Stepbrother Bastard (8 page)

“
There
’
s
one last free bedroom waiting for you upstairs,
”
Mom tells me, completely
oblivious to my displeasure with her.
“
Between
your sisters and John
’
s boys, we
’
re
at full capacity now!
”

“
Oh
…
You
have kids, too?
”
I ask John, trying to keep up with all the
new developments going off like firecrackers around me. On top of everything
else, there are going to be a bunch of rug rats underfoot?

“
Yeah,
”
John says, heaving a deep
sigh as he settles back in his chair,
“
They
’
re
all around here somewhere. Could never keep track of
‘
em,
to be perfectly honest.
”

“
Right,
”
I smile weakly, trying to
keep calm,
“
I, uh
…
I
’
m
just gonna step out back and get some air, OK? See the rest of the property.
”

“
Take
your time!
”
my
mom says cheerfully,
“
You
’
re
on vacation, after all. Relax. I
’
ll
get started on dinner in a bit.
”

“
Thanks
for the heads up,
”
I hiss at Sophie as I pass her on the way
to the back door.

“
You
got as much warning as any of us,
”
she replies, following me
outside. Anna
’
s already disappeared somewhere, as
she always does.

I
shut the patio door tightly behind me and shove a hand through my dark blonde
hair.

“
What
the hell is going on?
”
I whisper, glancing back at Mom and John
mooning over each other at the kitchen table.

“
Mom
’
s
having a little love affair, I guess,
”
Sophie shrugs,
“
I
didn
’
t
particularly like finding out this way, but
—”

“
With
him?!
”
I cut her off,
“
I
mean, look at him! He
’
s like, a lumberjack or
something. He
’
s not her type at all.
”

“
He
’
s
a contractor, not a lumberjack,
”
Sophie corrects me,
“
And
we don
’
t
know what her type is, if she has one. We only ever saw her with Dad.
”

“
Exactly,
”
I reply fiercely, feeling
suddenly close to tears,
“
She loved Dad more than
anything. Smart, funny, put-together Dad. This guy is nothing like him.
”

“
Maybe
that
’
s
part of the appeal,
”
Sophie says, walking ahead of me down the
patio steps that lead toward the lake.
“
Mom
obviously came back here to take her mind off losing Dad. It makes sense that
she
’
s
drawn to someone totally unlike him.
”

“
How
can you be so calm about this?!
”
I exclaim, catching her slender wrist in
my hand and turning her around to face me.
“
Dad
just died, Sophie. This is
—”

“
Dad
died three years ago,
”
she says firmly, doling out the tough love
I always need and never want from her.
“
We
need to support Mom in trying to move on. We need to try and move on ourselves
too, Maddie. Especially you.
”

“
It
’
s
not like I haven
’
t been trying,
”
I say softly, my voice
cracking with emotion. I feel the fight go out of me as anger gives way to
upset. Fat, salty tears start to roll down my cheeks, and I feel Sophie
’
s
arms enclose me.

“
Hey
now,
”
she says, her voice warm
and soothing,
“
I know you
’
ve
been trying. I know. Just breathe, Maddie.
”

“
God,
I miss him,
”
I
whisper, letting my head rest on my little sister
’
s
shoulder.

“
We
all do,
”
she says, brushing the
hair away from my face.
“
And we probably always
will. But we
’
ve still got to try our best to be
happy, right?
”

“
When
did you get all rational and wise and shit?
”
I ask her, laughing
through tears.

“
Drama
school is basically one carefully controlled nervous breakdown,
”
she says,
matter-of-factly,
“
I
’
ve
worked through a lot of shit. You should try taking a clown class
—
it
does wonders for your world view.
”

“
I
have no idea whether you
’
re joking or not,
”
I say, shaking my head.

“
Me
either,
”
she smiles, brushing a
tear off my cheek.
“
Now pull yourself
together. I think we have company.
”

My
ears perk up as the sound of a revving engine floats across the lawn. Sophie
and I look over toward a wide path leading off into the woods
—
the
sound seems to be coming from over there. As we watch, a cloud of dust starts
advancing on us from afar, at the center of which is a black ATV.

“
Bet
that
’
s
one of John
’
s boys,
”
Sophie says, narrowing
her eyes.

“
That
’
s
hardly a boy,
”
I
point out. I
’
d been assuming that his sons would
be kids for some reason, but the person atop that growling machine is a grown
man. And that hardly puts me at ease.
“
Have
you met them yet?
”

“
No,
”
she says, rolling her
eyes,
“
I
guess they don
’
t care much for the company of women.
They
’
ve
been making themselves scarce since I got here yesterday. This one showed up
just before you, hopped on an ATV, and took off into the woods.
”

“
Charming,
”
I mutter, crossing my
arms as the ATV roars our way.

“
He
doesn
’
t
seem to be slowing down
…”
I hear Anna say from over my shoulder. I
jump at her sudden appearance behind me.

