”Yeah, I know. Honestly, I think I may end up preferring the barbecue place we went to more."
The tension broken, I ordered my dinner, the restaurant's specialty, supposedly some sort of Italian/Chinese fusion noodle dish that was part lasagna, part moo goo gai pan, and who knows what else. As we waited for our appetizers, potstickers made with Italian sausage, we chatted about inconsequential things, just really enjoying our time together. In reality, the dinner wasn't all that much different from what we talked about every night around the table at home, but the fact that it was the two of us, out alone and in public together, made all the difference.
I had to admit that my main course was actually pretty good. The lasagna sheets held the Chinese vegetables and sauce perfectly, while the cheese layers carefully accented the whole thing. Best of all though was the meat, shredded oxtail that had been supposedly simmered in a tomato broth for hours before being used in the lasagna. I enjoyed all of it, scraping my plate at the end, regardless of how polite or not it seemed.
"What's for dessert?"
Sebastian pulled the waiter aside, who nodded and stated that he would ask the chef.
"I made a special request, but I don't know if it's ready yet," Sebastian explained. "What put this place on the map is that the head chef used to be the dessert chef at a three-star Michelin restaurant before becoming head chef of this place. Her specialty is tiramisu, but obviously you're not able to have the normal preparation."
"Why?" I asked ignorantly. I mean, I like Italian food as much as anyone else, but I didn't know much about how to cook Italian desserts.
"Her normal preparation involves a nice heavy dose of Kahlua to the mix, soaking the ladyfingers in it. I obviously asked if a non-alcoholic version could be made for us tonight."
Blushing at Sebastian's forethought, I was shocked when the head chef came out to bring us the dessert herself. I had seen her on Food Network a couple times. She cut just as dramatic a figure in her own restaurant as she did on television, with her short spiky blonde hair accenting her sparkling whites.
"I have to thank you for this challenge," she said graciously. "I've been making this with just Kahlua for so long, I had to really dig deep into my memory and my skills to replace the alcohol with just coffee. I added a few other things to liven it up from the classic, so I really hope you enjoy it. I know my staff is thankful, since they got to eat the two trial runs I made before you arrived."
"You shouldn't have," I said, before the chef raised her hand.
"Not at all, Miss Witherspoon. Like I said, it was a fun challenge, and I hope it meets your approval."
The chef left us, going back to the kitchen while the rest of the diners watched us dig in. Abandoning decorum, we shared the large bowl, giggling as we clashed spoons in our enthusiasm. While I wanted to take my time to savor each bite, it seemed like only moments before the bowl was empty, with only a shallow pool of vanilla laced coffee in the bottom.
"My God that was good," I muttered, licking the back of my spoon. "By the way, did you catch how she addressed me?"
"Miss Witherspoon?" Sebastian said, smiling. While it wasn't very well publicized, I had kept my original family name when Mom remarried. My driver's license still read Cassandra Athena Lacadaemotis, and let me tell you that was a pain in the ass to learn to write in first grade. "Yeah, I heard it. Kind of liked it, but it wasn't totally correct."
"You liked it, huh? And what would you make different?"
Sebastian leaned forward, his lips next to my ear and whispered. "I was thinking it would sound better as Mrs. Witherspoon. But, all in good time with that."
Blushing, I barely paid attention as Sebastian paid the bill and we left. Outside, overtaken by the romance of the scene, I practically floated to the parking lot. When we reached the car, Sebastian pulled me in close, giving me a deep romantic kiss that curled my toes before opening my door. We drove back to the hotel, and you can guess what happened the rest of the night.
I woke up the next morning to the sound of my cell phone having an epileptic seizure. Sebastian and I had been up until two in the morning making love, until we both fell into an exhausted slumber. So when my cell phone went nuts at seven in the morning, you can guess my reaction.
I was just about to throw my phone across the room when Sebastian's phone also started going insane, causing both of us to sit up. Sebastian was very privacy-conscious, and had put custom settings on his phone that only certain people could get through. If he was getting messages, they had to be important.
Grabbing my phone, I started scrolling through what I had already gotten. It only took two messages for the color to drain from my face, and my heart to catch in my throat. "Oh my God," I moaned, clicking on the link in one of the messages, this one from one of my so-called study buddies in my economics class. I don't even want to repeat the words I read.
My browser opened, taking me to what I politely call the floating turd in the toilet bowl of the Internet. The most egregious of gossip sites. In any case, the news wasn't just there.
"Keepin' It In The Family!" the headline screamed, with a full sized close-up of Sebastian and I kissing in the parking lot of the restaurant the night before. The text was full of innuendo, although most of it was close enough to the truth to keep them in the clear if I even did want to take them to court. Whoever the real reporter was, they had almost a total itinerary of what Sebastian had done since leaving home Friday afternoon. The barbecue restaurant, the hotel -- including a few quotes from anonymous staff that I seem to be quite the screamer -- and all of Saturday right up until the restaurant.
