Page 132 of Stepbrothers

“In Clapham, with Parker and Hugh. My new stepbrothers. There’s a spare room, it’s big with an en suite and everything. They offered me to use it while I find somewhere else.”

“That’s very kind of Hugh.” Wendy’s lips tightened.

“It is, not that he’s there much. He does crazy shift work. I hardly see him. And Parker is such a workaholic, here there and everywhere closing deals in Japan, America…I don’t know, not even really sure what he does other than he’s barely got time to catch his breath when he’s in London.” She laughed, trying to make light of her explanation.

“I bet his girlfriend loves that.” Wendy raised her eyebrows. “Him hardly ever being in London.”

“None of my business.” Clarice sipped her drink again, awaiting the rush of alcohol.

“And Hugh?” Wendy sat back and folded her arms, her breasts pushing upward. “What’s going on with that brother?”

“Stepbrother.” Clarice felt a rise of irritation, or was it anger? Wendy was pissing her off. But she had to keep her cool if she was going to keep her friends. “Hugh is important to me, he’s been a great help lately, what with the flat and my job and getting on the course.”

“And are you still…?”

“Friends?” Clarice asked stiffly. “Yes. We are.”

“And more?” Wendy narrowed her eyes.

Clarice wanted to shout that yes, they were much more, and not only that, she loved his brothers, too—in a deeply carnal, passionate, would-never-get-enough-of-them way—but she stopped herself. She also stopped herself from retorting that she’d never judge Wendy’s choice of lover, no matter what she thought. Friends stuck together. Supported one another. “We’re mates,” Clarice said. “That’s it. Me and Hugh are flatmates.”

Wendy studied her and gnawed at the inside of her cheek.

Sharon glanced from Clarice to Wendy then back to Clarice.

“You sure?” Wendy frowned and leaned forward. “Because what you told me before…”

“Clearly I shouldn’t have…” Clarice stopped herself from saying more. “It’s history. Let’s forget about it.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have done what you did, and I’m glad it’s history.” Wendy blew out a breath and spun her glass on the table by the stem. “Some fucks are just off limits and—”

“And I’m glad that’s cleared up.” Sharon held up her glass. “Here’s to the raunchy rebels being back together and out on the hunt.”

“To the raunchy rebels.” Clarice held up her drink and smiled.

Wendy grinned suddenly. “Back and raunchier than ever.” She cupped her breasts and jiggled them, then let out a cackling laugh.

To Clarice’s relief, the conversation quickly switched to a guy Sharon had been seeing from work. A casual hookup, she said, that had turned to a convenient scratch-a-mid-week-itch kind of thing.

“He’s cute,” Sharon said, “in a nerdy, big glasses, tech wiz kind of a way. You can imagine my surprise when he took off his clothes and he’s got a gym bod to die for.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Wendy said.

“I agree.” Clarice drained her wine. “Shall I get us a bottle to share? We staying here?”

“Yes, this is a prime seat.” Sharon grinned. “And it’s busy, plenty of eye candy.”

“So you’re not planning on going exclusive with nerd guy?” Wendy asked.

“Exclusive? What’s that?” Sharon laughed. “There’s too many guys out there for me to be tied to one. I’ll take what I can get so long as they know how to use it, if you know what I mean.”

“I sure do.” Wendy nudged her. Her attention was then caught by something, or rather someone, at the bar. “Hey, Clarice, isn’t that one of your hookups?” She nodded through the crowd.

Clarice followed her line of sight. Her heart stuttered. Standing at the bar, all wide shoulders and brooding good looks, was Trig.

What the hell?

His gaze connected with hers for a second, and then the barman spoke to him.

---