HIM—A Stepbrother Romance: With BONUS NOVELLA: PERSONAL

by Stephanie Brother

  “Sweetie, you own it.” My mom encouraged me.

  “Don’t give up on your dreams. Use your pain. Write again.”

  “What would I write?”

  “Whatever you like? What’s fun to write?”

  I immediately thought about that book I couldn’t put down in the hospital. That hot, trashy, but incredibly satisfying read. Maybe I could write something like that. Maybe that would be something light and fun to do. Lost in my thoughts, my mom snapped me out of my euphoric moment. “Oh, and if anyone can turn things around, he can. Look at him. Look at what he’s done. Be by his side tomorrow night.”

  She slid her cell phone over for me to read an article:

  Bradley Rainshaw is a man of his word. Days after his press conference, after jetsetting in the Maldives with his former stepsister, a scandal indeed, Rainshaw Jr. has shut down the sweatshops in India and has not only purchased the building to resell and oversee to make sure it’s not made into another sweatshop, he has paid every worker’s education and created a new Rainshaw Foundation to ensure weekly food is delivered to the former workers and children.

  “My grandfather’s vision of artisan craft was one of integrity and vision. But it fell in the hands of greedy men looking to expand wide and lower overhead costs to make Americans rich. In retrospect, it caused other lives around the world to be in great harm and created a bad example for other companies. It is not something I will stand for. And it is not something I believe, no, I know, my grandfather would not stand for.” Rainshaw shed a heartfelt tear when delivering his message to the poverty-stricken community where the sweatshops were located.

  “Education is the key to developing a better tomorrow,” says Rainshaw. “I look forward to continuing to work with this community and personally invest my time in seeing these wrongs made right.”

  My heart swelled with pride at his bravery.

  “He reminds me so much of Grandpa,” Claire admitted, wiping at a tear. “I’m so proud of him.” She let out a long, nostalgic sigh and reached for my hand. “Listen, sweetie. No more hiding, okay? Actually, I’m officially banning you as my future sister-in-law from South Africa.”

  “Sister-in-law?”

  “You know it’s in the cards. I’ll send my assistant to pack everything up for you. Emily can come visit you at the manor if you two miss each other. Hell, she can live there if you want her to. Or if she wants to. She’s a model, right? I could use her for my line and help her get connected in the city if you are in that need of a bestie! But look, I’m right here now and I want us to have a closer friendship. I’m not letting you go this time, and I don’t think your mom is, and Bradley especially isn’t.”

  She spoke with the speed of a busy hummingbird who had three espressos for breakfast; she had places to go, places to be, people to see!

  Of course this tenacity and ferocious direction is what made her clothing line and boutique a huge success, but I was not one of “those people” that took orders.

  Claire covered my hand in comfort and my mom covered Claire’s. The warmth gave me the safe feeling to confess my further feelings of doubt. The feeling felt awful at the pit of my stomach.

  “Well…Bradley….I mean, I don’t think we are going to work out. He’s pretty hurt about it. I can tell. I retreated. Told him I wasn’t cut out for this lifestyle. I mean, I can’t…can’t…handle…the….” And then the tears poured down my face and all of my fears surfaced back.

  “Of course it’s going to work out, darling. Love is a risk. Ask yourself, would you regret for the rest of your life if you didn’t try things out with him? And aside from that dear, I hate to sound like I’m throwing you in the deep end to swim in the sharks, but sweetie, you already are in that life style. A fair amount of people already knew who you were because of the show. We are family. You can’t divorce us. But now, well, from your recent trip….” she said delicately and with the kindest tone she could muster. “Well, there really is no turning back now. You are a house hold name now.”

  The lump coiled in my throat and I tried to swallow it down and away. But I couldn’t. As much as I hated hearing the facts, I knew this was the truth. Now what. Did I want to carry on again without him?

  I knew I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I ran away again.

  From him.

  “Bradley isn’t going to let you just get away like that. I know my brother.”

  “That was great. That was perfect! We got the shot!” a voice behind me yelled out.

  “Wh…what? What shot? Was this recorded?” Chills of nerves bundled at the base of my beck traveled down my spine.

  “I’m not wearing a mic, I don’t think it is.” My mom looked confused.

  “But I am! And you, my sweet sister, are going to join the cast with me next season!” Claire beamed.

  “Wait. What?”

  “Yes! This is a way to control the rumors, to control the media. You dive in head first.”

  “I….” My head was swimming. But the look on my family’s faces said it all. They were glowing at the possibility.

  “Honey, in a reality show or not, the world is still going to know your name. People will love you.”

  This was all happening way too fast. I reached for my glass of Rose and drank it in big gulps. I couldn’t just be snapped into this reality show.

  I reached for her hand with gentle care. “Claire, I love you. I want us to have a closer relationship more than anything. For so long I’ve neglected this.” I made a triangle in the air with my finger between the three of us. Mostly out of fear, and of unfair judgment on my part.”

