Page 94 of Stepbrothers

“Trig,” Parker said, peeling away from the hug and gesturing to Clarice. “Meet your new stepsister, Clarice.”

His attention flicked to her. For a moment he froze, mimicking her shock and disbelief. His pupils widened, his mouth hung open for a split second, then he snapped it closed and his eyes narrowed. His huge shoulders appeared to tense, creating roped tendons in his neck.

“Clarice.” Her name seemed to scrape over his tongue.

“Trig,” she managed, though her own throat felt stuffed with cotton wool. She took a gulp of wine and nearly choked.

Was he going to reveal to the entire family that they knew each other already? That they’d screwed half the night and then some more at dawn? That he’d done things to her no one else had? Had her screaming out his name? But not Trig. Sean. That’s what he’d introduced himself as.

Fucking Sean. Yes, that’s what it was. Not Scott.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, then turned away, a muscle flexing in his cheek. “I hope to hell there’s beer in this fridge, it’s taken me thirty-six hours to get here, and it’s been a dry deployment.”

“Plenty of beer, bro.” Hugh held out a bottle, the lid already removed.

Trig snatched it and drank deep, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Well, isn’t this nice.” Benjamin beamed and held out his arms. “The entire family finally together.”

“It really is?” Jenny was studying Clarice. No doubt wondering why the color had suddenly drained from her daughter’s face.

“I…I need to get these puddings in,” Clarice said, quickly turning away.

“Let me help.” Parker was at her side.

“No,” she snapped. “I can do it.”

“Hey, okay. I was only offering.”

“I can do it.” She frowned and reached for the tray.

Parker said nothing in response, but he did top up her wine which she was grateful for—she was going to need it to get through this meal.

A few minutes later, they were all sitting around the table tucking into smoked salmon. Clarice’s appetite had completely deserted her. She kept peeking at Trig who was sitting at the opposite end of the table, between Jenny and Benjamin.

He hadn’t looked at her again. Not once.

“Clarice had her interview this week,” Hugh said. “For her teacher training course.”

“You did?” Jenny set down her knife and fork. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I wanted to tell you when I got a place.” She held up her crossed fingers.

“When do you find out?” Benjamin asked.

“Very soon, over the next few days.”

“She’ll get on the course.” Parker nodded confidently. “I’ve got a good feeling about it.” He smiled at her, his eyes softening. “And she’d done the preparation.”

She popped a single rocket leaf into her mouth and felt a scowl line dig between her eyebrows.

Parker frowned and continued to study her.

“Is it what you’ve always wanted to do?” Trig asked. He set his attention on her for only the second time since arriving home.

His eyes were so piercing. It was like he was seeing into her soul—either that or remembering her naked and on her hands and knees as he’d screwed her hard and fast from behind. She had to resist the urge to squirm on the seat. “Yes.”

“So what made you apply now?” He set down his fork, sat back, and folded his arms, his biceps bulging further when his knuckles pressed on them.

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