Stepbrother Fancy

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by Lily Logan


  In the first picture, he stood in front of a glass window, arms crossed, head raised cockily towards the camera. His lips curled into the faintest, arrogant smirk, but the twinkle in his ice-blue eyes radiated the same mischief as when we were kids. His sandy blond hair, always falling floppily into his face, was now cropped close to his head on the sides, longer and smoothly side-parted on the top. His strong jaw was lightly stubbled with lighter blonde hairs that gave him just enough of an edge to be interesting looking instead of just handsome. He was wearing a suit that clearly cost several thousand dollars, or more, what did I know, and there was a faint glint of a Bulova watch peeking out from under the 1/4 inch of crisp white shirtsleeve visible at his wrist.

  “Jesus Christ, David,” I whispered to my laptop.

  I stared at the picture. I couldn’t stop staring at this man, half-familiar, half alien. I reached out my finger and traced the curve of his jawbone as if in a trance, and as I did, I felt a strange tightening in my stomach, like my whole core was clutching at itself.

  I snatched my hand away like something had burned me. What the hell was I doing? I didn’t fancy my stepbrother. I couldn’t fancy my stepbrother!

  “Shut the computer and go to sleep, Starla,” I berated myself, sternly.

  But I couldn’t stop staring at that picture of my brother and wondering. Wondering if he’d even be happy to see me. Wondering how he had become so good at real estate. Wondering how many other women had traced the curve of his jawbone, but in real life.

  “Stop it,” I scolded myself and slapped the computer closed before I got any weirder.

  I tried to sleep and put my thoughts about David out of my head. But the picture kept haunting me. That arrogant smirk, that glinting stubble. My dreams were strange and disturbed and I woke up to my cell phone alarm more exhausted than ever.

  My trainer that morning was the franchise owner and she was way too busy in the back room to be bothered with hovering over me. And for that I was grateful. After burning myself several times with the steamer, I finally just went on autopilot, shutting off the part of my brain that governed higher function and just moving like a zombie through the workday.

  That seemed to work a lot better. But all the while the sun glinted off the glass-topped building like a lighthouse leading me home.

  My shift ended at 4:30. I wavered on the balls of my feet, my heels burning with the pain of standing all day. I was sweaty, my hair stuck out in frazzled tendrils from the humidity of the steamer. I had several red, angry burns on the side of my hand.

  I was ready.

  I pushed my way out into the sunlight and walked across the street.

  The cool of the air-conditioned lobby hit my skin like a bucketful of water. I instantly broke out into goosebumps, but they had nothing to do with the temperature.

  The building was even more beautiful inside than it was outside. The huge atrium rose up like a cathedral, with a winding staircase so modern and simple that it seemed to be floating to the upper floors as weightless as a cloud. There was the slight trickle of water from an unseen fountain, but otherwise there was no other noise but a respectful hush and the slight hum of elegantly dressed people quietly making deals.

  I stuck out like a sore thumb.

  Part of me wanted to run. I wanted to turn on my heels and dart out of there, abandoning my search for David. I had found him, he was somewhere here in this building, wasn’t that enough? He had gotten really rich and really hot over the past eight years, what more did I need to know?

  This is dangerous, Star.

  I stood there wavering conspicuously when an armed security guard suddenly appeared in front of me. “May I help you, ma’am?” she asked crisply. Her sleek black hair was gelled flat to her head in a no nonsense chignon, and the .38 caliber rifle holstered at her waist let me know I had better start explaining myself quickly.

  “I’m looking for someone,” I blubbered, red-faced and stammering.

  “Who are you looking for, ma’am?” she asked, her hand idly hovering just above the gun.

  I swallowed and squared my shoulders. No I wasn’t ready to give up yet. I shoved my doubts forcibly aside. Of course I don’t fancy David. I just want to see him, that’s all.

  With far more boldness than I was actually feeling, I looked her in the eye and announced, ���My name is Starla Jennings. David Harlow is my stepbrother. Is he in?”