  Claire just stared at me with a glazed look on her face as if I were speaking a different language and not in English. She smiled and nodded, but the information completely passed over her. Bless her heart; she was one of a kind. I could have said I’m jumping off the Empire State building as an experiment to test gravity. In her mind, I was already doing the show, moving home, marry Bradley and having her a nephew or niece she could play dress up with a new line of clothing just for children.

  I couldn’t help but to laugh. Oh rich people.

  “You two both know the show has to have written consent and signed legal paper work signed by me for the scene to be aired on the show, right?”

  “Of course we do, darling. There is no pressure.” Mom gentled cooed.

  “Of course, that’s why we’d get you really drunk. Then you’ll sign it!” She winked. “Look, you lost a career, now gain a new one. Show the world how smart you are. Start a blog. Heck, do it this week. Like, now. Like, right now.”

  “It’s a lot to think about.” I continued drinking my liquid courage. A server immediately came to our attention and refilled our glasses once he was oh-so-well-aware of the cameras around capturing the scene.

  “Well, here’s to not thinking.” She toasted me as did my mom.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

  “Sure it is. Bottom’s up.” Claire teased.

  Feeling emotional and tipsy, I knew I had to say it. “Mom, I’m sorry for judging you. For running away. For not being there for you as a daughter.” I had to get it out. It was weighing on my chest so heavy.

  “You’re here now. And that’s all that matters, sweetheart. Let’s just enjoy this lunch then do what we do ladies do best.”

  “Shop. Then spa day.” Claire cried out.

  I could use a spa day. I sure could. It was the only thing to calm these nerves and Lord knew I had enough of them to light the entire world up with electricity.

  Later, all throughout my deep tissue massage, I thought of the perfect way to express my feelings to Bradley. I would write him a letter—that way everything I wanted to express, I could and would.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Kate

  Dressed in the gold Givenchy gown Bradley promised he had for me days earlier, I felt like magic. It reminded me of Belle in The Beauty and the Beast, but a much sexier version. Even with my mother’
s former position and access to such wealth, I had never been to Paris. Ever.

  Now, standing in a grand building with high ceilings and historic stonewalls dressed with original artwork from the renaissance, I felt something stirring inside of me—a desire to join the art and bravery of men and women in the past.

  Had they not been brave to dip their pant brush into the array of colors allowing inspiration to lead to creation, the beautifully framed art would not be hanging today.

  I wonder if you knew millions of people who lived after you, generations later, would travel all over the world just to stare at your brilliance, I pondered, asking the artists silently.

  The masses.

  My chest tightened, the familiar feeling of anxiety traveling up my airway and to my throat. It was the panic of being seen by the world.

  But he made me feel better. He made me feel brave.

  He made me feel like I could do anything.

  He made me feel safe, protected.

  Seen.

  I knew I could take baby steps and perhaps with a good therapist and support system, I could embrace this life and stay on the positive side of wealth and fame. I could make a difference, too. It was a lot to process and to think about, but the way our bodies gelled, the way he felt right, I had to pursue this. The years and years of pure lust I felt towards him; the floodgates had opened and there was no turning back. It was more than a childhood crush; it was love.

  I lost my academia world.

  I lost control of my reputation.

  And that was something I needed to get used to: the lack of controlling things and being more free, for once. He taught me that.

  It was torture waiting to see him again. I wanted to tell him how I felt. With the support of my mother and Claire, I could brace any media storm or frenzy, at least I would try my best even if I had the occasional breakdowns.

  I wouldn’t let the judgments of others, not even my own father’s disapproval, keep me from love.

  Bradley

  There was one thing on my mind and that was seeing her. Now. I made sure her gown was delivered to her room. Regardless of how she felt, there was a gift I wanted to give her. So much I wanted to tell her, say to her, comfort her in the middle of this media storm.

  As soon as I made my way into my presidential suite, a sealed envelope laid on the table for me.

  Bradley

  A poem, for you. By me.

  For you

  The doorbell of her soul rang

  Unknown music to far away places

  Closer than her own heartbeat

  In another plane

  In another dimension

  Soul ties untied for all time

  To dive in the sea

  To revel in his kiss

  To seal the fate forever

  With just one taste

  With no hurried action

  At just the right time

  You’re mine

  Dear Bradley,

  I may not be the best with spoken words, even in this tumultuous time. But spending days away with you in the middle of the world, in the waters of the most magnificent seas, you set my soul to rest. It wasn’t the backdrop of luxury, it wasn’t the rich lobster and the finest of wine; it was you. You made me feel different. You made me believe in me. You made me believe in us and what could be if let my guard down and let go of what other people think.

  You’re the perfect package and has always been. What you did in India showed shimmers of your character. It made me stand in awe of your radiant brilliance. I don’t know of a man of such great wealth, inheritance, and with your family’s last name on the line, who would have done what you did this week with that sweatshop.

  I just know you’re the type of man I’d want to follow.

  So, I’m ready, Bradley.

  Let’s do this.

  You have my hand.

  You have my heart.

  With you I experience so much adventure.

  Jail.

  A blizzard that kissed the sea.

