by Tia Wylder
“Like father, like son,” she muttered, leading them to the office. Jackson couldn’t argue that fact, but then again…
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
*****
Two Brothers
Chapter One
I leaned over my homework, frowning in distaste and confusion. The longer I stared at the words on the page, the less sense they made.
“Em, can you help me with this?”
I looked up to see my mother struggling with a huge bag of groceries. Leaping up from the table, I grabbed the bulging paper bag from her arms and set it down on the table.
Mom eyes brightened showing a slow smile. “Thanks, honey. I feel like such an idiot. I completely forgot – Jack invited the boys over for dinner tonight, and I somehow thought it was going to be this weekend instead.”
I smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure everything will be fine. You need any help?”
Mom narrowed her eyes and looked down at my homework. “Looks like you’ve got some work of your own,” she said. “I’ll manage. Thanks, honey – you’re so sweet to offer.”
“Trust me,” I rolled my eyes. “I’d rather be doing anything but physics.”
“Jack is so proud of you,” Mom continued. She reached into the bag and set a box of fresh pasta on the marble countertop. “He really thinks you could go somewhere,” she added. “Ever thought about working for Empire?”
I bit my lip. Jack Wilson, Mom’s husband, was the CEO of one of New York City’s most powerful consulting firms – Empire Mesa. While the thought of working for such a company was tempting, I couldn’t lie: Jack made me uneasy. Not because he was a creep or anything like that. But he and Mom had gotten married when I was sixteen, and sometimes I still felt like he only saw me as a little kid. Jack and Mom were so in love, sometimes they forgot that there were other people in the world.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I’m still thinking about humanitarian stuff, you know. Maybe something like the Serenity Corps.”
Mom nodded. “Sure, honey.” But she wasn’t looking at me – she was furrowing her brow and staring into the pantry – and I would have bet anything that she’d already stopped listening.
As my mother bustled around the kitchen and began putting together the ingredients for her famous homemade marinara sauce, I bit my lip and leaned over my physics homework. The problem I was working on had stumped me for hours, but I finally thought of a potential solution. Gripping my pencil tightly in my hand, I started doing some calculations to solve the first steps.
Bang!
I jumped and gasped in surprise as the front door slammed shut.
“Yo!” A loud male voice penetrated the kitchen.
Mom wiped her hands on her jeans. “Jack, honey? Is that you?”
There was no reply. Seconds later, Damien Wilson strode into the kitchen with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. He cocked his head to the side and gave me a sarcastic grin.
“Hey, sis,” Damien smirked. “Long time, no see.”
“I’ve been busy with school,” I blushed. “Besides, I’m your stepsister,” I added under my breath.
Damien ignored me. He made a beeline for my mom, wrapping his muscular arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug.
“Mom! That smells incredible!”
My mom flushed. “Oh, Damien,” she clearly enjoying the attention. “You’re such a charmer!”
Damien chuckled. I rolled my eyes. Of course, he’s a charmer, I thought. You’re a woman, aren’t you?
I blew my bangs into the air with a sigh of frustration as I leaned down over the paper once again. My concentration kept breaking – I couldn’t focus for more than five seconds without being interrupted by Damien’s sly comments or Mom’s bright laughter.
“Guys,” I gritted my teeth. “Mind keeping it down? I’m really trying to finish this – I have to go back to school later, and I’d like to turn it in.”
“Sorry, Emma,” Mom blushed. “We’ll be quiet.”
Damien looked at me and smirked. He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side, staring at me for so long that I wondered if there wasn’t something on my face.
“Having trouble?” Damien swaggered over to the table. As he got closer, I smelled a blend of musky, expensive cologne and my cheeks flamed red.
“No,” I lied. “I’m fine.”
Damien pulled a chair up and sat down next to me. I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm, but it wasn’t easy when I was so close to his huge frame. At twenty-five, Damien was one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen. His brown hair was pushed back over his forehead, and his dark eyes sparkled mischievously as he grabbed my paper and held it out of reach, smiling smugly at me. He was only four years older than me, but I felt like a perpetual little kid whenever he was around – even at my age, Damien had been poised, cool, and so alpha that I never felt relaxed around him.
“Ahhh, little sis,” Damien rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you’re anywhere close to finishing this.” He let out a wolf-whistle. “You must be really distracted, huh?”
While heat was rising inside of my head, I faked a smile and lied. “I was just getting started,” biting my lip so I wouldn’t start grinning like a fool. “I told you – it’s hard.”
Damien nimbly plucked the pencil from my hand. When his fingers brushed against mine, I blushed again. Suddenly, I felt overly self-conscious. I really should’ve worn something nicer today, I thought, looking down at my dark-washed jeans and peasant blouse. I look like such a fat slob!
