Stepbrother Bastard (24 page)

“
That
’
s
it,
”
I mutter, pulling onto
the shoulder of the highway as the menacing forces of nature tear at my beat-up
car. I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, my mind reeling. I can
’
t
drive halfway across the state through a crazy thunderstorm for a man who hasn
’
t
even said he still wants me. A man I shouldn
’
t
even be with in the first place. I
’
m
acting like a crazy person. A crazy, reckless person just looking for
heartache. If I had even an ounce of sense, I
’
d
turn around and head home right this second.

Just
as I flip on my turn signal, preparing to make a U-turn, a twanging guitar riff
sounds out from the speaker as a familiar, unmistakable voice croons
…

“
As
sure as night is dark and day is light

I
keep you on my mind both day and night

And
happiness I've known proves that it's right

Because
you're mine, I walk the line
…”

My
mouth falls open as Johnny Cash goes on singing about his will to
“
Walk
the Line
”
for the person he loves.
All at once, a wild, ringing laugh rips out of my throat.

“
All
right, universe,
”
I crow, slapping at the steering wheel as
amazed, excited tears well up in my eyes,
“
I
get it. I think you may have just jumped the shark, but I get it.
”

Pulling
carefully back onto the highway through the torrential downpour, I maintain my
course for the small Washington town that Cash calls home. This visit could be
a triumph or a disaster, but at least I
’
ll
always be able to say I threw caution to the wind
…
and
all the other elements, too.

I won
’
t
come begging to your doorstep either, Cash Hawthorne
,
I think to myself, peering through the rain-splattered windshield,
But at
least I
’
m gonna show up, for
once.

Chapter Eleven

I
cut my headlights and force a deep breath into my lungs. Though the storm has
let up some in the past few hours, the raging tumult in my heart has only grown
wilder. This is the last remaining moment before I
’
m
forced to make my final decision; the last chance I have to turn tail and run
away as fast as I can.

But
as bruised and baffled as my heart may be, it won
’
t
let me betray myself like that. Not after all this.

With
trembling fingers, I cut the engine and sink back into the driver
’
s
seat, staring straight ahead at a modest brick building filled to the brim with
motorcycles in various states of disrepair. And as I keep my eyes trained on
the open door of the shop, a familiar figure strides into view.

My
breath catches in my throat as I lay eyes on Cash. Though it
’
s
hardly been more than a week, my body rallies as though we
’
ve
been apart for a decade. He
’
s alone in the shop,
working methodically on a bike as the rain pours down outside. His
collar-skimming curls are even more distinct in the heavy summer air, falling
across his forehead as he works. The muscles in his arms flex with each turn of
his wrench, and every cell in my body remembers what it
’
s
like to be worked over by him.

But
although I
’
m catching a glimpse of Cash in his
element, the one place on earth where he should be most at peace, I can
’
t
help but notice the tightness of his jaw. The furrow in his brow. Something is
troubling him, weighing down his mind even in this moment of solitude. It may
be presumptuous
—
conceited, even
—
to
imagine that he may be thinking of me. Of us. But if he
’
s
as wrecked by what
’
s happened as I am, at
least we can offer each other a spot of comfort, just by being face to face
once again.

Before
my rational mind can stop me, I push open the car door and step out into the
downpour. I race across the lot, the warm summer rain soaking me in seconds. My
heart beats out my marching orders, sending me flying toward Cash as fast as my
feet can carry me.

“
Cash!
”
I cry out, his name
swelling inside of me, unable to be contained.

He
looks up from his work, his hazel eyes blazing with recognition. I watch his
mouth fall open as he rises, a look of amazement coming across his gorgeous
face. I skid to a stop beneath the tin awning of the shop, my soaking wet body
framed by the open door. For a long, silent moment, Cash and I stare at each
other across the threshold, entranced by the sudden presence of the other.

“
Maddie,
”
he breathes, testing my
name in the rain-scented air.

“
H-hi,
”
I stammer, a tentative
smile playing across my lips,
“
It
’
s
so good to see
—”

“
How
—
What
—”
he says, taking a step
toward me,
“
What are you doing here?
”

My
stomach flips over as he stares at me, clearly taken very much off guard by my
sudden appearance. Now it
’
s my turn to be confused.
“
I,
uh
…
My
job sent me,
”
I
reply, trying to jog his memory,
“
About
the campaign? The interviews, or
—”

“
Wait,
”
he cuts me off, cocking
his head,
“
Just wait a second. You
’
re
here for work?
”

“
Yes,
”
I tell him, trying to
keep from quivering. I don
’
t think it
’
s
just my wet clothes that have me shaking. It
’
s
the uncertainty about whether Cash is even happy to see me.

“
That
was
your
agency that called this morning?
”
he goes on, shoving a
hand through his hair.
“
Why didn
’
t
you just
…
Why
didn
’
t
you tell me you were coming?
”

Did
Allie conveniently fail to mention that I
’
d
be the one arriving on Cash
’
s doorstep this
afternoon? Typical.

“
It
’
s
a really long story,
”
I breathe, steadying myself against the
doorframe.

