Burned: A Stepbrother Romance by Kade Teagan

Author:Kade, Teagan [Kade, Teagan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-02T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

We clean ourselves up as quickly as possible, but I’m conscious of the way a cloud of sex seems to follow us when we step back outside into the warehouse.

It probably would have been wise to come out together, but I think everyone knows what’s really going on here. They’re not blind, especially Jay. He’s got a smile so wide on his face there’s no doubting he knows.

He smiles at Brock. “Took your time.”

“Is that a crime?”

We exchange a guilty look.

Brock glances to the other side of the track. “Where’d Hernandez go?”

Jay shrugs. “Just took off. Hell if I know, moody fucker.”

Moody. That’s one way to put it.

“I’ll be back,” says Brock, that seriousness returning. He vanishes out the side door and leaves me with the boys. I cross my legs, my sex still tender and damp.

“So,” I begin, “who’s up for a race?”

*

Brock was quiet on the way home. I made conversation, but it seemed like a one-way street. Didn’t stop us dirtying up the sheets back home, mind you.

I roll over in the morning to an empty bed, rising instead and working my way up to the main house. Dad’s still asleep, lazy fuck, but Michelle’s up.

Her coffee is marginally better than Dad’s. Usually we just sit here watching whatever morning show is boring the nation today, but today she wants to chat. Weird.

“How’s everything going, Maddy?”

I’m taken a little by surprise, but pull my wits together enough to reply “fine” instead of ‘I’m sleeping with your son and running an undercover operation on him at the same time.’

“How’s Brock?”

I always thought Michelle could have shown a little more interest in her son. She seemed content just to let him be and blame any issues on his late father. My dad was the one who was trying to guide him into some kind of stability, but Dad never had the car link. He was a poor substitute, a regular working-class kind of guy who knows nothing about the streets or the way the world really works.

I answer as deftly as I can. “He’s good. He’s great, actually.”

“You two were always very close,” Michelle muses, taking a sip, steam clouding her hairline.

Does she know? “I think he’s changed.”

“What makes you say that?”

I don’t want to have to explain myself, but I feel compelled to defend him. “He’s… stable.”

She laughs. “Stable? Not my Brock. Give him another month and he’ll disappear again.”

“I think it’s different this time. I think he wants to settle down.”

“With one of those car bimbos?”

I picture myself as a ‘car bimbo,’ slathered over my ride in a tight bikini. “Someone… serious, you know? A real girl.”

You’re calling yourself a ‘real girl,’ Maddy?

Michelle takes it in. “I see.”

“Why don’t you talk to him yourself?” I suggest, but it comes across cruel.

Michelle points a finger at herself. “Me? I’m the last person he wants to talk to. He still blames me for his father’s death, you know, even after all these years. And yes, maybe there’s some truth in it.

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