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Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance(78)

By:B. B. Hamel


“I’m so happy you two could finally meet,” Dad said.

“Me too,” she added, nodding.

“Well, it’s about time I meet my dad’s new wife.”

She laughed, a little embarrassed. “We are sorry about that, Alexa. We could have invited you.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m just giving Dad here a hard time.”

He frowned. “We really are sorry, honey. It’s just, after Cindy’s company bought mine, things happened fast. And the press hasn’t exactly been kind to our relationship.”

I caught a dark look cross Cindy’s face, but it quickly vanished. I knew what Dad was talking about, though. I’d read some rumors about the two of them, rumors that he was kept around only because he was Cindy’s new “boy toy” or something like that. Apparently, them getting married was a pretty huge deal and had the potential to screw the whole merger up.

Fortunately, so far things had worked out. But I could tell that Dad was stressed, even from seeing him for just a few minutes. Not as stressed as he usually was, but still. There were lines around his eyes, and he looked like he hadn’t been sleeping enough.

“We’ve gotten a lot of bad press,” Cindy added. “But it’s been worth it.”

I smiled as she kissed my father.

“Okay, enough of that,” I said, laughing.

Dad beamed, his new bride on his arm.

Things seemed like they were going to be okay. I had been so nervous for this meeting, so torn up about it, but Cindy seemed perfectly lovely.

“You know,” she said, “my son should be here soon.” She checked her watch. “But he’s late, as usual.”

“Honey, you were in Thailand, right?”

“Dad, you know I was. You paid for the whole thing.”

“Well, that’s where her son’s been for the last year. You two can bond over that.”

I shrugged. “I was only in that resort. I barely saw the country.”

Cindy waved her hand. “He’s been in the jungle or something equally crazy, so I doubt he knows much more than you do.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What was he doing there?”

“Training, I think. He’s a mixed martial arts fighter.”

“Wow, that’s pretty amazing,” I said.

“I suppose.”

As if on cue, the sound of a loud motorcycle roaring down the street filtered in through the open windows.

“Speak of the devil,” Cindy said. “I bet that’s him.”

Just as the noise of the engine peaked, it suddenly cut off. I followed Cindy and Dad over to the front door. We stepped outside onto the front stoop.

I’d never had a brother or a sister before. I had to admit, I was looking forward to meeting him. I hadn’t realized that Cindy had kids since nobody mentioned him in the press, but it wasn’t surprising. I knew Dad wasn’t her first marriage.

I watched as a tall, muscular man stepped off a black-and-chrome bike. He reached up and pulled the dark helmet off.

My eyes widened and I took a step back.

That night almost a year ago came rushing back. The moonlight through his hair, the cocky grin as he walked down the beach with me.

“Alexa,” Cindy was saying, “this is Cole, my son.”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even move.

It was him. It was my stranger, my husband.

My stepbrother.

I was horrified. I couldn’t move.

“Alexa,” he said, grinning hugely and walking up the stoop toward me. “Good to meet you.”

There was something playful in his eyes, something knowing. He definitely recognized me, there was no doubt about it, but he was pretending for our parents’ sake.

“Uh, sure,” I said, shaking his hand. I hadn’t gotten myself together enough for more.

Everything about him was so familiar. All those moments came rushing back to me. The ache of my body, our limbs stretched out together, the warm sand under my feet as he laughed and threw seashells into the waves.

My husband was back.

I was so damn close. I was so damn close to getting away from him.

“I look forward to getting to know you better, stepsister,” he whispered.

I could only stare at him, wide-eyed in terror.





2





Cole





It was humid as hell the first night I saw her. I was sweating in my button-down shirt and shorts as I made my way down to the beach, bored of the drunk tourists.

Thailand wasn’t a vacation for me, even though I was staying at a resort. It was my last hurrah before the next year, a final week to blow off steam before I went into hardcore training mode.

My two main goals were pussy and alcohol, not necessarily in that order. I knew I was going to have to abstain from everything when the real work began, but I was going to indulge as much as I could all week first.