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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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About This Book

He's back, and he's brought all the old feelings I thought buried with him.

I thought I was over him.

I thought I'd gotten past my stupid teenage crush for my stepbrother.

But now Reid's back to take care of his sick mother and I've been slapped with a rude reminder:

I still love him.

I still want him.

Even if I know it's wrong.

I have to forget him.

There's too much at stake.

But the way he looks at me...

The way he touches me...

I'm not sure I'll ever come back from this.

I'm back, but the moment I see her again it's like I never left.

She's off-limits. Not only because she's my stepsister.

But she's with someone else.

I need to stand back.

I need to get the hell away from her.

I've got more important things to deal with than figure out what I feel for her.

But it's a lot harder than I thought.

Because the way she feels in my arms...

The sweet sounds she makes when my hands are all over her...

It's all proof she was meant to be mine.

Excerpt

My fingers ached to touch him. I curled them in tight against my palms inside my jacket pockets. This was neither the time nor place. There would never be the time or place to touch him the way I’ve always wanted to.

“You can drop the overprotective brother shtick now,” I said in bored tones. “And I especially don’t need relationship advice from you, Mr. Avoids Commitment Like the Plague.”

He shrugged. “I see no problem with fucking someone and then forgetting about them.”

“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s pretty crass. And more than a little disappointing.”

“Life is pretty crass and disappointing, sis.”

“You’ve become bitter,” I said.

He dropped his hands to his sides and stepped closer, towering over me, blatantly crowding my personal space. This was new and strange and terrifying. Reid had never been this close to me willingly. More often than not, he sought ways to be as far away from me as possible. Case in point: leaving home to be a bounty hunter many years ago and never looking back.

“You’re still naive.” His voice seemed to ghost over my skin and I shivered. “Clueless.”

Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked and a few birds shot out of the trees, taking flight. The air had dampened, a sign of impending rainfall. Reid’s eyes were as stormy and conflicted as the slowly darkening sky. I wondered if he heard how hard my heart was beating right now.

The weighty silence between us stretched on. Then his gaze dipped to my lips. My insides squeezed in surprise and anticipation.

Do it. Kiss me.

We shouldn’t. He’s my stepbrother.

I don’t care.

He lifted his hand, reaching for my face.

I closed my eyes. Held my breath. Waited.

Yearned for his lips against mine.

CHAPTER ONE

Mackenzie

When I die, I want it to be immediate.

It should be painless. One moment I’d be alive and the next I wouldn’t. Dying of old age would be fine, too, because it meant I at least lived life long enough to earn that graceful departure.

Dying of a disease was unpleasant.

Dying of cancer was a literal
fuck you
from life.

Vera lay in the hospital bed asleep. The stark white pillowcases and bed sheet amplified her skin’s paleness. Even though there was a nasal cannula curving around her gaunt cheeks, her parched lips were parted as she sucked in air with a light wheezy, rasping sound.

Sometimes I hated seeing her like this. Yet sometimes I felt compelled to stare, to watch how a vibrant, healthy life could be so swiftly dimmed by sickness. There was this need to capture it, capture her like this, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to have this image of my stepmother in the worst period of her life be my final memory of her. After all, the last image I had of my real mother was her climbing into an idling taxi while my father clutched at the door, begging her not to go.

Old feelings of resentment and hurt filled me as my mind went back to that day almost twenty years ago. I sucked in a sharp breath and shook my head to clear my thoughts. Pointless to head down that road again for the umpteenth time. Twisting my body, I raised my feet up into the chair. I ignored the magazine sliding from my lap to the floor as I gazed out the window.

I had to leave soon. I hadn’t checked the time in a while, but I heard Nurse Rhonda’s voice as she chatted to her co-workers about her son’s softball game. Her arrival on shift meant visitation period was drawing to a close. A shame because Dad never missed a day to come see Vera yet he hadn’t shown up today.

The room’s door clicked shut. Startled by the sound, I turned away from the view of the hospital grounds then froze.

“Hey, Mac.”

I opened my mouth but no words came. My mind remained blank except for one sentence: Reid was here.

“Reid, you’re here.” I got to my feet. My shoes slid against the glossy cover of the magazine on the floor. I bent to pick it up and put it on the side table.

“In the flesh.”

I stood there for a moment not knowing what to do. Then I decided to approach him. Our hug was awkward and brief. I tried to overcome the awareness of his hands around me. He towered over me, his skin tanner, his hair thicker, his stubble unkempt, his dark blue eyes—so much like Vera’s—bloodshot and tired. He had changed since the last time I saw him five years ago, but my feelings for him were definitely the same. They resurged within me with a fierce power like a strong gust of wind enlivening a dying fire. I pressed the hard diamond of my engagement ring against my thigh to remind myself why I had to forget these feelings for my stepbrother.

“You look like crap,” I said then realized that that wasn’t the best thing to say to a person whose parent lay dying right in front of them. “I-I mean you’ve looked better.”

“A thirteen hour flight from France with no sleep can do that to you.” He moved to his mother’s side, staring at her frail, resting form. Though he maintained a stoic expression, his jaw twitched and he curled his fists tight. I knew how he felt. It’s how I felt at the start before the sense of inevitability and acceptance cloaked me from the pain. I wanted to comfort him but I knew there was no true comfort for this.

His voice was tight. “How long?”

“A month,” I said quietly.

“You should have called me sooner.”

I grew defensive. “She didn’t want us to. She didn’t want you to worry.” I folded my hands across my chest. “Besides, it’s not like you’re the easiest person to get a hold of, Reid.”

He dragged his hands through his hair, down his face, before covering his mouth. Then he pulled the chair I had vacated closer to the bed and sat in it. Vera’s bony hand looked tiny in Reid’s large palm. When he leaned his forehead against her thigh, my heart squeezed from his visible anguish. I resisted the need to go and comfort him. I fought against the tears too. I left the room so that Reid could be alone with his dying mother.

CHAPTER TWO

Mackenzie

Dad met me in the hallway outside the room, his tie loosened and one of his shirtsleeves unrolled. His salt-and-pepper hair was wild as though he ran his hands through it constantly. There were bags beneath his eyes.

“Sorry I’m late, honey,” he said on a sigh. “Deposition ran later than I expected.”

We exchanged a quick hug. I took his briefcase and opened it to settle his documents properly so they no longer poked out the edges.

“That’s OK. Vera slept through most of the visit anyway.”

He nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad. She’s in pain a lot these days.” He glanced over at the nurses’ station and waved at Nurse Rhonda before turning back to me. “Why are you out here?”

“Reid’s here.”

“He is?” For the first time in a while, Dad’s blue eyes registered excitement instead of the regular sadness. A small smile played around his lips. “The prodigal son has returned.”

Back inside the room, Reid and Dad exchanged a firm hug. A strange sight because for most of Reid’s teen years, he and Dad hardly got along. Just as Dad gave Vera a kiss on her forehead, Nurse Rhonda poked her head into the room, an apologetic look on her round face.

“Sorry folks, time’s up.”

We left the room reluctantly. Dad and I never spoke it out loud but there was always this fear that one of our visits with Vera might be our last. No doubt this would be true someday but neither of us were ready for that.

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