“
We
need to get you a cowbell or something,
”
I tell her, watching as
the loud machine comes charging out of the woods, headed our way.

“
Is
he going to stop?
”
Sophie asks, backing away as the ATV bears
down.

“
I
have no idea,
”
I
reply, grabbing Anna
’
s hand and yanking her
out of its path. She may be a legal adult, but I
’
ll
never stop thinking of her as a kid I need to protect.

The
three of us let out high-pitched shrieks as the vehicle turns sharply in our
direction. It skids out in a clear arc, tearing up the cultivated grass in its
wake, sending pebbles and dirt flying at us as we cover our faces. I glare up
heatedly as the engine cuts out, displaced bits of lawn settling all around us.

“
What
the hell was that!
”
I cry out as the towering figure swings
himself down from the ATV.
“
Last I checked, running
over your houseguests isn
’
t exactly good manners.
”

John
’
s
son turns his helmeted face in my direction, though I can
’
t
see his eyes through the visor. He
’
s
nearly as tall as his dad, and wears a simple black tee shirt with dark jeans.
For a long moment, he stands perfectly still, just staring at me. What is this,
some kind of intimidation technique? Trying to show me who
’
s
boss around here? I lift my chin defiantly, unwilling
to give any ground. He raises his arms to lift off the helmet
…
and
it
’
s
only then that I notice his full sleeve of tattoos. Before I can process
another thought, he removes the helmet and shakes out his dark curly hair,
backlit by the crystal blue lake. His unmistakable hazel eyes bore mercilessly
into mine.

“
You
wanna talk about manners?
”
Cash growls at me, his gorgeous features
hard and unreadable.

“
Oh
shit,
”
I whisper, feeling the breath
rush out of my lungs. Just when I thought this vacation couldn
’
t
get any more twisted
…

Chapter Four

I
gape up into Cash Hawthorne
’
s stony face, attempting
to wrap my mind around what the fuck, exactly, is happening here.

“
What
…
How
are you
…
What?
”
I stammer, as the figment
from last night
’
s salacious dream takes a
swinging step my way.

“
Didn
’
t
mean to spook you,
”
he says, lips twisting into an
unconvincing smile.
“
You city girls are
awfully jumpy.
”

“
And
you country boys are hard to track down,
”
Sophie says from over my
shoulder,
“
Which of John
’
s
boys are you?
”

“
I
’
m
Cash,
”
he replies, his hard eyes
still trained on me. 

“
I
’
m
Sophia,
”
she tells him flatly,
“
The
doe-eyed one is Annabel. And the short one right there is
—”

“
Madeleine,
”
I say softly, holding out
my hand for Cash to shake. I
’
m embarrassed to see that
it
’
s
trembling,
“
Madeleine Porter
”
.

Cash
glances down at my hand, then back up at my face, his wry smile unflinching.
Even I
’
m
baffled by my outstretched hand
—
pretending not to know
him was my first instinct. But did I just do something egregiously wrong?

“
Right,
”
Cash says, ignoring my
hand completely.

“
Let
’
s
…
go see if Mom needs any
help in the kitchen,
”
Anna suggests, looping her arm through
Sophie
’
s.

“
God
yes,
”
Sophie mutters, turning
to go,
“
Hell,
we could use a knife to cut through all this male ego clogging up the air.
”
 

My
little sisters hurry back into the house, leaving me squared off against Cash,
the man I spent last night fucking every which way. The man who also happens to
be the son of my mom
’
s one-time
—
and
likely present-day
—
fling. The man who is
currently looking at me in such a way that tells me I seriously missed the mark
with my morning-after etiquette.

“
I
think I need to sit down
…”
I say quietly, feeling my knees turn to
water.

“
Suit
yourself,
”
Cash
shrugs, shaking out his sweat-slicked curls.
“
You
’
re
our house guest. Apparently.
”
 

“
This
is your house
…”
I
echo, trying to make any of this sink in.
“
But
then what
…
what were you doing at that bar last
night? If you live here, I mean?
”

“
I
don
’
t
live here,
”
Cash
says impatiently.

“
But
you just said
—“

“
My
dad asked my brothers and I to come out here for a couple of weeks. Bit of male
bonding or some shit,
”
he cuts me off,
“
I
was on my way here when I stopped for a drink. Same as you, I imagine.
”

“
So
…
Did
know anything about this?
”
I ask him, sinking down onto the porch
steps.
“
About
us being here? About me
—
?
”

“
What
do you think?
”
Cash
shoots back.