  The security guard opened and closed her lips with an audible popped. “Just a moment, ma’am,” she snapped, turning crisply on her heel and heading over the desk that hulked in the middle of the atrium.

  I watched her lift the receiver skeptically, shooting a look at me over the partition. People were starting to stream out of the building, the five o’clock end to the workday, and the sea of them parted around me as I stood and watched the guard speak into the receiver.

  Her eyebrows nearly shot off of her forehead. She looked up and me and nodded, mystified, then slowly replaced the receiver on the phone. “Would you come with me, please, ma’am?” she called sweetly, her entire demeanor changed.

  I felt my lips twitch into a smile and I made to follow her, but my legs felt like they weighed two tons each. I forced myself forward, pushing against the stream of people like I was moving upriver against a current.

  I wanted to ask the guard what he had said, what she had heard. I wanted to ask her what she knew about my brother and whether he was a good boss. I even wanted to ask her is she thought he was handsome too. But my tongue seemed fastened to the roof of my mouth, my throat dry with fear. I was about to see David face to face for the first time in eight years. I could hardly believe what was happening.

  The security guard walked past the bank of elevators to the back wall. I blinked at it and realized that there was another elevator here, the doors mirrored to match the glass walls. I could see my reflection and I wanted to run and hide. I looked like a frightened child, my frizzy hair, wide eyes and nervously working mouth all giving me away as an imposter.

  The security guard slipped a key into an unobtrusive panel and turned it. The doors dinged open smoothly and we stepped inside.

  I could tell she wanted to ask me questions as well. I could see her looking at my reflection in the glass of the elevator. But she was either too professional or too dumbfounded to know where to start.

  “This is a nice building,” I stammered.

  “Brand new,” she nodded.

  “And David’s office is upstairs?” I elaborated, feeling dumb. Of course it was up at the top of everything.

  “Yes ma’am,” the security guard nodded, staring ahead.

  “Cool,” I chirped, and then looked down at my toes.

  I felt the pressure change in my ears and yawned. We were still riding, the longest elevator ride of my life. I felt my heart hammering in my chest and wondered if we would ever reach the top.

  Just when I started to believe I would be standing awkwardly in an elevator for the rest of my life, the doors swished open into a silent hallway. “Mr. Harlow is expecting you,” the security guard reported, and I swear there was a look of fear in her eyes. She backed against the wall, watching me, her fingers hovering near the gun.

  I walked towards the heavy oaken doors. “Ah no ma’am, let me,” the guard jumped in front of me and pushed one of them open. “Sir?” she questioned the unseen person on the other side.

  “Thank you so much, Letitia, you can go.” David’s smooth, rich baritone wafted towards me and I felt tears spring to my eyes.

  “Are you sure, sir?” Letitia simpered. “I can run a background check.”

  I heard the scrape of a chair against the floor. “Just let me see her. I’ll know.”

  Letitia turned to look at me. “Well, go on then,” she said hesitantly.

  I slid past her awkwardly, the space not quite big enough for both of us. When I stepped into the office, I gasped out loud.

  The whole city was laid out in front of us, rolled out like a
carpet. The glinting buildings of Traverse City looked like toys from up here, and the setting sun glinted off of the glass roof, dazzling me. I stepped involuntarily towards the long bank of plate-glass, feeling like I was floating. Or flying. Soaring above it all in this incredible office.

  And then I heard his voice. “Yeah, it’s her.”

  I turned, keeping my eyes down on the carpet. I had been waiting for this moment for eight years, to finally see David again after so long. To have it finally be here, to know that I only had to look up and he would be in front of me was almost more than I could handle.

  I heard the soft sound of the door swinging closed. “Starla?” David said.

  I finally raised my head and looked to him. The sunlight streamed in from the windows, haloing him so that he looked like an angel when he stepped towards me, his arms wide. “I can’t believe it, how did you find me?”

