COWBOY ROMANCE: Justin (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 1) (107 page)

“You’re my knight in shining armor,” she grinned.

“I’m your Navy SEAL in a white t-shirt,” he grinned in return.

They rode slowly, finally making their way home. Something about how the soft moonlight touched the asphalt made the night feel magical to her. She looked over to him, marveling at the way the night light illuminated his face. He caught her looking and smiled, his eyes shining and infinite like the stars.

They pulled their bikes into the back yard quietly. He banged his knee against a potted plant and almost yelped out in pain, but she covered his mouth with her hand.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Dad is a light sleeper.”

She felt his lips form into a smile against her palm. He wrapped his arms around her to bring her closer. Her heart beat swiftly inside her chest, like a bird fluttering inside her ribcage. He pulled her hand from his lips tenderly, kissing it before gazing into her eyes. His blue eyes mesmerized her as he leaned in. Her whole body trembled as he came toward her, as if in slow motion. Finally, he kissed her softly, his lips soft and warm against hers.

He repositioned his head and flicked his tongue against her lips. She kissed him back, opening her mouth to take his tongue in. Though the night had been slightly chilly, they both felt warmer as they kissed with the crickets humming a chorus for them. A noise came from inside, startling them apart.

“I think it was the cat,” she whispered, chuckling.

“That cat adores you,” he responded. “I think…” he looked up at her shyly, “I think I adore you too.”

She couldn’t help but smile, “Let’s not do that, hmm?”

“I’ll try not to be romantic.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled away. “We should go in before Tess gets antsy.”

              He nodded. She grabbed his hand as she walked quietly into the house. The cat meowed softly at her feet. She leaned down to give a few soft pets as she took off her shoes. He raised an eyebrow, but she only held her finger over her lips in a “shh” gesture. He smiled and took off his own shoes, continuing to follow her up the stairs. She turned to wish him goodnight at her door, but he kissed her again with intense passion. They turned the doorknob and stepped into the room together, not unlocking their lips.

              They fell on top of the bed, undressing as they kept kissing.

              “You looked beautiful tonight,” he panted between kisses.

              “I always look beautiful,” she answered with a smirk.

              “And you’re so humble,” he smirked back before kissing down her neck.

              She smiled, her skin electric from his touch. His lips carved a trail down the length of her body, making her softly moan. She felt hypersensitive, every kiss making a ripple effect of tingling pleasure through her limbs.

              “I have dreamt since I first met you of making love to you,” he whispered, looking into her eyes again and cradling her head in his hands.

              “We were just kids when we met,” she responded, lost in the blue of his irises. Even in the dark, his eyes shined.

              “I was sixteen, and you were fifteen. We weren’t too young.”

              “I felt so awkward then.”

              “You were smart and funny and so beautiful. You had this softness that I could see would grow into an even more beautiful woman. Loving you was an investment.”

              She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t felt that way about him, that as for sure. She thought he was the worst. But looking into his eyes, she wondered if she had misjudged him all that time. Perhaps he had a sweetness she couldn’t recognize.

              “I thought about you a lot when I was away. I…”

              She put her finger over his lips again to shush him, “Let’s not talk. Let’s enjoy each other.”

              She kissed him before he could protest. Her legs opened to let him slide in between. His hands trembled as he kissed her back more passionately. She arched into him as he entered her, their bodies fitting like perfect puzzle pieces. She felt completely alive, her blood dancing in her veins and every sense heightened.

              Maybe it felt so good because they tasted each other’s forbidden fruit; still, she felt completely in-tune with him, the rhythm of their bodies in-sync. Time seemed to stand still as they moved together until they climaxed together. This time, he put his hand over her mouth to keep her pleasured moan from waking anyone. They took a moment, lying together and catching their breaths.  He then rolled over and held her close, his heart still beating fiercely against her back.

              “That was great,” she whispered. “You can get the hell out now.”

              He laughed softly, “You’ll have to pry me away.”

              They fell asleep, his arms wrapped around her to protect her against the darkness.

Chapter 4

“Meow,” Tess rubbed her face against Isadora’s. “Meow meow.”

“Go away,” she replied, swatting the cat lightly. “Get away, Sorrow, the Unloved.”

“What? Sorrow the what?” a male voice asked.

“It’s from Tess of D’Urbervilles. I like to call Tessy ‘Tess of D’Upurrvilles,” Isadora said sleepily before opening her eyes fully and shooting up. “Oh my God, that wasn’t a dream.” She searched around her bed for her phone. “Shit, what time is it?”