“
I
don
’
t
know
what I think, that
’
s why I
’
m
asking you,
”
I
reply tersely,
“
Could you drop the
asshole act and talk to me?
”

“
What
act?
”
he laughs shortly,
setting his helmet down on the seat of the ATV,
“
This
is just me, babe. Don
’
t know what to tell you.
”

“
You
can tell me why you
’
re acting like a jerk all
of a sudden,
”
I
say, wrapping my arms around my knees.
“
I
’
m
sorry if I didn
’
t handle this morning
well. You know I don
’
t have much experience
with the whole
—”

“
I
honestly couldn
’
t care less,
”
he says evenly. I don
’
t
know him nearly well enough to tell if he
’
s
lying to me.
“
But hey, let
’
s
maybe not mention the fact that we fucked like animals all last night around
our families, yeah? Might make them a little uncomfortable.
”

I
stare up at him, mind reeling along with my heart.
“
So,
what
…
You
’
re
saying we just forget it ever happened? Pretend we
’
ve
never met?
”

“
Isn
’
t
that what you want?
”
he asks, eyes hard on my face,
“
I
mean, wasn
’
t that the plan when you left this
morning?
”

I
bite my lip, willing myself not to start crying again. The only reason I left
without saying goodbye, was that I didn
’
t
want to get my hopes up of something more with Cash. I didn
’
t
want to ruin what happened between us by making an ass of myself the next
morning. But would you look at that? I seem to have done it anyway.

“
I
’
m
really sorry, Cash,
”
I say imploringly,
“
Please,
let me explain. I don
’
t want you to hate me
—”

“
Maddie,
for the love of Christ, don
’
t turn this into a
fucking soap opera. I don
’
t hate you,
”
he snaps, exasperated,
“
I
told you. I don
’
t care. Just drop it, OK?
”

I
hold my tongue, trying to see past the steely mask of indifference he
’
s
wearing. We may not know each other very well, but this isn
’
t
the man I spent all of last night with. He
’
s
icing me out. He thinks I bailed this morning because I wasn
’
t
into it, and he doesn
’
t want to look bad. What
we have here, as the movies say, is a big ol
’
failure to communicate.
But something tells me that communication isn
’
t
going to be Cash Hawthorne
’
s strong suit.

“
Goddammit,
Cash!
”
John roars from the
kitchen doorway. I spin around to see him towering above us on the patio, fists
clenched.

“
Hey
Pop,
”
Cash nods, producing a
pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

“
Don
’
t
‘
hey
Pop
’
me,
”
John growls,
“
What
the hell did you do to my fucking lawn?
”

Cash
glances back at the semicircular skid marks the ATV cut through the grass.
“
Oh
yeah. You
’
re right,
”
he says, lighting up a
smoke. I try not to fixate on his lips as they cradle his fresh cigarette.

“
Fix
it,
”
John snaps,
“
And
put that fucking thing out. That habit will kill you one day.
”

“
What?
”
Cash replies, feigning
amazement,
“
Smoking is
bad
for you?!
”

“
Maddie,
”
John says to me, forcing
a deep breath into his lungs,
“
I can
’
t
slug him without having to foot the bill for a decade of therapy. You do it for
me, OK?
”

“
Little
late for that,
”
Cash
mutters under his breath, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

For
a second, John fixes a look of pure rage on his oldest son. My body goes stiff
with apprehension, and I halfway expect John to launch himself off the patio
and right at Cash’s form. But thankfully, the eldest Hawthorne manages to take
a breath, turns on his heel, and marches away. Before I can say another word,
Cash hops back on the ATV and races in the other direction, toward the garage
—
cigarette
still held between his lips. I, for my part, stand rooted to the ground,
looking plaintively after him as he goes.

“
Well,
”
I mutter, eyeing the deep
tire ruts left in the fresh-cut grass,
“
It
wouldn
’
t
be a Porter family vacation if it wasn
’
t
totally fucked.
”

I
spend the rest of the evening intently chopping up vegetables and herbs for
dinner, trying my damnedest to get a hold of my runaway mind. Of all the men in
the world, I had to have my first one night stand
—
and
best sex of my life, I may add
—
with the son of my mom
’
s
new
“
man
friend
”
?
What are the chances, even
—
a bajillion to one? Now,
I get to spend the next two weeks under Cash
’
s
withering gaze, pretending it doesn
’
t
hurt like hell that he
’
s acting like we
’
re
strangers. I know we only got to spend one night together, but he doesn
’
t
feel like a stranger to me. I felt more connected to and engaged with him than
I have with anyone in years. That can
’
t
just mean nothing, can it?

Maybe
if I
’
d
just told him all that, instead of leaving him a note like an asshole, we
wouldn
’
t
be in this predicament. Of course, there
’
s
the whole weirdness of our parents maybe being an item, but I honestly don
’
t
buy that my mom can stay interested in this new guy for more than a couple
weeks. Tops. By the time we
’
re ready to hit the road,
she
’
ll
have moved onto her next flight of fancy. That
’
s
always been her way.

“
Maddie,
”
my mom trills, lifting a
huge tray of baked potatoes from the oven,
“
Why
don
’
t
you go round up the boys? Everything
’
ll
be ready in a sec.
”