Step Brother Undone

by Gabriel Love

My fingers trace the dark wood and brushed silver handles before opening the one he specified. I spy the neatly folded brown paper bags. Success! I grab a stack of them and hurry back to his side.

  He’s balancing a few too many potatoes in his soil-covered hands and I smile while opening a bag for him. He lowers the potatoes in with a softly-spoken thanks and I watch him root around in the dirt.

  After a few minutes he rises and I pick up the bags and move with him. Next he walks over to the tomatoes and reaches out to a greenish one. “See, this one isn’t ready.”

  I nod. “The red ones, right?”

  He gives me a smile. “So you know something about gardening, then.” His teasing tone makes me smile. His fingers curl around mine and we reach out to a red tomato.

  “Don’t squeeze.” His fingers guide me to hold it carefully, but firmly enough to not drop it. “Now, the trick is to not pull it. Tilt it.” His hand tilts mine quickly and the tomato pops free of the stem and the weight of it settles into my hand.

  I grin. “I would have pulled,” I say. He gives me a gentle grin and begins to relieve the branches of the weight of the ripe tomatoes. At his side, I work with him, and we move plant by plant along the wall until only orange and green ones are left on the plants.

  “So, why so many plants?” I ask. I’m curious about him. He’s not at all what he seems, and I’m wondering what he’s about.

  “I like nature. I’ve spent years trying to blur the lines between indoors and out.” He sounds far away, like he’s lost in thought. He works and I watch, feeling unsure until he gives me a crash course in each picking routine.

  “It’s impressive,” I tell him, peeking at him from behind some carrots I’d dug out of the soil. Somehow the work is soothing, and my frayed nerves seem to be smoothed over.

  “Thank you.”

  “So is this why you were interested in Christopher Wren?” I ask, adding more carrots to the bag. My hand bumps his and he moves out of my way a bit too quickly.

  “Sorry.” His apology surprise me. All he did was bump my hand. It didn’t even hurt. His fingers run over the spot where we’d touched and I feel shock jolt through me. Does he feel something when we touch?

  A small smile teases my lips. How awesome is that? I have an effect on this sexy brute! It’s not just me that feels something, then. Great!

  I note that he didn’t answer my question about Wren, but we move about the house tending the plants in stages. The house leaves me in awe with its towering ceilings, abundant greenery, and natural light.

  Finally we move toward the tower and my curiosity gets the better of me. “What’s up there?” I ask. He glances up and stands. There’s a fine sheen of sweat across his brow and he smells hot, dirty, and sexy.

  “I’ll show you.” He leads me to a door and it opens.

  “Oh, god, it’s an elevator.” I falter back a step, but he takes my hand and pulls me gently into the box. He turns me to face the back of it and the door whispers closed and we move up so gently I only know we’re moving because the back wall is actually glass.

  Suddenly there’s glass behind the glass and I can see over a beautiful meadow heavily populated with yellow, purple, orange, and white flowers set against a backdrop of verdant green grass and thickly treed forest land.

  “Wow...” I breathe, and his hands slide down my shoulders to rest at my elbows. I shiver, acutely aware of his touch. His hands fall away from my skin and my heart sinks a bit.

  I turn to see the door is open and we’re in a bedroom. Along both walls there is floor to ceiling plants. The opposite walls are glass, and I see the meadow on one side, and a sparkling lake on the other.

  And he thought my place was beautiful? I mean, it has lots of natural light, but it can’t even compare to this!

  Then I catch sight of his bed. It rises up in the room like a church set in a field. My cheeks blaze red hot as I study the massive four-poster. The dark wood is offset by a sheer throw that partially masks the bed.

  “Pretty,” I say, unsure what’s appropriate. I’ve spent so much time immersed in another culture I’m realizing it’s taking hold of my responses.

  “Thanks.” He’s curt, and I turn to see him staring out at the lake. He’s a powerful figure imposing on the beauty of the surroundings while somehow adding to them.

  “So how long does it take you to water everything?” I ask.

