Page 5 of Stepbrother For Christmas

“This is more than enough, thank you.”

“No problem,” he replies nonchalantly. “What’s mine is yours. We’re family now.”

“Yep, we’re family,” I say before chewing on my lower lip for a moment.

“Um…” Chase’s eyes linger on my lips before he catches himself and clears his throat. “Let’s go back downstairs,” he suggests.

“Okay,” I answer, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

* * *

“Oh my God, Mama!” I blurt out. “Is that the piano from our old house?”

She laughs. “I was wondering how long it would take you to recognize it.”

“You had it shipped all the way out here,” I say, warmth filling me.

“Yep. This old piano traveled well and at a very reasonable price,” she remarks, smiling.

“Seeing it brings back so many memories.”

“Aww…sweetie, won’t you play something for us?”

“Oh gosh, I haven’t played the piano in years.”

“Just a little something. Please.”

“Well…okay.” I sit down at the piano and run my fingers over the keys, slowly familiarizing myself with the piano chords.

I love this old piano. Growing up, it was my escape and a way to de-stress. Before my dad died, I used to play for him. After coming home from work, he’d have a drink and listen to me perform bits and pieces of piano sheet music.

With that memory in mind, I immediately begin to play a short version of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers from The Nutcracker ballet. Tears threaten to fall, but I tamp them down quickly. When I finish, I hear clapping.

“That was wonderful,” my mom says, tears in her eyes despite the smile on her face. “Wow. This made for a great segue into dinner. Okay, now for some food. The lasagna will be ready in five minutes.” Next, my mom and Jim head into the kitchen.

Once we’re alone, Chase walks over to me, his expression deep with something I can’t interpret. “Emma…you’re…” He pauses, his deep voice faltering for a moment.

“Hm?”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Oh.”

He clears his throat. “I mean, that was so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I mutter, a blush burning over my cheeks.

Then almost as if he’s in a trance, he takes my hand and leads me into the dining room. Next, he pulls my chair out for me.

“Thank you,” I say, sitting down.

“You are very welcome.”

All throughout dinner, I steal glances at Chase when he’s not looking.

“Emma?” My mom’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Hm?”

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