"Jesus H. Christ," Sebastian muttered, looking at his own phone. I figured his own browser was on the same page as mine, or at least something similar. "Dad is going to be pissed."
We didn't even shower, pulling on our clothes as quickly as possible. Heading downstairs, I wanted to tear the heads off of the woman working behind the front desk, but knew it wouldn't mean anything. The hotel source was anonymous, and could have been another guest, the cleaning maid, anyone. The hotel could plausibly deny anything and everything, and me making a scene over it would just hurt us in the court of public opinion.
After checking out, Sebastian and I took the Interstate back home. While nowhere near as scenic as the drive up, it did shave our driving time down to three hours, including a stop to gas up about halfway home. The rest stop had a convenience store, and I went in alone, realizing that despite all the stress, all the fucked up emotions from the situation we were in, I was hungry. Thankfully, the clerk on duty was either not paying good enough attention, or wasn't the sort to peruse gossip websites, and I was able to buy my Ding-Dongs in peace.
Sebastian was quiet most of the way back, grimly looking ahead while keeping the BMW at exactly ten miles per hour over the speed limit. While I wanted to talk to him, I had no idea how I was supposed to break the silence, and together we just drove while the iPod mix droned away. Finally, about ten miles before we got off the Interstate, Sebastian looked over at me.
"I'm not ashamed of falling in love with you," he said quietly, turning his attention back to the road. "I'm not angry or upset about taking you out for dinner last night. In fact, yesterday was the best day of my life. I just want you to know that."
Blinking the tears away, I smiled and nodded. "Me too. I love you, Sebastian."
When we got home, none of the staff greeted us at the driveway, or at the door. The entire house was empty, which wasn't totally unexpected. Parking the car, Sebastian led me inside, where we found Donald and Mom sitting in the dining room, waiting for us.
"So I guess you heard as well?" Sebastian said, taking his normal seat at the table. At a change of pace, I sat down next to him, across from my mother. "I'm sorry you had to find out the way you did, we had actually wanted to tell you tonight."
"To say it was a shock to find your son and your stepdaughter kissing on the front page of a major media site is one thing. To get woken up by ev
eryone from Business Week to Forbes is quite another," Donald said, looking over at Sebastian. "Do you have any idea what sort of public relations nightmare you two have caused? Sebastian, I've overlooked your promiscuousness in the past, even at times helping clean up your mess, although you never knew about it. I figured you would grow out of it. I was quite the hell-raiser myself when I was your age. But to seduce your own stepsister!"
"Donald, Sebastian didn't," I began, before Mom cut me off.
"Not a word, young lady. Of all the stupid, hormone-driven things to do! What do you have to say for yourselves?"
"We're in love," Sebastian said simply. "Father, I knew about those times you covered up for me. I'm not going to beg for your forgiveness now on those times, it's not deserving of how you raised me. But with Cassie, it's different. I love her."
"Of course you do, she's family!" Mom said hotly, her fist pounding on the table. "But do you know what you're doing is illegal?"
"It's not illegal at all, Amanda," Sebastian replied evenly, turning his eyes upon Mom. "We're not blood-related, plain and simple. As for the morals.... well, honestly as much as I love Cassie, I don't care about the morals."
Mom was about to reply when Donald held up his hand. "Wait a second, Amanda. Sebastian, are you serious about what you're saying?"
"Yes, Father. I love her.”
Donald nodded, looking over at me. "And Cassandra? Do you feel the same way?"
Looking at Sebastian, I nodded, taking his hand in mine. "Yes, I do. Donald, I love your son. He's the perfect man for me, and I'm proud to be with him."
Donald nodded, then looked over at Mom. “We’re just going to make it harder on everyone if we don’t go along with this."
Mom looked from Donald to me to Sebastian and back, kind of a circle. "But Donald, our family...."
"Our family is stronger together than it is scattered and split," Donald said, and for the first time I could feel the force of Donald's personality turned on fully. It was a match for Sebastian's, and I could see why he was the only person Sebastian couldn't influence in his life. It was as physical an aura as his son's, but with more years of experience behind it. "Amanda, I love you, and I love Cassandra. That Sebastian has fallen in love with her is something not totally unexpected, she's as beautiful as you are, and honestly one of the smartest and strongest young women I've ever met. She's perhaps the only woman of all the women he's brought to this house or other places that I know of that is strong enough to actually be a partner to Sebastian."
"Father, before you continue, there's two other things," Sebastian said, squeezing my fingers gently in his hand. "First.... well, do you want to tell them Cassie?"
I nodded, smiling. "I'm pregnant. You're going to be grandparents." I didn't want to waste time beating around the bush, so I just spit it out plainly.
I don't think I'd ever seen a happier expression cross Donald's face than when I said those words. Mom, on the other hand, looked worried for a moment, but then accepted what had all been said, and a smile came over her face.
"Well then, I guess we'll have to redecorate one of your rooms. I assume you two will want to share the same room, of course?"
I laughed, before something Sebastian said earlier caught my attention.
"Wait a second, Mom. Sebastian, you said two things. What's the second?"