  He grins back at me. “It’s all done with a watering system. I don’t do anything.”

  I glance at my dirty hands, feeling awkward. I’m in the room of a man I’m desperately attracted to and I’m dirty.

  “Follow me,” he says, leaving no room for argument. I fall into step behind him and he walks up to a plant wall and reaches between plants. An invisible door opens to a bathroom that runs the length of the room and I gasp in shock at the green and granite. A white wall offsets the back of the sink and such, but behind me it’s not really a wall. Like downstairs it’s the plant wall that separates.

  “So do the plants block sound and light?” I ask him as I turn on the water to wash my hands.

  “They do. I know it might not seem like it, but they absorb sound, smells, and light. On this side, someone in the room might never know you’re here if they don’t know the bathroom is here.” He gives me a smile and I swallow my surprise. He thought of everything, didn’t he?

  “So do you design things like this for people?” I soap up my hands, enjoying the way his face lights up when he answers my questions.

  “Actually, I do. I’m sure you know green is the new popular thing, and this house is about as green as it gets. I’m fully solar panel and hydro power, I grow all my own food, and I’m completely off the grid. Not that I care about that, it’s just a point of pride for some people I’ve walked through the place.” He grins, and I can’t help but return a smile.

  “That’s so awesome!” I can’t help but be happy for how thrilled he is. And he’s done some impressive things. “So, are you a vegetarian?”

  “I am, but it’s an unintentional thing. I enjoy meat, but I don’t raise animals.” He jerks a shoulder up and I turn the water off. We dry our hands off and I can’t help but tease him a bit.

  “Lazy. Get yourself some animals!”

  He laughs. “When you say it like that...” he trails off, his laughter dying.

  We fall into silence and make our way out of the room. He closes the door behind us and I turn. We bump into one another and I look up into his eyes.

  I wonder how his lips taste?

  My hands find his cheeks and I pull him down. Our lips meet and heat explodes through me like fireworks. His arms lock around me and he crushes my body to his in a pleasant way that makes my blood boil and my heart gallop.

  Then he pushes me away. Without a word he walks to the elevator. I follow and we ride down in silence. He keeps careful distance between us and is quick to escape the elevator when the door opens.

  Had I misread the look in his eyes? I could have sworn he was on board, that he was interested! Ugh, I’m such an idiot.

  I help him gather bags in silence and we walk them out to the truck. He places them into the box mounted behind the window of his truck and takes mine.

  I sense he’s being overly careful not to touch me as he relieves me of my bags and I want to scream. I made it weird. Damn it!

  With heavy feet, I make my way to the passenger side and get in. When I’m buckled in, He climbs in and we pull away from his beautiful house in silence. Not a word is said until we fly into town on a back road.

  “One more stop.” His voice is short, and he pulls into a parking lot that’s terrifying looking. A run-down building looks like it might fall down any day, but Declan goes and pounds on the door. After a moment it’s opened by an older lady who gives him a huge hug.

  He points toward the truck and my heart thumps hard. She nods and walks back in with a giant grin on her face. He ambles toward the truck and a couple guys walk out the back door several
paces behind him.

  The guys are unshaven, their clothes are soiled, and they’ve got the hardened glares of men who’ve seen things that will haunt them for forever.

  Part of me wants to yell at Declan. Are these guys going to kill him? Is this a drug deal? What it going on?

  I want to shrink into my seat as he stops at the truck and opens the box in back. He pulls out a bag and one of the guys takes it from him.

  I wince, but Declan does nothing but hand over another bag. Then he takes a couple and walks them up to the door. The elderly lady opens the door for them and they disappear inside.

  After several minutes they walk back out, talking softly as they walk back to the truck. Terror rises in my chest and I try to catch my breath as the guys descend on the truck.

  Where is Declan?

  The guys grab a couple more bags and close the box. Finally I catch sight of Declan at the door.

  The lady hugs him and thrusts a bag into his hand. He tries to deny it, but she fixes him with a hard look and he takes it with a grudging smile. He bends to kiss her cheek and waves to the guys who crack scary smiles and wave back.