“I don’t know,” Doran answered, reaching out for her. “Lay back down. Call in sick today.”

“I feel like death, but I really need to go in.” She pushed him away. “Stop pawing at me.”

“I do treasure our time together. You’re so lovely.”

“Not now, Doran. Where is my phone?” Knock, knock. Isadora’s eyes shot to the door as she softly cursed. “You have to hide.”

“Why?”

“Because they consider us brother and sister, and it might not go over well.”             

He rolled his eyes and sank under the blanket, moving between her legs to (she supposed) seem more inconspicuous.

“Hey honey,” her father opened the door. “I was a little worried because usually you’re up for work already.”

“Yeah, I had a…” Doran started kissing up her thighs, “uh… long night. I think I forgot to set my alarm.”

“Yeah, your phone is downstairs. It rang a few times, so I figured you didn’t have it.”

“I’m glad it’s been found. I was um…” he started to kiss in a more naughty area, “worried um… about it.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine. Really… good. Fine.”

“Okay,” Mario raised an eyebrow. “Do you happen to know if Doran got home? He’s not in his room.”

“Yes, hedi…. Oh my God,” she grasped the sheets, then steadied herself. “Sorry, I’m really not feeling well. I think he said he was going to go for a jog in the morning, so he’ll probably be back.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want me to bring your phone up.”

“No, I’ll be back soon. Can you make me some coffee though?”

“Sure, sweetheart. I hope you feel better.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He closed the door. She waited until she heard his heavy footsteps descend the stairs before opening up the blankets.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he grinned.

“You’re pretty bold, handsome.”

“I try to live on the wild side.”

He slid up and kissed her. She gave in for a moment, but quickly regained her senses and pulled away. She kissed his forehead to be nice, then stood to get ready quickly. He watched her, unmoving on the bed. The cat came to lay near him with a soft meow.

“You’re somehow going to have to act like you were outside jogging,” she said, putting her hair in a ponytail. “Do you want me to go into your room and get jogging clothes?”

“I think I’ll be fine. So, are we going to pretend last night never happened?”

She shrugged, “I guess so. It was fun though.”

He nodded, but didn’t speak.

“All right, I’m going to go to work. I’ll see you when I get home.”

He nodded again, saying nothing. She nodded too, then rushed downstairs. She grabbed the coffee Mario made (as well as her phone) and hurried to work. She called Georgia and Fiona, who’d both called (though she was only about fifteen minutes late) to tell them she’d overslept. All she knew was that she didn’t even want to think about what happened the night before. She just wanted to get to work, throw herself into any task she had, and not discuss Doran with anyone.

She somehow avoided both talking about Doran and talking to Adam, keeping focused on her work. Fiona stayed quiet too, staring deeply at her computer and leaving every so often to make calls. Isadora wanted to turn around and tell her all the juicy details, but she couldn’t find the words.

“Did you talk to Doran’s mom?” Fiona asked toward the end of the day.

“Why would I have talked to Doran or his mom?” Isadora replied defensively.

“For one, you live with them; for two, I wanted to know about his dad.”

“Oh. No.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m not.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow, but changed the subject. “I was looking at Doran’s Navy SEAL records, and it said he would go AWOL often. He’d eventually come back with the mission done, but sometimes they didn’t know where he was.”

“What was he doing?”

“I think that’s the point. They don’t know what he was doing. His file does allude to him being an adept killer though.”

“That’s good to know. How did you get his file?”

“Well, I told a bit of a lie and said I was you.”

“Scandalous.”

“I need you to ask his mom about his dad. Okay?”

“Okay. By the way, have you like… noticed anything about the Rosellis and my family? My dad is pretty torn up about the whole thing.”

“I don’t know why he’d be upset. I guess I’ll have to look into it.”

“You should probably be careful, Fiona. This all seems a little sketch.”

“I’ll be fine, trust me. I have my tricks.”

“Now, I need to get out of here before Adam comes over here to talk to me.”

“What? Why? I thought he was your gay boyfriend.”

“That’s the problem. I wanted him to be my straight boyfriend.”

“I don’t follow.”

“He invited me to dinner last night, and I thought it was a date, but he was asking me to be in his wedding.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know!”

“Don’t rub it in. I have to go.”

Fiona waved, chuckling as she watched her friend go. Isadora walked swiftly to the elevator and then out of the building. Her hangover had somewhat worn off, but she still felt off. She wondered if she had been too aloof toward Doran - if maybe she shouldn’t have been so cavalier about the whole thing. Then again, it seemed to just be a one night stand to her. They hadn’t even used a condom.