  I was about to speak, but he crushed me against his chest, pressing the air from my lungs and with it a small, stifled sob. I sniffled and buried my head into his crisp white shirt, inhaling the scent of comfort. His arms were so much stronger now, nearly crushing me with their strength but I didn’t mind at all. In fact I wanted to be even closer.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer. “You’re real,” I whispered, choking. “You’re really here. I found you.”

  David made a choked gasping noise. “You found me,” he murmured into my hair. I felt his hand smoothing it back from my forehead and then he pressed his lips gently to my skin. It was a small kiss, a brotherly kiss, nothing more, but my body leapt to attention. I felt that same cascading need that I had felt staring at his pictures, the weird clutching in my core like I was empty and waiting to be filled. It was so disconcerting that I had to gasp and pull away.

  “Wow,” I breathed when I finally took a good look at him. “You grew up. You’re all fancy now.”

  David was standing there in his suit, looking just as fresh as if he had just woken rather than rumpled after a long day. His blond hair was slightly longer than it was in the pictures, the stubble a little longer like he might be considering a beard. But otherwise he looked just like he had in the pictures that had so rattled me.

  He was staring at me, frank amazement in his voice. “You grew up too, Star,” he murmured, speaking my childhood nickname reverently. Hearing him call me that made me smile softly to myself. I was about to disagree, to say that I hadn’t changed at all, not really, when I remembered that I had been a little girl when he left. He had never seen grown-up Starla. There were no pictures of me on Google that he could have stalked beforehand.

  “I’m eighteen now,” I reminded him.

  “Holy shit,” he rubbed his forehead in disbelief, “I guess you are.” He seemed at a loss for words. “How are you?”

  I shuffled and looked at my feet. “Better, now that I’ve found you. I’ve missed you, David.”

  A flicker of something complicated ran over David’s face. Regret mixed with defiance, sadness mixed with anger. “Come sit down, Star,” he said, gesturing to the complicated looking chair that sat facing his desk. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee?”

  I laughed. “Oh god, no coffee, please. I’ve had more than enough today already. I work in a coffee shop.”

  “Oh really?” he said with his back to me. He was pouring something out into two glasses. “Whereabouts?”

  “Across the street.”

  David looked up sharply. “You’re in town? Here in Traverse City?”

  I grinned at him ruefully. “Is that okay?”

  That same complicated look flickered over his face again. “Of course it’s okay,” he said shortly. ���You can do whatever you want.”

  He held out the thin-stemmed glass to me. “Champagne?” I asked, sniffing.

  “Cheers,” he said, raising his glass and clinking it against mine.

  “What are we toasting?”

  “Your amateur detective skills,” David sighed. “I’m impressed.”

  There was something in his voice that made me pause over my drink. “Are you…mad?” I asked him.

  David heaved a sigh and leaned against his desk, his legs crossed at the ankle. He looked so beautiful there, backlit by the setting sun, that I had to look away and take a sip of my drink. I didn’t know how I thought he would react to seeing me again, but I certainly wasn’t expecting him to be filled with regret.

  “I’m not mad, Star,” David said finally, swirling his champagne idly in his glass as he looked down. “I’m not mad, I’m…sad.”

  “Why are you sad to see me?” I asked, hurt.

  He looked up sharply. “Not sad about seeing you. No, you just, you remind me of home and that makes me sad.”

  I sat back in the chair, my heart heavy. I knew exactly what he meant. “You remind me of home too, David,” I told him, trying to keep my voice steady. “But in a good way.”

  “How could there be anything good about our home?” he asked sharply, stalking over to the window and crossing his arms behind his back. “I left as soon as I could. I completely reinvented myself. I suppose I should have changed my name if I really wanted to cut all ties.”

  “But then I wouldn’t have been able to find you,” I protested.

  David turned on his heel and I saw the anger drain from his face. He opened his arms again. “No, then you wouldn’t have been able to find me. And I’m so glad you did.”