  Declan ambles toward the truck and climbs in. And I ready myself to yell at him. Once he’s settled, I cross my arms and start.

  “Are you doing drugs?” I ask, my voice flat and angry. He gives me a shocked look and opens the top of the paper bag. He reaches in and pulls out a mushroom looking thing.

  “Oh, my god. You do shrooms?”

  His eyes crinkle at the corners and he lifts the dark mushroom to his nose. With a deep breath he inhales the scent and lets out a satisfied sigh. “Here,” he says, offering it to me.

  “I don’t do that stuff!” I say, shrinking away from him.

  “Damn it, Willow, it’s not drugs. Smell it.”

  I take the ball from him and smell it. An incredibly rich, earthy smell teases my nose and I crinkle it while handing him back the thing. “What is it?”

  “A wild truffle. Ethel always tries to give me something in return. These are amazing in most dishes and she knows I cook. Her son harvests them.” He gives me a smile.

  “Give back?” What did I miss? Declan stays quiet as he pulls out of the parking lot and I see the place for what it is. It’s a soup kitchen. All those vegetables we picked, for hours today, he took all of them to the soup kitchen.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. And I am. I jumped to conclusions and I feel like an absolute ass. But Declan merely says,

  “No worries.” And we’re on the road again, this time to mom’s.

  “So you cook?” I ask, needing to smooth over my stupidly offensive conclusion leaping. “I suck at cooking. I swear I can catch water on fire.”

  He gives a subtle grin and turns to me as the open road stretches out before us. “That’s quite a feat. I cook, but it’s all self taught.”

  “Well, I’ve long since thought that school for vocations was a silly thought unless you’ve no natural talent. If you’re good without help, the basics aren’t really all that important, right?” I say, stretching my legs out.

  I’d kill for a shower right about now. I almost wish I’d taken one at his place. The thought of being naked and vulnerable in the house with mom isn’t any more pleasant now than it was when I was younger.

  “I see your point, but I think my knife skills could use a touch up, and I know there are things I should know how to do that I don’t.” His thick voice is soothing and the question pops out before I can stop it.

  “Does it hurt your throat to talk so much?” I want to kick myself so hard right now. “Sorry,” I mutter, but he seems unaffected.

  “Sometimes. It’s more like a dry feeling than pain most days.” His strong features stay locked on the road and I find myself wondering about the kiss.

  Did he enjoy it? Why did he push me away? I mean, I know it was wrong, I’ve got tentative plans with another man for tea, but we’re hardly a couple.

  Mostly I hate not knowing, but when I open my mouth to ask the words just won’t come. “So how do you know my mom?” It seems like a safe question.

  His head jerks my direction and I see shock in his expression, before amusement takes over. I wait several moments, but he doesn’t respond. When he does I’m puzzled. “I only met her two weeks ago.”

  “Do you like her?” I can’t help it. I want to know what his take on her is. He flashes me another look as we pull onto the familiar road toward home.

  “I think she’s certainly... a unique individual.” His careful words make me smile. He’s not a fan of hers either. Well, maybe that means she’s the same to other people as she is to me. To a point, I’m sure.

  We pull into mom’s driveway and I suck in a deep breath. “Thanks for the ride,” I say to Declan as he shuts the engine down. He merely dips his head at me in silence and I sense him pulling away. Confused, I get out of the truck and close the door behind me.

  He falls into step behind me as I make my way up to the house. I lift my hand, but my knuckles falter inches from knocking and I want to scream at myself. What am I doing here? Why did I think this was a good idea?

  Then Declan’s words from back at my apartment echo in my mind. I don’t know what you’re going through, but I promise it will be temporary and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. He’s right. This is so very temporary.

  I knock on the door, but Declan reaches past me and opens it. It swings wide and I see a strange man sitting on the couch and mom’s stretched out on the red velvet chase with a damp cloth folded over her eyes.

