Bastian: A Secret Baby Romance (8 page)

* * *

W
hen 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.”

M
y 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.”

“You look like you’ve lost weight, dear,” Rebekah commented as she arranged herself on the other end of the long couch. It was almost a ritual of hers. She always said that, no matter what. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she looked nothing at all like the noted surgeon and medical school instructor that she is. That’s kind of how she is, and I’ve seen her at work. In the hospital, she’s straight out of Central Casting, all tight figure, icy demeanor, and all business. At home, though, she’s a great stepmom, warm and friendly. “Didn’t the Eastern European food agree with you, Wesley?”

I had to work hard not to roll my eyes. She always did worry about me too much. “Polish food is fine. I just picked up a bit of a bug the last week, and I didn’t feel like eating too often. Powered through on energy drinks and Vitamin C pills.”

She grumbled at my answer, causing my father to laugh. “Rebekah, can’t you see he’s just jerking your chain? Every time you mention his health, he gives you a ration of bull about his eating and bad habits, just to watch you squirm and grumble. Look at him. He couldn’t keep that physique without eating well.”

“He should treat his stepmother better than that, or else I’ll become the wicked stepmother on him,” she teased, “and you’ll be doing your next work assignment in between scrubbing out the kitchen!”

This time I rolled my eyes and chuckled, turning my attention to the television as Father scrolled through the selections. Before he could settle on a program, Winston came in and whispered in his ear. “Really? Excellent news, Winston! Please inform Chef to adjust the meals for four.”

Winston nodded and walked out, and Father turned toward us, “Robin is coming home for dinner as well, it seems. Wow, this will be the first family dinner in what . . . more than six months?”

Mom beamed at the news. “My baby is coming to dinner? Oh, this will be like old times. But Wesley, you have to promise me: no teasing Robin, okay?”

I grinned, burying my feelings at the mention of Robin under a long-practiced mask. “Come on, Rebekah, I haven’t seen Robin since I left for Europe. You can’t expect me to totally behave now, can you?”

“Sorry, Wes, but I agree with Rebekah here,” Father said. “You may not have heard, but Robin has been having a rough time lately. She broke up with her boyfriend not long ago, and she said something about having trouble at work. So I’m sure she’s probably not in the mood for your normal shenanigans.”

Chagrinned, I nodded. “I didn’t know, sorry. I’ll do my best. Sheesh, how many boyfriends is that now in the past year? She sure can pick ‘em.”

“It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Father said, putting an end to my comments. Father knew that if I was allowed, I’d talk about Robin for at least an hour. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to at least get a little bit of TV in before Robin comes home.”

* * *

U
p until that point
, I don’t think I’ve ever had a worse day in my life. Driving up the road toward my parents’ home, the wind whistled through the hole in my windshield, courtesy of a baseball that was now sitting in the passenger seat of my car. Underneath the baseball was something even more painful, a letter from my boss at Venture Robotics that informed me that I was being placed under what was being called “administrative leave,” and what amounted to an unpaid suspension.

I had read the letter twice already, fuming. It was seriously hard not to just rip the whole thing to pieces, or pretend to wipe my ass with the paper. As if what had happened was my fault? Sure, I was the head designer of the part on the drone that failed and caused it to blow up, a loss of over three million dollars. But I knew that I designed the system right. It was the damned military and their hot-shot pilots who couldn’t pay attention to their briefings that destroyed the robot.

Pulling into the driveway, I thought about the perfect storm that seemed to have fallen over my life. First my boyfriend, Tom, had broken up with me by cheating with some bar slut. Then the accident with the drone, then the baseball, what was next?

When I saw Wesley’s truck, the first smile in what felt like days came over my lightly tanned face. My stepbrother and I shared so many interests it was uncanny. He could be exactly what I needed right now. He always had a way of making me smile.

He had his rugged side from being an Army Ranger and all. He technically wasn’t a Ranger anymore, but he still stayed in immaculate shape. One thing you’d never expect, though, is that he did have brains behind all that brawn. It was something you’d never expect if you saw him, being a massive young man that commands respect with his presence. My robotics and his computer engineering often worked hand in hand, and we could bore both of our parents to death with discussions of code and applications of programming.

However, it was clear we had different genes. Wes stayed tan, but my skin is much darker, a gift from my birth father’s Apache heritage, and my eyes are as black as Wesley’s are blue. My hair is a darker, jet black as opposed to the rich brown that Wesley sports.

