Stepbrother Master(35)

Cynthia sat straighter in her chair, smiling brightly. “I’m so glad you two are getting along. I had such concerns.” She looked pointedly at me. “I hate to say it, Ford, but you’re not the easiest man to get to know. I’m glad you’ve been so welcoming to my girl.”

“Just one more thing I love about you, Cyn.” My dad’s voice boomed out over the dinner table. “You’re not afraid to tell it like it is. Keeps us all honest.”

I met Cynthia’s direct stare. “Nothing to worry about here, Cynthia. I think we’re getting along very well.” I lost my battle and cut my eyes to the girl in question. Her cheeks had heated to a bright red. “And I think it’s safe to say that Emma and I have both … let each other in. We spent last week bonding all over the ranch.”

Emma choked on her steak, coughing into her napkin for nearly a minute before shoving away from the table.

“Excuse me. I … I need to go. I don’t feel well.”

We all watched in stunned silence as Emma disappeared down the hallway.

“What in the world?” Cynthia said, rising and following after her daughter.

My dad looked to me, brow wrinkled. “Do you have any idea what that was about?”

I shook my head. “No. No idea.”

We both dug into the remains of the meal, but mine sat like rancid feed in my stomach. Had I pushed Emma too far? I fucked up, that was for sure. I thought that we were sharing an innocent joke, but I hadn’t recognized what she was really feeling until it was too late. She had run from me. Angry or disgusted or maybe even scared … whatever it was, I never wanted to see that look directed at me again. Something cold seeped into my veins. It felt a lot like fear that I’d damaged the trust we’d been building. I cleared my plate quickly and excused myself. I needed to fix whatever I’d just done. And for the first time in a long time … I wasn’t sure of my next step.





Chapter 15


Emma





I beat a hasty retreat to my room and slammed the door. My stomach was still in queasy knots. What had Ford been thinking, dangling our sex life in front of Mom and Russ like that?

But I already knew that wasn't the worst part. All his teasing brought everything into focus, letting me see how wrong our relationship really was. The real question here was: What the hell had I been thinking? What did I expect when I got involved with him in the first place?

Someone knocked. Mom's muffled voice called, “Are you okay in there? Do you need me to bring you anything?”

I tried to pull myself together. “Y-yeah, Mom. I mean, no. I mean … come on in.” She would lurk in the hallway until I let her fuss over me, so I might as well get it over with.

Mom opened the door, her brow furrowed. “Do you feel sick?” She reached out to lay her hand on my forehead. “You don't seem feverish, but you have been looking flushed for a while.”

“Jeez, Mom.” I sighed. For a moment, I regretted inviting her in here to play Twenty Questions. I already felt like I'd time-traveled back to high school—if I wasn't careful, she'd be stuffing me into a stroller soon. “Don't worry about it. I'm fine. It's just, uh … ” I cast around for a change of topic. “All this new stuff takes some getting used to. I guess I just got carried away having fun with Ford.” I mentally kicked myself. “I stayed out in the sun too long, or got too much exercise, or maybe I ate something that didn't agree with me … ” Oh God, why couldn't I stop rambling?

But Mom nodded with an understanding smile. “You never did do anything halfway.” She chuckled. “Even when you really should have. As soon as you tried something, you wanted to master it, come hell or high water. It's great that you're enjoying Montana so much, but next time you go out with Ford, don't push yourself so hard. He's been doing this stuff a lot longer than you.”

I returned her smile, half-hearted and a little sick. “Okay, Mom. I'll try to take it easy.”

She brushed a stray hair off my face. “It's been so nice to see you this summer. I know I'm repeating myself, but I really am glad that you're getting along with your new stepbrother.” She paused, glancing down briefly. “I know it's tough to deal with your mom constantly shuffling new relatives around your life. You've really been a trooper for all this time.”

I interrupted, “Don't blame yourself for—”

“Let me finish, sweetie.” She sighed, thoughtfully rather than impatiently. “What I'm trying to get at is … you're used to that kind of thing. But Ford's not. So he was a little gun-shy when I first got here.”