“I bet it’s hard,” Damien smirked. “But it’s simple, really,” he narrowed his eyes and focused on the problem. “Here, calculate the acceleration rate.” Rising an eyebrow, Damien slide my calculator to me.
I bit my lip and punched in a few numbers.
“No,” he let out a heavy sigh. “That’s wrong – that’s the velocity.” He grabbed the calculator, deleted my formula, then entered a new one. “So, you take this, and divide by x,” Damien added. “See?”
I frowned. He was right – but unlike my ancient professor, Damien had somehow made the advanced problem much more understandable. Just as I was about to thank him, Damien pushed his chair away from the table and stood up with his chest puffed out.
Like a peacock, I thought, trying to summon the disdain I knew I should feel. But I couldn’t help it – when Damien was around, it was impossible to tear my eyes away from him. Everything about him was so striking that I could barely remember my own name. I didn’t get it – sure, Damien was hot. But it was something more than just looks that attracted me (and no doubt, likely countless other females.) Damien had charisma, charm, a winsome personality. When he was paying attention to me, it was like the world stopped spinning.
Or maybe just started spinning faster.
“So, dinner with the fam, huh?” Damien raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Can’t wait.”
“Yeah,” I stared at my hands. “I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
Damien smirked. “Mom, you have to tell me what you put in this sauce,” he winked at my mother, leaning over the stove. “It smells amazing.”
I rolled my eyes as Mom’s cheeks turned bright pink.
“Oh, Damien, you’re so sweet to compliment an old lady,” her eyes sparkled. “I just hope your father likes it.”
“I’m sure he will,” he chuckled. “Can I help with anything?”
“No, I’m fine,” she stretched her neck a bit. “But I’m thinking of running upstairs and taking a quick shower – do you mind watch over this?” She looked at us and gestured towards the boiling pot of sauce. “I wouldn’t want it to burn.”
“I don’t mind,” I quickly slammed my physics textbook close, sliding it into my messenger bag. “I was just about finished with homework, anyway.”
Mom smiled again. “That Damien,” as though he wasn’t in the room. “What a nice young man.”
“Right,” I forced a smile. “I know.”
&nb
sp; Mom waltzed upstairs, swinging her hips from side to side and singing under her breath. As soon as she was gone, Damien opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. He grabbed a second bottle, then jerked his head at me.
“You want?”
“I really shouldn’t be drinking before dinner,” I flushed. “Wouldn’t want to get tipsy.” At least, not around you, I thought. I can barely keep my head straight when I’m sober!
“Good girl,” he smirked, sticking the second beer in the fridge and slamming the door. He held his bottle to the lip of the counter, then made a fist and knocked against the cap. It popped off with one smooth motion. He then lifted the bottle to his mouth and started drinking hastily.
I licked my lips. I’d never been comfortable around men before, especially not men like Damien. His neat little trick with the beer bottle reminded me of just how awkward I really felt.
“So, little sis,” Damien mocked as he flopped down into a chair across from me. “How are things?”
I flushed and shrugged, swallowing hard. “They’re fine, I guess.”
Damien smirked. He raised his eyebrow and let his eyes travel the length of my body, lingering on the round curve of my bust.
“Filling out, I see,” Damien teased. “You know, you should really watch what you eat. Wouldn’t want to gain those senior fifteen.”
My face heated up uncontrollably. Could he stop teasing me?
“But let me guess,” Damien continued in a silky voice. “You don’t care what other people think of you, right? Least of all your stepbrother, am I right?”
I shook my head, feeling prim. “No, it’s not that,” I defended. Damien’s eyes were still glued to my breasts, and I squirmed on my seat. “I just…I don’t know, we don’t really know each other, do we?”
He busted out laughing. He tilted his head back and poured half the beer down his throat, drinking without even tasting it.
“Let me clue you in,” Damien said. “When you get to be older, say, twenty-five…things change a lot,” he smiled slyly. “You’ll get there, Emma.”
“I don’t really get what you mean,” I swallowed hard. “What are you playing at?”
Damien gave me a long look before setting his beer down on the table and getting up, walking closer. When he was right beside me, close enough where his leg brushed against mine, he stopped and looked down.
“Well, I helped you with your homework, right?” Damien grinned. “So maybe, you could do something for me in return?”
“Oh,” I bit my lip. “Um, like, pay you? I don’t have much cash, but—“
Damien put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. A hot thrill of arousal ran through my body, and I shuddered. My heart pounded, and my breaths came hot and heavy as he leaned close.
“Adults sometimes do things for each other,” Damien purred, pressing his face close to mine. “You know…very adult things,” he added.
“Oh my god,” I quickly pushed his hand away. I was still trembling from his touch – what was he trying to do?
“But I take it that my little stepsister doesn’t feel like being very adult,” he smirked in a sotto voice. “Unless…she wants to correct me?” He raised an eyebrow.
