eyes, a dimple standing out in his left cheek. It’s a smile that feels so familiar, but still completely new. The tingle that rushes down my spine to kindle a delicious heat at my core has nothing to do with my teenage infatuation, and everything to do with right now.

  I can’t have him, but God, do I want him.

  My goal hasn’t changed, but I want to rage against the world that put us on opposite sides. We can’t both own this island, and once he knows who I am and what I’m doing, he won’t want anything to do with me.

  Hunter looks up and sees me. The full force of his smile takes my breath away. He picks up the bouquet and brings it over as the camera crew hurry to get him in frame. “These are nowhere as beautiful as you, but there aren’t enough flowers on the island for that. Maybe not in the world.”

  I blush at his cheesy words, hiding my crazy grin behind the roses as I bring them to my face. Sweet and overpowering, just like him.

  Quick. Say something. “Nice line, did Blaze write it for you?”

  He laughs. “Not this time. Surprised?” He holds out his arm for me.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I take it. “A little.”

  “Believe it or not, I can be charming when I set my mind to it.”

  Of that I have absolutely no doubt. Too charming for my own good.

  Our moment can’t last. The camera pe
ople close in, having gotten their shot of the pretty girl swooning over the handsome man.

  “So where are we going on this mystery date?”

  “I was thinking we could go kayaking...” He trails off with a grin.

  I laugh in spite of myself. “I’d say we’re not dressed for swimming, but that didn’t stop us before.”

  He winks. “True, but how about we skip it anyway?” Leaning in to whisper, his gaze travels down my body, undressing me with his eyes. “Unless maybe we could go skinny dipping.”

  “Tempting...” I wear my flush proudly, and give him an equally lusty once-over. “But I hear you shouldn’t swim right after eating.”

  Clear blue eyes shining with heat, he laughs. “I think that depends entirely on what it is you’re eating.” He might be teasing, but it’s not just teasing.

  Hunter Campbell wants me. Even with all the pretty girls around, he wants me.

  I close my eyes for a moment to center myself. I’m in control. I’m in control. If I say it enough times, I might believe it. Looking up through heavy lashes, I find him watching me.

  I’m so not in control.

  Hunter

  She’s gorgeous. Fucking amazing.

  I just wish I could trust her.

  I didn’t expect Liz to win yesterday, and from the look on her mud-splattered face, neither did she. Bianca probably thought she had it in the bag, and she would’ve if wasn’t for an unlucky fall. Can’t say that I’m upset about it. Bianca looks like she’d eat me alive. Smart, beautiful, and ruthless.

  Not necessarily bad qualities, but we don’t fucking know each other. She doesn’t give a shit about me. She just wants to grind the competition into the mud. Literally.

  Megan did pretty well and would’ve been a fun date. She’s cute as hell and seems like a great girl. Too bad we have about as much chemistry as dishwater. She seems to be in it for the fun anyway, and I can appreciate that.