Grabbing the letter from under the baseball, I stuffed it in the pocket of my bomber jacket before heading to the front door. Winston had the door open and waiting for me before I was even three-quarters of the way up the stairs.

“Miss Robin,” he said, his eyes glancing toward my car. “Shall I have a repair service called?”

“That would be great, Winston, but it’s no rush. I’ll be staying overnight at least. I hope you haven’t rented my room out on Airbnb?”

My joke caused the faintest crack in the butler’s expression, something no one else seemed to be able to do, and his lips lifted into a genuine smile. Even from my earliest days in the mansion, just after Mom had married Gerald, I had always been able to somehow easily penetrate Winston’s exterior far better than anyone else, even more than Wesley. “Not at all, Miss Robin. I will send someone up to fluff the pillows though. Everyone is in the family room if you wish to join them.”

“Thanks, Winston. Have you already adjusted the dinner order? Chef handling it all right?”

“Of course, Miss Robin. He had plenty already, he just had to adjust what you will be having for lunch tomorrow. Your mother had originally wanted cold roast beef sandwiches. Instead the beef will be served tonight, and lunch tomorrow will be different.”

“You and Chef keep this place running, you know that? Thanks again, Winston.”

It was true. While some of the memories were a bit hazy, I remembered what life had been like before Mom had married Gerald. Mom was a good doctor, but she was still paying off her medical school bills, so after my birth father died, things were nowhere near as luxurious as our life was now. Winston and Chef are as much a part of my family as Gerald or even Wesley, and I think Winston, at least, sees me the same way.

I made my way to the family room, my mood brightening as I heard the clash and clang of swords from the television. Sticking my head around the doorway, I watched as Mom rolled her eyes while two men hacked at each other with swords on the television. “Just turn it off when Robin gets here, before they start singing
my cock rages on
,” Mom begged Gerald, who had his eyes glued to the screen. Looking up, she saw my head in the doorway, and with a happy tap on Gerald’s arm, she rose to her feet. “Honey!”

“Hey, Mom,” I greeted, coming in and hugging her. Gerald also held his arms out for a hug, which I happily gave. I don’t know what it was about Wesley and his father not hugging one another, but for me, Gerald always had open arms and a ready hug. “And I see you’re still driving Mom crazy with your love of swords and sandals television.”

“If your Mother can make me sit through hour after hour of cooking shows, I can watch my gladiators hack away at each other. How are you doing, sweetheart? Your mother said you weren’t having the greatest of times.”

I looked from Mom to Gerald, and over to my stepbrother Wes, who was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. I could see that he wanted to come over and hug me too, but he didn’t want to surround me with people. He has always had that almost psychic level of understanding with me, and I could tell he already knew something was wrong with me, even without Gerald saying anything. Scooting over on the couch, he patted the cushion next to him in invitation.

“Sit down and relax,” Wesley offered. “I already promised Mother and Father that I would be on my best behavior.”

I couldn’t help but smile and walk over and flop down next to him, not even taking off my jacket. Wesley had always been a bit of a tease, and most of the time it didn’t bother me. Sometimes I’d even play along and tease back. “So when did you get back to town, Wes?”

“A couple of hours ago,” Wesley replied, throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me into a quick hug. I could feel the warmth of his body against me, and the familiar scent of his aftershave in my nose helped me relax even more. I had never told Wes, but his scent and presence was so comforting to me.

Wes gave me a look and smirked. “Like I said, I promised to behave, so I won’t even try to cop a feel.”

I rolled my eyes. Even when he claimed to be on his best behavior, he still had to get his jabs in. This whole flirting between us started soon after our parents had gotten married, and while I could sense the seriousness of his words, I also knew there was no one in the world I felt safer with than my stepbrother. He usually didn’t even hide his antics from our parents. They seemed to ignore it after a while. Regardless, Wesley had always been the one to protect me, and he always looked out for me when boyfriends would push too far or when I was in any kind of trouble.

“Wes, you wouldn’t know what to do even if you did have a chance,” I teased back, knowing what I said was far from the truth. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Wes was experienced in the bedroom, but it still broke the ice and helped me relax into the embrace. “Besides, I would have thought those Eastern European girls would have worn you out. I heard they have a thing for American bad boys.”

“You know me better than that. I don’t tire out, I’m like the energizer bunny. But in all seriousness, my job description these days isn’t as sexy as it used to be,” Wesley teased back, letting his arm remain around my shoulders. “I mean, what girl doesn’t want a guy who can code in four different languages?”