  I step inside while internally fighting the urge to turn and run. The man eyes me with a warm smile and stands, but mom doesn’t even move.

  The man walks up to me and I shrink back and bump into the solid wall that is Declan. He slips an arm over my shoulder, across my chest and splays his fingers on my belly. Suddenly my fear eases and I can breathe again.

  The man offers his hand. “Willow, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  I shake his hand wondering if I should know who he is. Behind him, I see mom slide the cloth off her eyes and fix me with her usual bored look. I’m pretty sure she reserves it for me.

  “Oh, Willow, darling,” she drawls, “You’ve put on weight.”

  Love you mom, missed you too. I want to say it, but I don’t.

  She rises to a sitting position and I try to melt into Declan who continues holding me firm with a powerful arm.

  “Well, don’t be rude, girl, say hello to your new step father.” Her boredom takes on a new sharpness. Step father?

  “My what?” I squeak, my cheeks burning red-hot. She got remarried? Why wouldn’t she tell me before now?

  “Oh, Willow, don’t sound so shocked. People move on.” Mom’s flat tone twists like a knife in my belly and I want to scream at her. She couldn’t tell me over the phone before I got here, no, she had to make an ass of me face to face.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask in such a demanding tone I see her falter back a step and sway.

  “Not so loud, dear.” Mom places the back of her hand to her forehead and sways dangerously.

  I see my step father shifting uncomfortably, as if he didn’t know I was left in the dark, and against my back I feel Declan’s pulse thudding strong, steady, and calming.

  My step father puts an arm around my mother and the need to escape is so strong it burns like fire in my nose and smoke in my lungs.

  “See what you’ve done, Willow?” Mom whimpers, “My head, oh...” My step father lowers her to the chase where she whimpers softly and he places the folded cloth back over her eyes.

  I can’t breathe.

  My body trembles violently like a leaf desperate to stay attached to a branch in a tornado. The sharp flavor of blood flowers across my tongue and I realize I’ve bitten my tongue so hard it’s bleeding. And Declan scoops me up off my feet once more.

  He turns us toward the door and plants a foot into it. It opens with a crash and I hold onto him fo
r dear life as he carries me to his truck. He opens the passenger door and puts me in the seat and I sense he’s seething. With careful hands he buckles me like I’m a child and closes the door.

  I admire his long, swinging stride as he moves around the front of the truck and toward the driver’s side. With tight, furious motions he gets in and sharply pulls out of the driveway. I hold onto the door as we roar off.

  I glance over at him, seeing his hands working on the wheel and his arms flexing while his cheek ripples furiously. He spares a glance at me.

  “Has it always been like that?” He asks, and tears fill my eyes.

  “She loves me.” I hate the need to stand up for her. But it’s there. I know she’s not perfect, but who is? She’s my mom.

  “Damn it, Willow, you could have told me!” His anger is enough to make me wince.

  “How would that have helped?” I ask in a strangled whisper. He pulls off the road so suddenly I whimper. With the truck in park he releases his seat belt and mine. Before I can take a breath I’m gathered into his arms and he’s holding me close to his rock hard chest.

  I melt into him as he strokes my back with long, gentle petting motions. “I’m sorry,” he whispers in my ear and I shake my head as bitter tears roll down my cheeks. I’ve come to terms with mom. I mean, it still stings, but I’m prepared for it.

  There are no surprises. Not any more. But I imagine he was surprised, and my step father’s expression was one of shock mingled with a hint of horror.

  “You’re welcome to stay with me while you’re in town. I’ll minimize your contact and be an escape route.” He sounds so protective my heart aches. No one has ever tried to protect me from my mom. Most people just back away slowly when she rips into me.

  “Thank you.” I like the sound of it, and not just for the reasons he listed. I get a warm, sweet feeling in my chest when I think about him. There’s got to be something wrong with him. How is he single and so awesome?

  “Why are you single?” I ask.

  He laughs. “Well, my job is demanding when I’m working. I live far away from stores. I don’t roll in luxuries by choice. Oh, and I’m not romantic at all.”