She froze in the middle of the walkway up to her house. “Oh crap we didn’t use a condom.”

“Isadora, what are you doing?” Angela’s voice came from the house. “Are you okay?”

“Hey, Angela. I’m fine, just got sun in my eyes. Is Doran home?”

“No,” she frowned. “He decided to go off and visit his dad. He was here for less than a week and then left again.”

“He left? What do you mean he left?”

“He left. He was in quite the mood this morning. Do you want a Bloody Mary?”

“Sure.”

Isadora followed Angela inside, now angry more than confused. Angela made her a Bloody Mary that was more Vodka than anything else. Isadora turned it down, asking for much less Vodka. Angela took the hard drink herself.

“I just don’t understand,” Angela whined. “I thought my boy was happy to be home. The look in his eyes when he said he was leaving was so… cold.”

“I don’t know why he would do that,” Isadora sighed, feigning innocence. “I didn’t think he was still close with his dad.”

Angela took a long gulp of her drink as Isadora started recording the conversation on her phone. If Fiona wanted information, Isadora would get it.

“He stays in contact. Seamus has that way about him - always keeping people in his web for when he needs them.”

Seamus isn’t a stereotypical Irish name or anything. “What does Seamus do? I really don’t know much about him.”

Angela rolled her eyes, “Seamus is a ‘businessman.’ But girls like us know what that means.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Of course you do. Your dad’s a Roselli.”

“We’re Rossellinis.”

“No, he’s their youngest son. They didn’t want him to get into the business, so they changed his name, acted like he was an acquaintance of the family.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me this?”

“I only know because Doran told me this morning before he left. I thought your dad was a nice guy.” She took another long drink. “I thought Mario was such a nice guy with a nice daughter and a nice dead wife. And I was so wrong.”

“My mom was nice,” Isadora frowned. “I’m sometimes nice.”

Angela touched her stepdaughter’s hand and mournfully said, “Oh honey, no you’re not.”

With that, Angela finished her drink and stumbled outside to the patio. She pulled a cigarette pack from inside her favorite lawn chair. She smoked in the sun, lounging on the chair and seemingly untroubled.  Isadora frowned, drinking her Bloody Mary slowly. She’d been hit with too many punches to comprehend; the wind had been knocked out of her, and she wasn’t sure she could suck it back in again.

Had her mother known the truth about her father? Was she part of it? Maybe she too was a part of some Italian mob family, and they were married off. Maybe that was why he moved on so quickly. Isadora couldn’t imagine her beautiful, hard working mother being a mob wife… of course, she hadn’t imagined Angela would be a mob wife either. Could Isadora imagine Doran being a mob member?

She felt a twinge of sadness and shame. Angela always told the truth - something Isadora liked about her. If that woman thought Isadora was mean, perhaps she was. She hadn’t even noticed a coworker she’d worked with for many years was gay, and she’d met his boyfriend multiple times. She just assumed Victor was Adam’s roommate because she wanted to be with Adam. Then, when Doran showed her kindness, she dismissed him.

And now he was gone.

She poured more vodka in her Bloody Mary and walked upstairs to her room. Tess walked with her, meowing kind, consoling words. The sorrow guided them both to Isadora’s old yearbooks to look back at those first years of she and Doran’s relationship. She found a picture of herself during her “Bohemian phase” with flowy white dress and multiple necklaces. She smiled genuinely, hearing a joke about some teacher she could no longer remember.

A few pages away showcased a picture of Doran looking clean cut and serious. His styled hair combed up into a sleek bouffant and his shoulders wore a black leather jacket: the portrait of the high school bad boy. She remembered so hating him that she thought of tearing out that page, but she thought it would upset her father. She couldn’t remember, though, a time Doran had really been cruel to her. He could say cruel things to others, and he was a troublemaker, but he had been kind enough to her.

She kept flipping, taking in all the nostalgia. She stopped upon one of the pages with assorted posed “category” pictures. In the center, she and Doran stood together - he smiling, and she close-lipped and wide-eyed. “Favorite Siblings” spelled above their heads in a banner. She recalled taking the picture and not wanting to be in a picture with him. Beneath their picture read in swirling cursive, “Iz, I’m so happy we met and now are ‘favorite siblings.’ You’re the coolest chick I know, so I look forward to many Summers, Autumns, Winters, and Springs with you. Yours, Doran.”

She sighed, leaning against her bed and petting the cat tenderly. Her feelings exploded inside her - she wasn’t sure of where the emotions came from, but she felt horrible. She crawled into bed and began to cry.

Things weren’t going well at all. But, she figured, it couldn’t get much worse.