Gerald looked amused.
"I see we have a budding art critic here," he stated, with an eyebrow raised. "What else made an impression during your visit?"
My cheeks flushed, and I had the sinking sensation of falling into quicksand, but a slight shake of the head from Landon caused me to continue my story.
"I loved just about everything about Bowdoin," I babbled, my cheeks flushing hotly. "We went to a diner on campus and it was so cute. I guess if there was anything that I didn't like, it was they ran out of curly straws for my ice cream shake!" I finished lamely. God, I sounded like a little girl, but fibbing on the fly wasn't my thing.
Gerald chuckled.
"Okay well a shortage of curly straws isn't a big deal," he said. "Boys, was there any particular thing that made an impression on you?" he said, eyebrows raised.
Landon and Cole shared a glance before answering.
"Naw," said Landon smoothly. "Cole and I aren't school types, they all looked the same to us."
"Fine," said Gerald. "Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?" he asked, a pregnant pause in the air. "We can always continue the conversation at dinner, if you like," he said, a gleam in his eye. "You three look a little tired."
I had an ominous feeling, but kept my mouth shut and shook my head no. Cole and Landon did the same.
"No Dad," drawled Cole. "Let's chat at dinner. We need to get cleaned up, we're grimy from driving all day."
"Alright, see you at eight," said my stepdad. "Dress nice, Consuela is serving a five-course meal tonight."
"Um … yeah, okay," said the twins as we retreated to the West Wing. I felt shivery and scared, even as I looked at the broad, reassuring backs of my brothers.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cole
Dinner was a fucking joke. There was barely any conversation, other than Linda's nervous chatter.
"Cole, Landon, I'm so glad you're here," she babbled. "I hope I'll be able to use this time to get to know you better," she said. "Gerald and I both want to get to know you better," she amended.
Because it was true. Gerald Kingsley, billionaire and CEO, had no time for his biological sons. It'd driven Landon and me crazy for the longest time, especially when we found out about Linda and Morgan moving in. I mean, he'd ignored us for eighteen years, his own sons, to suddenly lavish money and time on some little girl whose mom he happened to fuck? What the fuck?
After Violet died, my brother and I had moved in with the intention of degrading Morgan, our new stepsister. There was nothing that would have made us happier than leaving her broken-hearted and pregnant by her twin stepbrothers. Yeah, that's how depraved we were.
But things turned out different, you know what I mean? Life is crazy, throwing you on your head when you least expect it. Because Morgan turned out to be sweet, sassy and sensual, and my brother and I had both fallen for her. At least, I knew I had. My blockheaded twin can be stubborn, but I knew he had a thing for our little sister too, based on the way he smiled at her when he thought no one was looking, the gentle look in his eyes when Morgan was around.
But our diabolical plan was fucked up now. We purposefully hadn't used protection with the intent of getting our stepsis knocked up. Clearly, she'd abort the baby when she realized that we didn't care about her, and hopefully it'd leave her broken and traumatized, a mess for Gerald to clean up. But now, the thought of Morgan pregnant with our baby made me nervous … and excited.
I cornered her in her bathroom after dinner, while Landon was at the gym.
"Cole," she said, giving me a sweet smile. "Please! I'm trying to go to the bathroom," she said, pushing ineffectively against my broad shoulders.
But I wasn't going anywhere, centering my massive bulk in the little space. I pulled out a pregnancy test and held it out.
"Take this," I said roughly. "Now."
Morgan was silent for a moment, looking at the box almost uncomprehendingly.
"I'm not late, you know," she said slowly. "At least, not yet."
"I know," I ground out. "But we've been fucking you non-stop for two weeks now, and you're a fertile young girl. Our baby could be growing in you at this moment."
"But," she said, her cheeks coloring. "I thought that we'd be safe because it was my first time," she said. "At least that's what Landon told me."
"Landon's a liar," I growled. "He tells women anything to get into their pants, but you're probably the only woman we've ever screwed bareback," I snapped.
"Sorry, little sis," I said more gently, when I saw the stricken look on her face. "This is a game that you don't even want to get involved with, and the less you know, the better."
"A game?" she said, disbelieving, her hands rushing to her flushed face. "What game? What are you talking about?"
"Just take the test," I said soothingly, stepping forward and starting to unlace the front ties on her sundress. "Here, I'll help."
"No!" shrieked Morgan, batting my hands away. "I get it, I get it, but can I at least have some privacy?"
"Look Morgan," I said, taking her by her slim shoulders. "This is really important. If you're pregnant, I'd be over the moon, but we need to find out if you are asap so we're not left high and dry," I said seriously.
She looked into my eyes, those big pools of hazel my undoing.
"Brother, I hear you," she said softly. "But a little privacy okay?"
"Fine," I said, stepping backwards, my hands up. "I'll be right outside waiting."
And I nervously shifted my weight from one foot to the next as Morgan shut the door. I heard the toilet flush and it was unusually quiet in there for a while. How long did these tests take again? Wasn't it supposed to be two minutes or something?
"Morgan," I said insistently, knocking on the door. "What's going on in there?"
It was pure silence, making me even more nervous.
"Morgan," I said in a loud voice, banging this time. "What's going on?"
"The door's open," said a small voice.
I pushed open the door and Morgan was sitting on the toilet, looking stunned, the pregnancy test on the vanity. I picked it up and glanced at the indicator. Two stripes. Shit, did that mean pregnant or not? I fumbled with the box, trying to read the instructions.
Holy fucking shit. My brain went into deep freeze and the blood rushed from my body. Morgan was pregnant with our baby, mine and Landon's. A tide of elation ran through me, although it was counterintuitive. I mean, here I am, nineteen years old, with a party promotion business that I run with my brother. The last thing I should want is a baby, but somehow, the thought of this beautiful girl carrying my child made me weak-kneed and sensitive.
"You're pregnant," I growled, stating the obvious.
"Yeah," she said softly. "I am."
"What are you going to do about it?" I ground out. Shit, I needed to be gentler with her, but I didn't want to force my baby on a young girl who might not be ready.
She turned big hazel eyes to me. "Cole," she said slowly. "I never thought I'd be a mom, I mean, I just haven't thought about it at all you know? But after what I've shared with you and Landon, I think … I want to keep the pregnancy," she said simply.
I pulled her into my arms, burying my face in the crook of her neck. She was so slim still, fragile and beautiful, smelling of flowers, and I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.
"Morgan," I ground out. "You won't regret it. Landon and I will be the best dads ever," I promised.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Landon
Man, Morgan was pregnant … with our child. I'd come back from the gym, busting open the door to the room I shared with Cole, to find the two of them cuddling in the big bed. What the fuck? You'd think that on our first day back, with our parents in the house, we'd sleep in separate rooms. It'd be lonely without our little sister between us, but we'd survive. We just needed to ease into the lifestyle, you know? Especially after the fake alarm from Bowdoin.
But there they were, Cole and Morgan with their heads together talking in soft voices, and damn if he didn't have an erection already.
Morgan sat up as soon as the door opened.
"Landon," she said, holding her arms out to me. "Come join us," she cried. She was glowing from within, the happiness almost palpable.
Cole smiled lazily, reclining on the king-sized mattress, and stuffed some pillows behind his head. He was like a fucking Cheshire cat, grinning widely enough to make me suspicious.
"Can it wait?" I asked. "I'm dripping with sweat and don't want to ruin the sheets," I said dryly. But fuck, Morgan looked good enough to eat, and we were just going to mess the bed up anyways, right?