Page 10 of Jealous Stepbrother

Glancing at Caroline over my shoulder, a flicker of heat spreads through my skull. A man in a suit is standing way too close to her, his posture too relaxed, his grin too familiar, his face too punchable.

Caroline laughs at something he says, and something tightens in my chest.

Oh, hell no.

A burning sensation flares within me, and my stomach hardens. My breath comes coarser and faster, and I push myself off the bar, heading back to her at a brisk pace.

I have never felt as angry as I do now. Spots appear in my vision, and a gnawing unease claws at me. What if someone else wants her for himself? What if she realizes all this risk isn’t worth it? That I’m not worth it?

This jealousy is foreign and unfamiliar to me. It knocks me off-balance, and I feel a primal territorial pull that I can’t let go of or ignore.

By the time I get to them, the guy’s phone is out, and he asks for Caroline’s number. In an instant, all her earlier friendliness is gone and replaced by cool indifference. That’s my girl.

“I’ll call you,” he says, inching ever closer to her.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Caroline crosses her arms over her chest and begins inspecting her nails as if those are the most interesting things in the world.

“Come on. My friends and I are going on a trip to the Bahamas later this year. I could bring you as my plus one.”

“No, thanks.”

“But you’d look so good in a bikini, and?—”

The moment he touches her elbow, I snap.

Jealousy morphs into fury—white-hot anger raging just beneath my skin. My hands curl into fists, and the only thing stopping me from turning his face into mush is Caroline’s wide-eyed warning.

Even as every instinct screams for me to clock him, I settle on a simple shove. Unfortunately, I underestimated my strength … or not. Who knows?

The guy staggers backward, arms flailing as he tries to regain his balance. A towering glass sculpture is just behind him, and his back hits it with a dull thud. The sculpture, which looks like a rising wave or a clamshell, wobbles for a few seconds before tipping.

The crash is so deafening that everyone else quiets and turns to the source of the sound. Shards of glass scatter on the floor, and those nearest give the three of us a wide berth. The room has fallen silent, amplifying the sharp click of heels behind me.

I don’t need to look to know who it is.

Mom. Of fucking course.

She offers a faint, brittle smile to the onlookers, but when her gaze snaps to me, it’s a different story. “What the hell is this, Callum?” Her voice isn’t loud, but it’s loaded with barely concealed fury.

Other people would have withered under the glare she casts on me, but I have years of experience, years of dealing with the demon inside her. “Nothing, Mother. He was being too touchy; it was making Caroline uncomfortable.” I shrug and give her the sweetest smile I can muster. “I was just trying to be a dutiful, attentive, and protective brother.”

Her sharp eyes cut to me, her nostrils flaring, but before she can open her mouth, her new husband wraps an arm around her shoulder and addresses the guests. “Sorry for that, everyone. Now, if you please, the drinks in the bar won’t finish themselves.”

That reminder eases the tension, and he half-drags, half-carries my mother to the people they were chatting with. Still with a smile, he glances at Caroline over his shoulder and says in a voice barely above a whisper, “If you’re going to make a scene, Caroline, how about you just leave?”

The look of genuine hurt in her eyes almost sends me into another fit of rage. Caroline must sense it because she tugs on my hand and pulls me outside, where I welcome the cool air, letting it wash over me and calm me down.

Caroline turns around to check before pointing an accusing finger at me. “What was that, Callum?”

“What was what?”

“That show of possessiveness. I didn’t think you were the jealous type.”

“I wasn’t … until I met you.”

Caroline runs her fingers through her hair in frustration, but all I can think about is wrapping it around my hand again and tugging it so I can suck on her neck. She groans and lifts her face to the sky as if she can find the answers there. “What does that even mean?”

I pace the parking lot, scrubbing a hand across my face. “I don’t know, Caroline!” My voice is sharper than I intended, my own frustration boiling over. “It was supposed to be a one-time thing with you, but now I can’t keep my eyes and hands off you.”

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