Hard Fought (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel)(37)

"How...how did it start?" He grins slyly, and I backtrack. "Oh, god, don't tell me. Alright, so Miles is made up, right?"

"No, he's real. They dated for a bit a while ago."

"Wow. How have you managed to keep it hidden for this long? Especially with all the security..."

"That's been the toughest. Check this out, though," he says, delighted. "I rented an apartment in the same building as Miles under my agent's name, so when security drops Bree off at the building, she just goes to my apartment instead. And I hired my own security guard, so he's not going to say anything."

"What if she runs into Miles in the elevator?"

"She did once," he chuckles. "She said it was awkward and she's pretty sure he thinks she's stalking him now."

"Shit, Jack," I laugh. "I guess, um, congratulations? I mean, I think she's great. What are you going to do long-term though?"

"I don't know," he sighs. "I'm tired of not being able to be seen in public. But now with this stuff about her father, I don't want to add any fuel to the fire with reports about his daughter sleeping with her stepbrother. Could you imagine a reporter getting their hands on that?"

"So maybe—"

"No, don't even suggest that. I really think she's it, Lex. She challenges me, you know? I'm always wanting to be better for her. Which is weird, in a way, because she also makes me feel so good about just being who I am."

"You think it's good, feeling challenged?" I ask quietly. "I'm not questioning you guys, I'm asking for me," I hasten to add.

"I like it," he says with a smile. "She knows what I'm capable of, and I know what she's capable of. And when one of us forgets, we remind each other. How long have you been seeing this William?

"About a month now."

"Well, that's great."

"Oh, no, I wasn't asking about him." Jack raises his eyebrows. "It's complicated." Though maybe if there's anyone who would understand, it would be him. Not that it matters anyway. I feel my heart constrict as I remember how Carter looked sitting there with Petra. So easy, so relaxed.

"So you won't say anything?" I punch his arm, and then wince as my fist hits solid muscle.

"Of course not, silly. Is Bree going to be alright? With her dad and everything?"

"I think so. She took it a lot harder when he was disgraced than Carter did. Apparently he saw through their father, but she always idolized him, right up until the scandal and his leaving. Plus she thinks she's the reason the reporter started to dig up dirt on them."

"Why?"

Jack spreads his arms with a grin. "I'm a very desirable man, Lex."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, god. I hope Bree keeps you in line."

"She does. What about you?

"What about me?"

"You look sort of...shitty."

"Gee, thanks, big brother. I just had a late night, that's all."

"Seems like you've been having a lot of those lately."

"Didn't your coaches make you move home because you were partying so much?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Defensiveness. Always a good sign," he says with a joking tone, but his eyes are serious. "Just be careful."





Chapter Twenty-Five



I stand at the edge of the driveway and look around. No sign of Carter or my car. Well, well. Looks like I'm not the only one to miss appointments. From ten feet farther on, Roger waves at me from the driver's seat of the Escalade. I wave back, then stick my hand into my purse to find my phone.

"I'm taking you, ma'am!" Roger says, as he hops onto the gravel.

"Oh...where's Carter?"

"Needed the night off," he explains as he opens the back door for me. "But not to worry, he relayed all the details to me."

"Great," I say with a weak smile. The time in the car with Carter is the only time we really have together now. He's done with physical therapy, and when I'm out and about he always hangs back, watching.

Roger turns the radio on low as we drive to the restaurant. I pull down the hem of my cocktail dress. William took me shopping over the weekend, after he saw that I was wearing clothes from previous designer seasons. He certainly doesn't leave me wanting for anything.

We park in the underground lot and Roger escorts me upstairs. The restaurant, on the top floor of a tall, modern building, has panoramic views of Old Tampa Bay. The hostess greets us, and Roger scans the room. She escorts us to a table by the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I wave to William as he looks up. About ten feet from the table, Roger breaks off and heads to a table behind us, where he can keep track of us without intruding.

"You look gorgeous," William says, brushing a kiss on my cheek. "I was hoping you'd wear that one," he adds, nodding at my satin dress.