Hard Fought (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel)(7)

"Where to, sir?"

"Um, one second. I'm not sure of the address," he replies, taking out an old flip phone and scrolling through his texts.

"Not going home?" I ask as Roger finally pulls the car away from the curb.

"Well, I guess it's home now. My mom's getting remarried, and this is her fiance's house."

"Oh, that's funny. My dad's getting remarried," I remark. As I hear the words come out of my mouth, my heart skips a beat. It can't be... He's still looking down at his phone. I lower my voice. "What's your last name?"

"Thought we were doing this whole anonymous thing."

"Your mom is getting remarried. My dad's fiancé just moved into his house with her daughter," I recap. His eyes widen.

"No. Oh, fuck," he swears. "Is your last name Stratton?"

"Yep," I answer shortly, leaning back in my seat with a grimace.

"Fuck," he repeats.

"What exit should I take?" Roger asks from the front seat as we speed along the highway.

"It's just going to be one stop," I reply. "Turns out this is my future step-brother."





Chapter Five



The ride back to my house, our house, is awkward to say the least. I have to ask Roger to turn the radio on because the silence is so deafening. If only the music could quiet my thoughts. I can't stop berating myself for making yet another stupid decision. I need some kind of very specific life coach that will take over all the decision-making when it comes to men.

So much for staying strangers. I'm going to be living with this guy! Carter is his name, I remember from my brief talks with Jack. Now that I think about it, I do remember him saying that the brother was in the military, but I thought the brother was the younger sibling, so I was picturing a fresh-faced private, not a bearded, full-grown professional soldier.

I steal a glance at Carter. It goes without saying that we're going to keep this a secret, right? My instinct is that I don't have to worry about him. He seems like he'd be discreet, barring his one confession toward the end of the flight. I wonder if he regrets opening up to me now. Oh, shit. I told him the truth about what I've been doing in Paris. Perfect. Just perfect.

At the security gates to our private neighborhood, Roger leans out and flashes his ID. The guard takes his time looking it over, and for the first time, I notice Carter shifting around in his seat. He's been completely still ever since we figured out the truth of our...relationship.

Finally, we're let in, and I glance out the window at the passing homes, glaringly bright even in the darkness. The measure of opulence is so different here. In Paris, it was quieter, a whisper. Here, people are shouting about their wealth from the rooftops of their gilded mansions.

Roger pulls into the circular driveway and stops at the front door. As he hops out and goes to the trunk for our luggage, I lean over and whisper hurriedly to Carter.

"We first met when we were coming out of baggage claim and you have no idea what I was doing in Paris, OK?" He nods in agreement and I hear the trunk open. "And my name's Alexa. Lex."

I hop out of the car and look up as the front door opens. A very attractive woman with her dark hair worn in a long bob opens the door with a welcoming smile. Anne, I presume, my father's fiancée.

"Hi," she says. "I'm—" she breaks off as she glances to the other side of the car where Carter is stepping out onto the paving stones. She gasps, tears springing to her eyes. She runs toward him, catching him off-balance as she flings her arms around his neck. He rubs her back as she sobs against his chest. I avert my eyes, wanting to give them some privacy. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?" she says, leaning her head back and slapping him on the shoulder.

It never occurred to me to wonder why no one was picking him up from the airport. "I didn't even know until a couple days ago that I was being given the all clear to go home, so I figured I'd just let it be a surprise," he answers, looking a bit bashful.

"But I don't understand," Anne says, glancing at me and the car.

"Alexa saw me at baggage claim and offered me a ride. She didn't realize who I was."

"That was kind of you," Anne says, wiping her cheeks and walking over to give me a hug. "Were you on the same flight?"

"Looks like it," I confirm.

"How funny!" she remarks innocently. I smile ruefully, but I've already decided that I like her. Whether or not I can picture her with my father is a different story. "Well, let's get your bags inside. I'll get it, hon," she tells Carter as he leans down for one of his duffels.

"Mom—"

"Carter," she says firmly, and he relents. I smile and grab the handle of one of my bags. "We can go around the side, Roger. My room's in the boat house."