  The world knowing my name.

  You make me brave. You make me want to live life courageously dangerous. I’m not perfect and don’t expect you to be, either.

  But I was crazy about you before I even met you. The feelings I had for you were teenage hormones that blossomed and matured to what I know now as real love.

  I just wanted you to know.

  I’ll be by your side tonight.

  I may be trembling and feel like running and hiding, but you make me want to be brave and face my fears.

  Kate

  I paced the grand ballroom like a nervous family member awaiting news in a hospital waiting room. Had he changed his mind about me? Was I too much? Too emotional? Too analytical? Too frail?

  Finally, my phone buzzed. I nearly dropped it from my sweaty palms.

  Bradley: Meet me in my suite, please. I’m here.

  My heart billowed, pounding in my ears as the adrenaline of seeing him again spun down my body. Utter excitement even buzzed down into my tippy toes like electricity.

  I felt like I was in a ball and leaving the boisterous scene to be with a forbidden lover. A tall bulky man dressed to the nines offered me his arm. “Miss Meadows, Bradley would like me to take you to his suite.”

  My heart swelled so big I swear it would burst. I hope he had read my letter. I pinched my arm because I felt so happy; it almost felt like a sin.

  It was torture waiting for the elevator to stop five times on the way all the way to the very top to the penthouse suite. My cheeks flushed, my nipples hardened, my panties dampened thinking about him. Thinking about us. Thinking about how he made meel in his arms just in a gentle caress.

  I just wanted to run into his strong arms as soon as I would see him like a crazy school girl in love.

  Finally the doors opened.

  There was the man of the hour, spinning around on the heel of his thousand dollar shoes. He took my breath away in his tux. Crisp white button up shirts always looked so sexy against his tan skin and aqua eyes.

  I hadn’t even realized I took a step out of the elevator; I felt like I was floating to him in a dream. It was that much of an out of body experience. I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to this.

  It was him!

  Bradley Rainshaw, Jr.

  “You came.”

  “Of course I did.”

  His lips crashed into mine and I melted into his arms.

  “What you did for those children, I…” It was all I could think to say first.

  “Shhh…we’ll talk about that later.” His lips trailed down my collarbone.

  “Off. Take this off now.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  Thirty minutes later, lying in a suite I never thought I’d ever be in, lying next to him in the city of love, we were two beings in love.

  There was no doubting this connection.

  “I have something for you.”

  I watched him in the grand, gold baroque mirror as he draped the most beautiful diamond necklace over my naked body. I felt so admired, special, cherished.

  “You are a woman to be admired, loved, adored, and adorned.”

  His warm husky voice sent chills down my neck. My hands rested over the necklace that now rested over my cleavage. It was a yellow diamond.

  “For my yellow rose of Texas.”

  My breath was caught. I’d never been in position of such jewelry in my life. Sure my mother had, but I never even bothered wearing her gigantic diamond once.

  My jaw dropped and I couldn’t stop staring at the sight.

  “You look so ravishing, I could eat you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Later, and two panty changes after, my cheeks were flushed from the third orgasm he gave me, as he was a man of his word. I’d have to show him my thank you later tonight, in bed.

  As he led me down the hallway to the elevators and to the grand entryway where my mom and Claire stood dressed to
the nines, he asked me. “Are you ready for them all to talk?”

  “You can talk about me behind my back, but at least you’re talking.” I winked at the TVnetwork cameras in the corner of the room. My mom gave me a thumbs up and her face was as bright as the sun. No, I wasn’t sure if I was going to sign up for the show or not, but at least we had these moments of footage captured for us. And for that I was grateful to be with my family.

  To be with him.

  My life had taken a complete 180 so fast and it felt good.

  It felt good to be with my mom again. It felt good to be with my sister.

  And it felt good to be with him.

  Him.

  “Come on, babe. I can’t wait for the world to see you by my side.”

  World, here we come.

  Me.

  And him.

  Finally.

  Epilogue

  Four years later

  “You have dozens of New York Times best sellers, Kate. You are quite prolific.” I never grew tired of hearing such reminders of my literary success. It still felt surreal. Heck, everything still seemed surreal. I glanced down at my finger, the gigantic sparkling diamond smiling at me. My free hand rested on my growing belly and the life that was cozily dreaming inside of me. I felt the greatest ball of energy surround me: bliss. He, she, and me. My daughter growing inside of me.

  “May I ask…the bravery? You write dirty romances, which some reviewers slam as mommy porn. Is this something you saw yourself doing back in South Africa where you studied the naturalist poets?”

  “You know, it’s not. But I’ve found a way to express myself. Wait, let me rephrase. I didn’t know I had this need or desire to express myself like this, until I just began to do it as an outlet and need to write. It honestly just came out and I’ve had fun with it ever since.”

  “You don’t write under a penname. Considering your husband’s position now, you are not leery about this?”

  “I learned a long time ago that running from your last name, or hiding didn’t do me any good. I want to be authentic. I want women to embrace their sexuality and be proud, not ashamed. Thank you.”