Sebastian reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small black box. He set it in front of me, nodding. "Go ahead, open it."
My hands were shaking as I opened the box, which hinged to reveal a thin gold band with a square cut ruby in the middle.
"I know tradition calls for diamonds, but since rubies are my birthstone, and you're more important to me than my own blood."
I picked up the ring, examining for only a moment before slipping the band on my finger. He didn't need to ask, and I didn't need to answer. It was, of course, a perfect fit.
That's just the way Sebastian was.
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Continue on to read Survival: A Military Stepbrother Romance. It’s a short novel with an HEA. At the end, there is also a preview of my new novel Relentless.
BONUS: Survival: A Military Stepbrother Romance
By Lauren Landish
“The only relief I had was that if I was going to die, I was going to die in your arms.”
After a hectic month, I was at my wit’s end and in need of a change of scenery.
With his irresistible smile and charm, my Army Ranger Stepbrother, Wes, convinces me to go backwoods camping with him to take my mind off of things. I don’t know why I agreed. After all, my idea of roughing it was a Holiday Inn that only changed the sheets every other day.
But what was intended to be a getaway to clear my head turns out to be a series of events that lead Wes and me to discover our true feelings for one another and fight for our survival!
**This is a standalone, full-length romance with a HEA and no cliffhangers!**
When Wesley finally relaxed, I realized that his eyes had never left mine. Our bond was deeper than ever, our relationship forever changed. Our lips found each other again, and this time our kiss was soft and tender, his hand coming up to stroke my hair and to cup my face. Wordlessly, he smiled and rolled to the side, keeping our bodies pressed together as he pulled me into his chest. He held me for a few long, silent minutes, and before I realized what was happening, tears began to form in my eyes.
“What’s wrong, Robin?” Wes asked.
“I’ve loved you for years, Wes,” I said as his eyes were still shimmering at me. “I just don’t think I realized it.”
I’d realized my feelings for him ever since the crash, and my emotions were whirling inside me. I stroked his face, chuckling inside at the feeling of his day’s growth of beard. It wasn’t like he’d had time to shave, after all.
Before he could respond, I added, “Wes, we both almost died yesterday. And the thought that went through my mind as we crashed was that my only regret was that I hadn’t loved you the way I know I do. The only relief I had was that if I was going to die, I was going to die in your arms. So when I woke up this morning and I felt you pressed against me, I wasn’t going to live in fear any longer. I realized that life is too short, and I don’t want to have any regrets.”
Chapter 1
Wes
My pickup truck rumbled as it pulled into the half-mile long driveway that really should have been called a private road. Making its way slowly past the manicured bushes and trees of the multi-million dollar estate, the old truck looked out of place, like it belonged to the gardener or maybe a delivery man.
When I pulled in front of the main entrance and shut down, I sat there silently for two minutes before getting out. I had dressed in blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt, my standard casual wear. The black really contrasted with my skin, and I may have looked too plain and out of place, but I was comfortable walking across the crushed granite driveway and up the marble steps to ring the doorbell. The tone echoed through the large building before being answered by the tapping sound of dress shoes walking toward the door. The door opened, and a door butler who wore the seemingly mandatory facial expression of all butlers stood there.
“Master Wesley,” the butler said, a slight softening to his features coming over his face as he spoke. He had known me for years, and I think he kind of liked me. “You didn’t inform us of your arrival.”
“My flight just got in two hours ago, Winston,” I said, “and I didn’t think it would be worth it to disturb Father or Rebekah.”
“They are in the family room right now, sir,” Winston continued. “I think you will surprise them very much.”
“With that doorbell? I doubt it.” I laughed, walking through the foyer. Mounting the stairs to the second level, I appreciated that the decor changed from staidly palatial to a warmer, more intimate style, rich with wood tones and softer materials.
At the far end of the second floor was the room I was searching for, a family room that looked very out of place for such an expensive house. With a regular sofa, television, and even a Barcalounger, the room looked more like it came from a suburban tract house than an estate. “Hey guys.”
“Wesley!” my stepmother, Rebekah Brandt, said, standing up to come hug me. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were coming home for a visit?”
“Because I just got back two hours ago,” I explained again, returning the hug. “Besides, I thought I’d surprise you.”
Releasing her and setting her back on her feet, I shook hands with my father. It’s weird; it’s not like he’s distant or anything, but there’s something about him that says he’s not the sort of man to exchange hugs with. I’m the spitting image of Gerald Brandt. Both of us stand six foot four, and while the middle age spread has started to affect his waistline, Father is still lean for his age and sports a large frame. “Father, it’s great to see you. I missed you both.”
“Welcome back, son,” he said. “Now kick off your shoes and have a seat on the sofa. Rebekah and I were just getting ready to watch something on Netflix. I already have the cheese and crackers ready, but Winston can get you something else if you want.”
“No, I’m good,” I replied, sinking into the soft cushions. “I ate on the flight home.”
Bastian: A Secret Baby Romance Page 8