  I went to him, drawn like a magnet to his familiar embrace. Only this time there was something more than brotherly in the way he cradled me close to his chest. As I sighed into his warmth, I felt something unknot underneath my breastbone, a hurt place that started healing the minute he brushed my hair away from my eyes and looked at me. “I can’t believe how you’ve grown, Star,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my forehead. “I always knew you���d be a beautiful woman.”

  His words thrilled down my spine and I shivered. There was a dangerous note in his voice, one that my body was responding to in ways I didn’t want. This was David, my idol, my refuge, but his lips against my skin felt dangerous. He was my safety but there was nothing safe in the way he was holding me.

  I pulled back and looked up at his face. I was so close that I could see each individual whisker on his cheek. The stubble made swirling patterns along his jaw. I felt my finger reach up to trace the pattern before I could stop myself.

  David flinched slightly when my finger brushed against his cheek, but he didn’t move. He didn’t pull away like I had feared he would. I felt his fingers clench into my waist just a fraction, the tiniest flutter of motion, but the possessiveness there sent yet another shiver down my spice. “David,” I heard myself whisper, my voice thick with longing.

  His lips parted, opening and closing several times before he spoke. I could see that complicated play of emotions rippling across his face. He moistened his parted lips, yet another small motion so intimate it hurt my heart. I was staring at his lips like my life depended on keeping them in my sight. “Star…” he murmured, his voice strangled. “I can’t…”

  But the overwhelming power of his lips pulled me to him, cutting off his protest with a kiss.

  I felt my stepbrother stiffen as my lips met his. The jolt of electricity that passed between us startled me and I pulled back in alarm.

  “I’m sorry,” I gasped, clutching my head in my hands. “I’m sorry David, I don’t know why I did that!”

  David was still standing stock still, frozen in place with his eyes closed.

  “I’m sorry, I’ll just go,” I babbled, rushing to collect my belongings before the tears spilled. “Pretend I never came here.”

  “No,” David whispered.

  I looked back at him. His eyes were open, and he was looking at me in an entirely new way. His eyes were darker somehow, dangerous.

  No man had ever looked at me like that before.

  “Come here, Star,” he ordered, and I moved to him quickly, unable to resi
st the force of my stepbrother’s authority. I stood in front of him, clutching my hands together and waited to hear what he had to say.

  But he didn’t say a word. Instead he brushed a single finger down my cheek to tilt my chin upward, ensnaring me in his gaze. He held me there for a moment, powerless to do anything as my heart nearly beat out of my chest.

  And then David’s lips slammed into mine.

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach and I sagged against his chest as he pulled me close, my head cradled tightly in the crook of his arm as he parted my lips with his tongue and began a slow, expert exploration of my mouth.

  I realized then that I had never been kissed. Sure a few guys had put their mouths on mine, wiggled their tongues around in rubbery spasms and then pulled back, but I never felt anything close to what I was feeling now in David���s embrace. Fireworks went off in my head as I melted into him, no longer thinking about how wrong it was that I was letting my stepbrother kiss me. In fact, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. David was my refuge, my safety, so why shouldn’t I love him like this? Why shouldn’t I fancy the only man who had ever been good to me?

  I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him back, matching his passion with my own inexpert desire. Our bodies pressed together, fitting neatly into each other’s arms like two puzzle pieces. I heard a soft moan of pleasure escape my lips, and when it did, David made a gasping noise and pressed his hands to my waist, pushing us apart.

  I groaned and looked at him in shock. He turned away from me and stared a fixed point in the middle distance, his eyes a million miles away.

  “David?”

  “Star, I…” David struggled to find the words as I waited, my whole body on fire from his touch, “seeing you here, again, after all these years, it’s…it’s bringing up a lot of feelings. Feelings I…shouldn’t have for you.”

  “Why?” I asked softly.

  “Because I only ever wanted to keep you safe,” he said, misunderstanding my question. “And those protective feelings I have for you, well…” he cast his eyes down and chuckled ruefully, “well they’re getting a little mixed up.”

 

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