Page 92 of Stepbrothers

Clarice fluttered her eyes closed and sighed against him. When had a trip to the supermarket ever been so good?

When she pulled back, she heard voices behind her. Female voices.

“Can you believe what you’re seeing, Tonya?”

“Huh. I wouldn’t cheat on that hunk if he was mine.”

“Maybe she’s not. Maybe she’s got both of them.”

It took all of Clarice’s willpower not to spin around. She knew, instinctively, it was the women who’d seen her kissing Hugh only minutes before. It had to be. And now they’d seen her cozy with Parker.

Her cheeks heated. A strange twist knotted in her belly. She wasn’t cheating on Hugh. No way. They were right. She did have two men. She loved two men.

“Here we go.” Hugh was at her side. He plonked a large trifle into their trolley then set his hand squarely on her ass. “I forgot to ask, do you like trifle? I can go and get something else if not.”

She swallowed and tensed.

Behind her there was a clearing of a throat and a muttered, “Bloody hell. Sheiswith them both.”

“Lucky bitch.”

Yes, she was lucky. And she knew it. Puffing up her chest, she smiled up at Hugh. “Trifle is perfect for me, thank you.”

Chapter Nineteen

Clarice wiped her forearm over her brow. The kitchen was hot with pans bubbling away on the stove and the oven blasting out heat every time Hugh or Parker opened the door to check the potatoes and chicken.

“We really should have chosen something more summery,” she said, taking a slurp of water.

“But it’s tradition to do a roast when Trig gets home. It’s his favorite.” Hugh shrugged.

What could she say to that? Reaching for flour and eggs, she started on Yorkshire puddings, not traditional with chicken, but she didn’t think anyone would complain.

“What shall I do?” Parker asked.

“Er, set the table?”

“Good idea.” He pulled open the cutlery drawer.

“Dad and Jenny will be here very soon.” Hugh glanced at the clock.

The doorbell chimed.

“Right on cue.” Hugh grinned. “I’ll let them in.”

“Great.” She blew a strand of hair that was hanging over her cheek. “I’d better make myself a bit more presentable.”

“Sure, we’ve got this under control.” Parker nodded at her bedroom. “Go get ready.”

“Don’t let those potatoes burn.”

“Definitely won’t do that.”

She scooted into Trig’s en suite which was now spread with her toiletries—she’d have to move them out later—and quickly spritzed her hair and applied a sweep of makeup. After changing from jeans and t-shirt to the dress she’d worn for her interview, she applied a squirt of perfume and added a necklace with a butterfly pendant.

There, she was ready to meet the famous Trig, or was that infamous?

“Sweetheart, there you are.” Her mother pulled her into a hug the moment she stepped into the living area. “And looking so pretty.”

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