Page 20 of Her Stepbrother Master
She nibbled her lip. “He doesn’t know yet. My parents are in Europe at the moment.”
“Well, we’re so close to graduation now, he can hardly pull you. I mean, he’s paid for two years’ worth of tuition, he’d be a fool not to let you get your teacher’s certificate.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” She ignored the stab of guilt from her deceit. The thought of her time with Brad ending brought on a fresh twist of anxiety. But she couldn’t think about that right now. She needed to make the most of the experience while she had it.
They finished their coffee and she accompanied Beth to the front of the Student Union, where she planned to meet her date.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Tom McGuire.”
She choked on the breath she’d been drawing, the memory of being mauled by him still fresh in her mind. Her hand drifted to her bruised breast. “Be careful, Beth. He’s the type who doesn’t stop when a girl says no. Where is he taking you?”
A red convertible pulled up, the offending Battleton boy behind the wheel. A jolt went through LuAnn when she realized he wore a piece of tape over his nose, as if it had been recently broken. Had Brad done that?
She shouldn’t be so thrilled. She really shouldn’t.
“I don’t plan to say no,” Beth said with a naughty smirk. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for the chat.”
Tom glowered at her from the window and touched his broken nose. “Are you two friends?” he called out through the open window.
Was he not even going to get out and open the door for Beth? What a cad. She lifted her chin. “Yes, we are. I hope you’re on your best behavior with her.”
“You shouldn’t have invited me to your room if you had a boyfriend,” he said, causing Beth to turn and gape at her.
She gave a quick shake of her head, her mind reeling. Had Brad pretended to be her boyfriend and not her brother? Her heart skipped a beat. She gave the bewildered Beth a quick embrace. “Call me if you need me to pick you up or anything,” she said, scribbling Brad’s phone number on a piece of notebook paper and pressing it into her friend’s hand. “And be careful.”
“I’ll be fine. But, thanks,” Beth said.
She turned away before she had to talk more to Tom.
Brad had defended her. The memory of his daddy game returned to her. She loved being the subject of his protection and tender care and if he wanted to call himself daddy, it was fine with her.
Her own father loved her, she knew that, but he hadn’t had much time for her growing up. Her mom had died when she was six, so he’d hired Mrs. Appleton as their housekeeper, and she’d been the one who really raised her. Brad’s mom had entered their lives when she was thirteen, and she’d offered LuAnn love as well, but she’d also taken what little of her father’s attention she’d had.
Having a male who lavished her with the attention and affectionate regard she’d always longed for came as an intense pleasure. The fact that it came in the package of Brad Stanford, her sexy stepbrother, made it all the better. And worse. Because even though she’d never felt so safe and cared for in her life, she wasn’t sure why he was doing it. Was he really just filling in until their parents returned? Or did he have romantic feelings for her too?
Brad fingered Mr. Washburn’s card in his pocket. He’d told LuAnn he planned to start his own firm someday. It was the first time he’d voiced his ambition, and now it seemed the act of voicing it had set wheels in motion. He had an opportunity—did he risk his job and run with it?
The rebel in him wanted to. Ironically, it would effectively put an end to all his devil may care activities. It was long past time to buy a car and sell the Ducati, but he’d been clinging to his bad boy image for the past few years, despite his professional job. He’d been refusing to look for a wife, refusing to grow up.
Something about having LuAnn in his apartment changed his outlook on everything. She trusted and admired him, and that made him want to be worthy of her sweet esteem. He hated that she’d tried to emulate his bad habits—smoking and running with fast girls.
He knew he’d crossed a line with her when he’d taken things beyond the point of propriety the night before and the guilt at defiling her innocence weighed on him, but it also made him consider a future he’d never dreamed of before for himself. One with LuAnn at the center of his life.
Suddenly, his entire existence had shifted. The meaninglessness of plodding through work, the need to act like a teenager standing up against authority outside of his office job, all fell away. Things seemed brighter now. He could imagine a life with purpose—with a little wife to care for and keep. A naughty little housewife who required his protection and punishment.
He pulled out Mr. Washburn’s card and stared at it. He would need to make a decision soon. And not just about the job...
LuAnn had seen little of Brad since the night he shaved her private parts and put her to bed naked. She had a feeling he was avoiding her. Things had gone too far, and now he’d pulled back. Just like her friend Jenny Hill and her boyfriend Mark back in high school, They’d made it to third base and then he’d immediately dumped her. He’d been afraid, they’d decided. Because he was a good Catholic boy and they both had been so close to going all the way and losing their respective virginities. Poor Jenny had been devastated.
Not that Brad was a virgin—she was one hundred percent sure of that. But he probably felt guilty about sullying her. Or maybe because he still thought of her as just “mouse,” his bratty little sister. That thought depressed her.
She had dinner ready for him when he came home that night—meatloaf and steamed carrots with butter. She’d set the table and had the food covered to stay warm while she waited, studying.
He came in, looking as dapper as ever in his button-down shirt and tie. She had a hard time deciding which look she liked better—the James Dean bad boy in jeans and the leather jacket or this one—the handsome young professional.
She stood up and smoothed the fluffy skirt of her gingham halter dress. If she was his wife, she’d greet him at the door with his favorite drink and a kiss. The idea thrilled her. To be Brad Stanford’s wife… But he didn’t seem the marrying type. Playboys didn’t marry, did they?
