by Rye Hart
“Oh, my gosh,” Chanel said in a whisper.
“Chanel Mathews, I love you with everything I have. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
She wasted no time in nodding her head as she threw her arms around my neck.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, Rhett. I’ll marry you.”
The crowd erupted into applause as I took Chanel in my arms. I stood to my feet and swung her around, tears prickling the corners of my eyes. The celebration of my business had just turned into an engagement party, and the food truck was now churning out free food in celebration of our impending nuptials.
I planted my lips on Chanel’s and took it all in. The heat of her skin. The roar of the crowd. The smell of the food and the sweet scent of her perfume. I drank up how she clung to me, and her body trembled with happiness as I slid the ring I had purchased a month ago onto her finger.
“I love you, Chanel.”
Her lips crashed back onto mine, her body melting into my grasp.
“I love you, too, Rhett. I love you so much.”
Everything was complete. I had everything I could have ever wanted from my life. Luke was in prison, my business looked like it would flourish, and I was going to marry the woman who had never left my mind. My best friend was in love, the city was rallying around us, and Chanel’s writing was doing better than ever.
There was nothing that could stop us now. Absolutely nothing.
The End
It’s not over! I love my readers so much that I’ve included a brand new, never before published steamy romance: My Hot Stepbrother. Check it out on the next page…
So many reasons not to but staying out of my stepbrother's bed is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
ELI
Sure, I've screwed around. I've been with lots of women, but only because the one I want keeps running away from me. Hannah Ross may be stepsister, but she's the only woman for me.
Her dad is an asshole, she just doesn't know it yet. Sooner or later, she's going to realize it, I can't protect her from him and his motorcycle club's shady dealings. Not unless I'm willing to fight fire with fire. When their rivals approach me about taking my stepdad out, I hesitate for Hannah's sake. But once it becomes obvious that her life is in danger because of him, I'll stop at nothing to keep her safe.
HANNAH
Eli claims he loves me, that he's always loved me. He thinks I'm pushing him away because he's my stepbrother, but that's not really the reason. The reason I keep running back to Seattle is because I know he's not good for me. I know what I want out of life - to have a stable, loving family of my own. Something Eli has never had for himself.
When an ex shows up out of the blue, with his child in tow - a child he knew nothing about - I promise to be there for them. Even if it kills me to spend time with the man I love, and the child he never knew he wanted, I will do it for the baby. But the more we spend time together, the more obvious it becomes - I can't deny my desires for long. Even though he's got one baby already, I can't keep my dreams secret forever.
More than anything else in the world, I want to have babies with the man I love.
In this case, it just so happens to be my stepbrother.
EXCLUSIVE: MY HOT STEPBROTHER
Chapter One
Elijah
The door to The Pig's Ear crashed open, slamming into the wall behind it. All eyes turned to the doorway, most everybody expecting some big, bad biker to come sauntering, in looking for a fight.
We were all in for one hell of a surprise though, when a petite blonde chick with her hair braided to the side stood in the doorway. Her baby blue eyes were on fire as they searched the bar, the anger on her face more than obvious. Her hands were on her hips as she stood there, oblivious to the men all gawking at her, wearing the pinkest, girliest sundress you could buy.
Yeah, my stepsister might look sweet and innocent, but she was a hellcat. Something had set her off, and I had a pretty good idea what that something was. She walked into the bar, her hips swishing as she moved. One drunk man whistled at her until his friend punched him hard in the arm to shut him up.
“Do you know who she is?” I heard the man mutter to the whistler.
The other man didn't answer. Probably smart.
Hannah Ross sidled up to the bar and turned those intense blue orbs on me, the heat of her anger radiating off of her like the sun.
“Where is he?”
I leaned against the bar, a smirk on my face.
“You know I'm not his keeper,” I said. “He doesn't listen to no one.”
She glared at me, her eyes narrowed and her jaw set. She was obviously expecting me to break under the pressure of her scrutiny. I cracked my knuckles and stood my ground. Hannah might have been able to intimidate some men with that steely-eyed stare, but she didn't scare me. We'd known each other too long for that.
We'd known each other since we were teenagers, and I'd always loved pushing her buttons. Always loved watching that temper of hers flare to life. Except tonight, I was telling the truth and after a long moment, she must have seen it on my face.
“God, it's impossible to keep him out of trouble, isn't it?” she finally said, letting out a frustrated breath as she sat down on the barstool on front of me.
The angers lowly drained out of her face and it wasn't lone before she was back to looking like the sweet, girl next door that most people were familiar with. Her face was as smooth and pale as alabaster, with not a freckle in sight. She had dimples in both cheeks, thick black eyelashes that surrounding the largest doe eyes I'd ever laid eyes upon. It wasn't any wonder that idiot whistled at her, my stepsister was certainly not unattractive.
She also happened to be their boss's daughter.
“His guys are here, but he's not,” Hannah muttered.
I poured her a Diet Coke. No liquor. She took it and downed most of it as if it was straight whiskey. No one at the bar knew it was nonalcoholic, so several of them looked impressed.
