Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Partner
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A n ominous creak sounded on the porch outside, and I quickly grabbed the TV remote to turn down the volume. For the umpteenth time that night I trained my ears to pick out any suspicious noises from the many unfamiliar sounds that continued to freak me out in my new place.
I picked up the phone, always close at hand, and contemplated calling Matt. He’d come in his uniform and make enough noise outside that the whole neighborhood would know I had a cop on speed dial. Then he’d come inside and make a big show of checking the closets and under my bed, just like he’d done when I was kid.
Worse, he might bring his cute partner, and once again Logan would be reminded I was a nut bag who jumped at every creak in the floorboards.
As the noises continued, I dipped beneath the afghan blanket and pulled it up to my neck. I’m twenty not seven. Get a grip. I can do this.
A skittering of tiny feet sounded from the kitchen. “What the fuck?” I bolted from the couch and quickly hit my brother’s number. I’m seven. I’m a wuss. Matt, please answer.
Since they’d just finished their shift, both men showed up in their dark uniforms and tromped through the house, checking every place an intruder could hide, naturally coming up with nothing, and cracking jokes about my housekeeping skills.
“It’s no wonder the house creaks. It’s trying to escape.”
“Ha Ha.” I rolled my eyes at Logan whose gaze was expectant. I was beginning to think he liked annoying me, just to see my reaction.
Matt emptied the contents of the paper bag he’d brought inside onto my counter.
I stepped closer to peer over his shoulder. “What’s that?”
“It’s a mousetrap.”
I grimaced, eyeing the trap. “I want him caught, not tortured.”
“Tough. Don’t you worry about a thing, Jenny. I’ll place it out of sight and check it for you.”
I gave him a glare for using that tone. The one that implied a patronizing pat on the head. When would he see me as more than just his annoying little sister?
Logan stood behind him, his mouth tightening as though trying not to smile.
I narrowed my gaze at both men. Now that I knew I was safe, I could be my bratty self. I flounced onto the couch, suddenly aware I’d been standing around in large t-shirt that ended at mid-thigh, and that my breasts were beginning to tingle. In another moment, my nips would spring, and then they’d both get a hint of my innermost secret. I pulled the afghan up to my shoulders.
But rather than leaving right away, the two men sat on either side of me, both wearing smirks.
Matt tucked a finger under my chin and turned my head toward him. “You need a roommate. If you were busy in the evenings, you wouldn’t get so edgy.”
I snorted. “I tried that in college. I don’t get along well with other girls. They’re too catty.”
Logan grunted. “It’s because they’re jealous.”
I turned to study his expression, which quickly shuttered. “Why would they be jealous?” I asked, pretending innocence, just because I wanted a compliment, something to tell me he might be even a little bit interested.
“Don’t be coy,” he said, shaking his head. “You know you’re gorgeous.”
It was the first time Logan had said anything about my appearance. I’d begun to think he just wasn’t into my type. Apparently not. His face might not be giving much away, but his gaze was sliding over me. Slowly.
Warmth crept into my cheeks. Did Matt know Logan was interested? Did he care?
My naughty fantasy, the one I frigged myself to nightly, suddenly didn’t seem so impossible—if only Matt saw me as an attractive, available woman, too.
Matt cleared his throat. When my gaze darted back, he was giving Logan a dark frown. Interesting . Not one to waste an opportunity, I let the afghan fall to my lap and stretched my arms high above my head, arching my back as I drew in a deep breath, knowing my breasts pushed against
‡
A n ominous creak sounded on the porch outside, and I quickly grabbed the TV remote to turn down the volume. For the umpteenth time that night I trained my ears to pick out any suspicious noises from the many unfamiliar sounds that continued to freak me out in my new place.
I picked up the phone, always close at hand, and contemplated calling Matt. He’d come in his uniform and make enough noise outside that the whole neighborhood would know I had a cop on speed dial. Then he’d come inside and make a big show of checking the closets and under my bed, just like he’d done when I was kid.
Worse, he might bring his cute partner, and once again Logan would be reminded I was a nut bag who jumped at every creak in the floorboards.
As the noises continued, I dipped beneath the afghan blanket and pulled it up to my neck. I’m twenty not seven. Get a grip. I can do this.
A skittering of tiny feet sounded from the kitchen. “What the fuck?” I bolted from the couch and quickly hit my brother’s number. I’m seven. I’m a wuss. Matt, please answer.
Since they’d just finished their shift, both men showed up in their dark uniforms and tromped through the house, checking every place an intruder could hide, naturally coming up with nothing, and cracking jokes about my housekeeping skills.
“It’s no wonder the house creaks. It’s trying to escape.”
“Ha Ha.” I rolled my eyes at Logan whose gaze was expectant. I was beginning to think he liked annoying me, just to see my reaction.
Matt emptied the contents of the paper bag he’d brought inside onto my counter.
I stepped closer to peer over his shoulder. “What’s that?”
“It’s a mousetrap.”
I grimaced, eyeing the trap. “I want him caught, not tortured.”
“Tough. Don’t you worry about a thing, Jenny. I’ll place it out of sight and check it for you.”
I gave him a glare for using that tone. The one that implied a patronizing pat on the head. When would he see me as more than just his annoying little sister?
Logan stood behind him, his mouth tightening as though trying not to smile.
I narrowed my gaze at both men. Now that I knew I was safe, I could be my bratty self. I flounced onto the couch, suddenly aware I’d been standing around in large t-shirt that ended at mid-thigh, and that my breasts were beginning to tingle. In another moment, my nips would spring, and then they’d both get a hint of my innermost secret. I pulled the afghan up to my shoulders.
But rather than leaving right away, the two men sat on either side of me, both wearing smirks.
Matt tucked a finger under my chin and turned my head toward him. “You need a roommate. If you were busy in the evenings, you wouldn’t get so edgy.”
I snorted. “I tried that in college. I don’t get along well with other girls. They’re too catty.”
Logan grunted. “It’s because they’re jealous.”
I turned to study his expression, which quickly shuttered. “Why would they be jealous?” I asked, pretending innocence, just because I wanted a compliment, something to tell me he might be even a little bit interested.
“Don’t be coy,” he said, shaking his head. “You know you’re gorgeous.”
It was the first time Logan had said anything about my appearance. I’d begun to think he just wasn’t into my type. Apparently not. His face might not be giving much away, but his gaze was sliding over me. Slowly.
Warmth crept into my cheeks. Did Matt know Logan was interested? Did he care?
My naughty fantasy, the one I frigged myself to nightly, suddenly didn’t seem so impossible—if only Matt saw me as an attractive, available woman, too.
Matt cleared his throat. When my gaze darted back, he was giving Logan a dark frown. Interesting . Not one to waste an opportunity, I let the afghan fall to my lap and stretched my arms high above my head, arching my back as I drew in a deep breath, knowing my breasts pushed against
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