“
Sounds
it,
”
Cash says, his expression
unchanging.
“
But let me see if I
’
ve
got the short version right. You
’
re
not here because you want to see me. You
’
re
here because you think I
’
d look good in a denim
ad? Is that about the gist of it?
”

“
No!
”
I exclaim, hurt by his
assumption.
“
You honestly think I
’
m
just here for work?
”

“
What
else?
”
he asks, crossing his
arms,
“
It
’
s
not as though I
’
ve had any word from you,
so how should I know?
”

“
I
haven
’
t
heard from you either,
”
I reply heatedly.

“
Of
fucking course not,
”
he shoots back,
“
You
made it pretty damn clear that what you wanted was time alone. To
think
.
I may not be the brightest man around, but even I know what that means.
”

“
Cash,
please
…”
I murmur, bracing myself
against the doorframe.
“
Just listen to me. I know
I shouldn
’
t have left you like that, without
any explanation. Without any answers. But I did need to think. Because what I
feel for you
…
it deserves to be thought through. It
’
s
too important to leave up to chance. We have to choose, Cash. If we want each
other, then we have to choose each other. We owe ourselves that much.
”

He
lets his eyes trail down along the length of my body, his inked chest rising
and falling hard. M
y heart swells dangerously with hope. One
harsh word from Cash, and I know it will shatter to pieces. When he speaks, his
voice rakes along the bottom of his register in an impassioned growl.

“
I
chose you the first night we met,
”
he tells me, bringing his
searing hazel eyes to mine.
“
So. What do you say,
Porter? Do you choose me, too?
”

“
Cash,
”
I breathe, my knees going
weak beneath me,
“
You
…
You
must know the answer to that.
”

“
I
don
’
t
know a damn thing,
”
he replies firmly,
“
Not
anymore. I need an answer. Why are you here?
”

My
lips part as my brain reels through possible answers. I
’
m
here because I don
’
t know how to leave well
enough alone. I
’
m here because I heard a
song on the radio and thought I
’
d take my chances. I
’
m
here because even though I know better, I still have a nasty habit of courting
disaster, I guess.

But
I know that no answer my mind can produce will be good enough for him, in the
moment. He wants the truth. My truth. And that is something that only my heart
can provide.

“
I
’
m
here
…
.
”
I begin, my eyes stinging
with sudden tears,
“
Because I need to be,
Cash. Because I need to be
…
with you. I choose to be
with you, if you
’
ll have me.
”

He
draws a deep breath into his lungs, drinking in my answer. I watch the truth
wash over him, filling him with certainty.

“
I
was hoping you
’
d say something like that,
”
he growls.

In
two long paces, he
’
s closed the space
between us. He strides across the shop
’
s
threshold and enfolds me in his arms. I give my body over to him at once as he
brings his mouth to mine. He spins me around, pushing me against the brick wall
beside the shop
’
s doorway. The taste of
him as he kisses me harder and deeper than ever is like a revelation to me. I
bury my fingers in his curls as he holds my face in his work-roughened hands,
pinning me against the wall with his powerful hips. Rain courses down over the
edge of the tin awning as thunder rattles overhead. But after a week of torment
and heartache, I finally feel like I
’
ve
reached the eye of the storm here in Cash
’
s
arms.

“
I
missed you so much,
”
I gasp, as he pins my hands over my head,
kissing along my throat with ardent need.

“
You
have no idea,
”
he
growls, as a low moan rises from my throat.

I
can feel the raw, searing need for him coursing through my very blood as my
heart pumps wildly. How could I have ever doubted my body
’
s
response to this man? This gorgeous, singular man? I arch my back as his kisses
along my collarbone, pressing his lips to the soft rise of my breast.

“
I
hope you
’
re
the only one working here today,
”
I breathe, grinning
wickedly as rivulets of rain water course down my skin.

Cash
raises his eyes to mine, fiery want smoldering there in his hazel-tinted gaze.
In response, he grabs me by the hips and pulls me up into his arms. I wrap my
legs around him, pressing my lips to his as my short pencil skirt bunches
around my hips. Without another word, he carries me over the threshold of the
shop, slamming the door behind us.

* * *

“
How
do I look?
”
I
ask Cash, stepping back into the shop
’
s
private back office from the adjoined bathroom.

He
turns around to face me, buckling his belt. His rippling, shirtless torso is
still flushed from our vigorous reunion on the office
’
s
well-worn leather couch. A smile spreads across his face as he takes in the
sight of me, standing before him in nothing but his white tee shirt and a pair
of navy blue cotton panties.

“
Very
nice,
”
he laughs, as I do a
little spin for him,
“
It
’
s
a good look for you, Porter.
”

“
Why
thanks, Hawthorne,
”
I reply, settling back down on the trusty
leather couch,
“
It
’
s
nice, having something dry to wear.
”

“
You
were pretty eager to get out of those wet clothes in the first place,
”
he teases me, sitting
down and pulling me onto his lap.

“
Excuse
me,
”
I laugh,
“
But
I seem to recall that you were more than happy to get me out of them.
”