Hannah continued. “Which means he's out there doing something dangerous, stupid or illegal - or some mixture of the three.”
She was probably right. Her father – Roy Ross – was the leader of the The Grim Rebels. As President of the club, he was often raising hell, getting his hands dirty, and getting in a lot of trouble as a result of the first two.
“You know I stay out of that shit, Hannah,” I said, running a hand through dark brown hair that was long enough to touch my shoulders now. “You should too, if you know what's good for you.”
She clenched her jaw tight and stared up at me, anger still smoldering in her eyes. I stared back at her, arms crossed in front of me, and continued.
“You can't spend most of your life in Seattle, then come back here and expect things not to be different,” I said. “Your dad's not the man you remember. He's changed.”
“I know my father, Eli,” she said. “Better than you do.”
I shook my head. “As much as I hate to break it to you, princess--”
“Don't call me princess,” she said, standing up from the stool as if her petite little five-foot-four frame could intimidate me.
I tried to hide my amusement. She always hated when I laughed at her or discounted her because of her size. But, it was hard not to. Hannah and I might have come from two different walks of life – she'd he lived with her mother most of the time, in the comforts of Seattle in a nice downtown condo that probably cost more than I'd make in ten years.
She'd never had to want for anything in life, and the few times she came to visit us in Eads, her father liked to pretend life was all peachy keen. His little princess knew very little about the life he actually led, and as I grew older and more aware of it myself, I couldn't blame him for keeping it from her.
He wasn't the man she thought he was though. He was responsible for the deaths of coutless people – both innocents and rivals of his. Roy Ross was not a good man, not in the least, and if one of these days, a rival took him out, I woul
dn't be too broken up about it.
I didn't bother to apologize for calling her princess. Instead, I let a hint of my amusement shine through, casting a smirk at her.
“Your dad is a very, very bad man. Ask any one of these guys here –”
I motioned at the men around me. Some, sitting nearby, scowled at me. They knew Roy kept his daughter out of the life. They'd probably lie to protect him. Not that Hannah would ask them anyway. But, I wasn't going to keep lying to her.
“Do these look like the type of men who go around helping grannies cross the street and rescue kittens from trees?” I pressed.
Hannah looked around the room. Not too far from her at the bar was a burly man only known as Claw. No one knew why, no one knew his real name or even dared ask him where the nickname came from. At least no one I'd known.
Claw wasn't a tall man, he was shorter than me, standing only about five-foot-nine, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in muscle. He was at least three hundred pounds of pure muscle, if not more. Claw was covered in tattoos from head to toe – literally. He was shaved bald, but in the dark, you couldn't tell because blue ink covered his entire head. His face even had tattoos, including tear drops from his eyes – which, I was guessing that he'd gotten in prison.
He didn't look at us. Probably didn't even hear us. He was too focused on his whiskey in front of him. Claw was a quiet man who hardly spoke. But, he didn't have to, really. No one bothered him much for fear of getting the shit beat out of them.
Hannah's voice trembled, but she held her head high. “You shouldn't judge a book by its cover,” she said. “I would think even you'd know that by now.”
“If you're talking about –” I started to say, but then a familiar face walked through the door. “Shit, what's she doing here?”
Hannah looked at where I was staring. Shawna Mobley stood in the door. My ex – well, not my ex-girlfriend since we never got that serious. My ex-fling? Friends with benefits? Hell if I knew what to call her. Last I'd heard, Shawna was in rehab, where she belonged.
And yet, there she was in all her damn glory, standing in the doorway of my bar.
Shawna's eyes met mine, and they looked even more sunken in than before. She'd lost even more weight and looked practically skeletal. Meth was a horrible drug that did bad shit to a person. What could I say? It wasn't something I cared to mess with, that was for sure. And it was the big reason Shawna and I never worked out. She loved her highs more than she loved anyone or anything else.
Hannah had no idea who she was. She eyed her carefully, then whispered to me.
“What's that in her arms?” she asked. “Is that what I think it is?”
My heart dropped. I froze as Shawna made her way toward me. Chuck, one of the other bartenders shouted at her.
“Hey! You can't bring that baby in here!”
Shawna didn't listen. She pretended she didn't even hear him and made a beeline straight for me. My stomach was tied in knots as she stopped before me, a half smile on her face.
“Long time, no see, Eli,” she said, her voice cracking as she spoke.
My eyes never left the bundle in her arms. Maybe Chuck was wrong, maybe it wasn't a baby. It wasn't moving, and it was wrapped tightly in a blanket, it could be anything – right?
“About ten months? Almost a year since I last saw you,” I said, doing the math in my head.
She nodded, her eyes moving to the pink blanket in her arms. And when she pulled the blanket back, and Hannah gasped.
“Oh, my lord, she's adorable!” Hannah almost squealed. “What's her name?”
“Aubree,” she said.
Then Shawna looked up at me and spelled the name out carefully. I held onto the bar, trying to steady myself on legs that had suddenly gone very weak.
“I named her after your mother, Eli,” she said. “Just a different spelling.”
