Stepbrother Broken (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 2) by Colleen Masters Page B

three of ‘ em. Otherwise known as ‘ a
handful ’ . ”
    “ I ’ m
sure, ” I reply, trying not to sound
annoyed. It ’ s bad enough that I ’ m stuck here in the boonies for two weeks. Now I have
to deal with some rowdy trio of country guys smashing beer cans against their
foreheads, and stalking around with BB guns, or … whatever
it is men do when left to their own devices?
    Just
as the silence between John and I reaches the point of being comfortably long,
he turns off onto a long driveway lined with trees.
    “ Here we are, ” he says proudly, “ Home sweet home. ”
    I
peer through the windshield, expecting some rickety lean-to or dilapidated farm
house. But what I lay eyes on instead takes my breath away.
    John ’ s house is a gorgeous, three story masterpiece. It
strikes the perfect balance between rustic and elegant, and through the trees
beyond it I can see a sprawling, crystal blue lake. The house ’ s well-made wooden exterior is a rich, deep brown,
spotted with dark green shutters that — I can ’ t
help but notice — are the same color as Luke
Hawthorne ’ s eyes.
    Get
a grip, Sophie, I
chide myself, You ’ re supposed to be getting over Luke
while you ’ re here, not dwelling on him every
waking moment.
    But
getting over Luke Hawthorne has proven to be easier said than done this past
week. I haven ’ t heard a word from him since our
steamy run-in at The Bear Trap. God, if only our little tryst hadn ’ t been cut short by that awful asshole who was
harassing Danny. If Luke and I had been alone for five more minutes …
    No . It doesn ’ t bear thinking about. If he wanted to see me again,
he would have gotten in touch with me by now. He has my email address, doesn ’ t he? Granted, I also have his, but I can ’ t very well be the first one to reach out. Not after I
acted like such a weirdo at the end of the night. It ’ s time to face the facts: I totally botched my one
shot at getting it on with Luke Hawthorne, and now I have to get over it,
whether I like it or not.
    “ John, this place is gorgeous, ” I finally manage to say once I ’ ve forced Luke Hawthorne from my mind once more.
    “ Thank you, ” the man replies, bringing the pickup truck to a stop
and swinging down from the driver ’ s seat. When I scramble down after
him, I see that he ’ s built like a grizzly bear, tall
and imposing. I can ’ t help but be a little intimidated
by him, to be honest. But after the other night at the bar, I can say that I ’ ve met scarier guys than him. Thank god I had someone
to stand up for me when I did.
    I
follow John around the house, admiring the wide covered verandah that circles
the house. He leads me up the stairs to the back patio, and I pause to take in
the gorgeous view of the lake. The smooth water reflects the horizon back on
itself, each tree, hill, and cloud cast in striking double relief. For the
first time, I manage to give this trip the benefit of the doubt. Maybe spending
some time in such a beautiful place, removed from the stresses of school,
friends, and my baffling love life will do me some good after all.
    “ Is that Sophie?! ” I hear my mother ’ s voice trill from inside the
house.
    Before
I can even turn around, I ’ m being smothered by a cloud of
golden blonde curls and airy, girlish laughter.
    “ Hello to you too, Mom, ” I reply, pulling away from her ardent embrace to get a
look at her.
    No
matter how much time goes by between our visits, my mother never seems to age.
John was right when he said that we look alike. With her slender figure, smooth
skin, and playful blue eyes run through with hints of gold, she looks more like
my sister than my mother. And more often than not, she acts like it, too.
    “ I ’ m
so happy to see you, baby! ” Mom beams, clapping a hand to
her flushed cheek. “ It ’ s
been … God, how long has it been? ”
    “ Just since Christmas, Mom, ” I reply, adjusting my backpack on my tired shoulders.
    “ Here, let me