I was blushing so hard that it felt like I had a sunburn.
“No,” I yelped, leaping out of my chair. The chair fell over, clattering on the kitchen floor as I jumped away.
Damien burst out laughing and rolled his eyes. “You are really too much fun to tease, Emma.”
“You’ve got to lighten up! It was a joke,” he added, sarcastically twisting the last word. “God, do you really think I’d pressure you into having sex with me?”
I squirmed and blushed.
Damien leaned in close, pressing his forehead against mine. Again, the musky, expensive cologne swirled over my senses, and I felt like I was about to faint with desire.
“If I ever take you to bed,” Damien growled, running a finger down the side of my arm. “It’ll be because you’ve begged me for it. You got that?”
For a moment, all I could do was stare into his deep blue eyes. I felt like the world around us ceased to exist, like we were the only two humans left alive. I shuddered at the intensity of the moment – it was like Damien could see straight through me to my very soul. Part of me hated him – part of me wanted to slap him across his handsome face and tell him to fuck right off.
But the other part of me? The other part of me was wet with lust and practically begging Damien to sweep me off my feet and make love to me all night long.
“Well?” Damien leaned in even closer, and I felt like swooning right in his arms.
I licked my lips nervously. Just as I was about to reply, the front door burst open, and Damien leaped away like a scalded cat. My heart was pounding so hard I felt like it was about to burst free of my chest.
“Dad? Nadine? I’m home,” a male voice yelled. “Sorry, I’m late!”
Seconds later, Derek Wilson, Damien’s twin brother, walked into the kitchen. When he saw Damien, he jerked his head up in greeting.
“Where’s Dad?”
Damien shrugged. “Not home yet,” he yawned. “Looks like someone stayed late at the office again.”
Derek rolled his eyes. Like Damien, he was tall, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a handsomely chiseled face. But where Damien was the evil Mr. Hyde, Derek was more the kindly Dr. Jekyll type. Together, they were unstoppable.
“Someone has to stay late,” Derek quipped, rolling his eyes at his brother. “Or else nothing would get done.”
Damien yawned, chugging the last of his beer and pitching the bottle into the recycling. “I can’t help it if work is boring,” he shrugged and snorted. “It wouldn’t matter if work was full of professional cheerleaders and free booze. You’d still be allergic to spending eight hours a day cooped up in an office.”
Damien threw Derek a wounded look, then turned to me. “You see how my brother treats me?” He pretended to pout. Part of me almost wanted to comfort him, even though I knew the thing was an act. “Besides,” Damien added. “It doesn’t matter how much time I spend – or don’t spend – at Empire. Derek’s always there to do my work for me.”
Derek groaned, “You’re impossible.” He turned to me and smiled, “Hi, Emma. How are things going with you?”
“Emma had a little trouble with her homework,” Damien grinned, and I flushed again, burning bright red to the roots of my brown hair. “But I helped her. It’s fine now,” he added. “See, someone thinks I’m good at something!”
“The problem with you is that you think you’re good at everything,” Derek scorned. He pushed past Damien and walked over to the fridge, taking a beer from inside and carefully twisting the cap open with his free hand.
“I am good at everything,” Damien smirked. “Not my fault if you’re working too much to see it!”
Watching the twin brothers always made me feel anxious and uncomfortable, like an outsider. Back when Mom and Jack had first gotten married, Mom had told me that she thought it would pass. She’d told me some crap about how “twins are naturally close” and “try not to take it personally if you’re not close right away.”
But that had been five years ago – and Derek and Damien showed no signs of letting me in.
I gathered my things from the table, then snuck out of the kitchen. The twins were still arguing, playfully ribbing each other about work…or in Damien’s case, lack thereof. It was funny to me that two men who were so similar could also be such opposites. Damien was loud, forceful, so charming that I felt like I had to hold my pants up whenever he was around so they wouldn’t fall. Derek was quiet, understated, yet somehow more intense than his brother.
Five years and being around them still makes me as shy as a little kid, I thought as I closed the door to my room and set my books down on the bed. I knew it was childish for me to still be living at home at the age of twenty-one, but honestly, I saw no problem to move until I graduated from college. Mom had made it clear t
hat I was always welcome, and living on my own was frightening. Some of my friends at school had apartments, and it seemed like they were always struggling to pay their bills or remember to drink the milk before it expired. I was much happier in my little world, safe and cozy, as far away from the real world as possible.
Just before seven-thirty, I took a quick shower and changed into a cotton sundress that Mom had picked up for me on a recent trip. It was babyish, with ruffles around the collar and sleeves, but it was comfortable…and I liked the way it made my zaftig figure look almost graceful. Opening the door to my room, I crept out into the hallway and rolled my eyes – I could still hear Derek and Damien, bickering below.