My mother's name had been Aubrey.
Hannah looked at the baby, then at me. “Are you saying that this is –”
“This is Eli's daughter, yes,” Shawna said, her face suddenly serious. “She's two months old. I've been locked up and clean for her, Eli, but I – I can't do this anymore.”
Shawna carefully handed the baby over to Hannah, which she accepted happily, cooing at the small bundle of joy in her arms. I guess I found Hannah's one weakness – babies. I couldn't bring myself to look at the baby, staring instead at Shawna.
“Are you sure it's – I mean, she's – mine?”
Shawna nodded. “You were the only man I was with back then, Eli,” she said. “Right before – well, you know.”
Right before she went into rehab, is what she couldn't bring herself to say. It wasn't her choice to go, but because her probation required it. Looking at the child, I guess it was a good thing she went. Not just for herself, but for Aubree as well.
My daughter.
My knees went weak at the mere thought of it.
Chuck came up behind me and repeated, “No babies inside the bar,” he growled.
“It's alright,” Shawna said quietly. “I was just leaving.”
She put a diaper bag on the bar and turned, walking toward the door without another word – and without taking the baby back. Hannah was still holding the baby and rushed after her. I hopped over the bar and reached Shawna before she got to the door.
“I can't do this,” Shawna cried, her body trembling.
As I stood there staring at her, completely flabbergasted, Hannah handed the child to me. I took the bundle, and before I even realized what had happened, I was holding the tiny little infant. She was awake now, looking up at me with wide eyes, and started to fuss. I had no idea what to do with a fussing baby, so I rocked her in my arms. Hey, it worked in the movies, I figured maybe it could in real life too.
“You can't just leave her here,” I growled. “I'm not cut out to be a dad –”
“And you think I'm cut out to be a mom?” Shawna said.
She raised her arms and showed off the fresh track marks. I let out a low groan and shook my head.
“I'm dying, Eli. My addiction is killing me,” she said, her voice miserable. “I tried to hold out for her, but I can't. The stress of caring for an infant has made me start using again, just to function, and – she deserves better than that.”
Her eyes filled with tears I was speechless. What in the hell could I say to that?
Hannah spoke softly to Shawna, setting a gentle arm on her shoulder. “Listen, I'm a nurse, maybe there's something –”
“There's nothing anyone can do,” Shawna said. “Just take care of Aubree for me, will you? Be the kind of parent to her I can't be.”
Shawna looked at Hannah, then at me, before turning around and quickly exiting the bar. With the child in my arms, I followed behind, but Hannah grabbed hold of my arm and stopped me.
“What? I can't keep her?” I growled, yanking my arm away from her.
“Eli, if she's your child, you're going to have to man up and be a dad, whether you like it or not,” she said softly. “I'll help you. Until we figure everything out, okay?”
“Figure something out? Like what?” I spat.
Aubree cried in my arms, and Hannah reached for her, speaking to the child in soothing tones. “It's okay, little one,” she whispered, holding her close.
Hannah smiled at the bundle in her arms, and I stood there, transfixed on the two of them. Hannah looked up and caught me staring.
“What?” she asked.
“I just didn't know you were good with babies.”
“I'm a nurse,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I'm around babies and kids a lot.”
Hannah's smile told a deeper story, though. The way her eyes lit up as she stared down at the child. The way Aubree quieted once she was in her arms. She seemed like a natural at it. A pro. A hell of a lot better than I could ever be.
“It's more than just that,” I said.
Hannah shook her head, ignoring me. “Doesn't matter, we have to get her
out of here.”
“I'm on the clock for another three hours,” I said, scratching my head. “And a bar is –”
“No place for a child,” Hannah finished for me. “I'm off tonight. I'll keep her at my place until you got off. Stop by later, we'll figure something out.”
She looked up, and the anger and frustration that had marked her face earlier was gone. Hannah was just Hannah, but happier than I'd seen her in a long while. I reached out and squeezed her arm gently.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I'm not doing it for you, Eli,” she scoffed. “I'm doing it for Aubree.”
She grabbed the diaper bag from the bar and headed for the door. Before she left, she turned and cast a dark look around at everybody in the bar.
“If anyone sees my dad, tell him to return my calls, please,” she yelled. “And Eli, you better get your ass over right after work, I'm not babysitting while you get drunk with the guys.”
There she was. The Hannah I'd known since we were both teenagers was back. The smart-mouthed, don't-take-shit-from anyone attitude that I knew so well. I couldn't help but smile as I saluted her.
“Yes, boss,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes at me and exited the bar as quickly as she'd entered. As soon as she was gone, everyone seemed to let out a breath at the same time and the atmosphere in there was decidedly less tense.
“Damn, Roy has some good genes,” one of the guys at the bar said. “It's a shame she's off-limits.”
“She wouldn't date you anyway,” I grumbled.
“How the hell do you know that, boy?” the man asked, his beady eyes nearly black and set deep within his face, behind a rat-like nose.
“Because my stepsister has high standards,” I laughed. “Like, impossibly high standards that no one here in Yora could possibly meet.”