Step-Santa - A Stepbrother Forbidden Romance

I tilt my head. “His son?”

“Yes, your new stepbrother.”

“I have a new stepbrother?”

“Well, yes.” She steps off the elliptical. “Your stepbrother is a tad older than you.”

“Can you really call him that when I’m twenty-six years old?” This is weird. “I mean, it’s not like we’re all living together like the Brady Bunch. Any other siblings I need to know about?”

“No, just the one son who lives here in town.”

“Great. And by a tad bit older, how old are we talking here, Mom?”

“He’s thirty.”

I climb off the bed. “How old is Randall?”

My mother crosses to the dresser and pulls open drawers, removing clothes. “Randall’s a tad older too.”

“Was it his idea to run off and get married?”

She turns to face me. “Yes, he thought it would be romantic.”

“Did he think it would be romantic not to invite your kids?”

“Honey, I promise we will make it up to both of you this weekend. We’ll do some real family things.”

I roll my eyes. “Mom, I’m not looking to play family with your new husband and his son.”

She pouts, knowing I can never say no to her. “Please?”

I sigh. “Fine.”

She grins and kisses my cheek. Lovely. Now I get to pretend we’re one big happy family at the charity event in a few weeks.

Two

KANE

“Explain to me again why you rushed off to marry this woman?” I ask my father the million-dollar question at the bar of our country club. “Are you sure she didn’t just marry you for your money?”

Dad laughs, deepening the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “She has her own money, Kane.”

I slump back in my seat, staring at my bourbon on the rocks, unhappy he married a woman he met mere weeks ago. “Then tell me why you did it, Dad?”

“Love,” he says, as if that explains everything.

It’s my turn to laugh. “Love is a myth. It doesn’t exist.”

My father’s eyes widen to owlish proportions. “Who told you that lie?”

I take a sip of my drink. “You did.”

“That was the old me. I’m a changed man. I love Crystal. You’re still coming to the charity event, right? Please, say you are, Kane.”

I set my crystal tumbler on the lacquered-oak bar. “Yes, Dad. I’m still going. And I’ll play Santa.” I roll my eyes because there’s an infinite number of other ways I’d rather spend the holiday season.

Like finding Winter.

Why didn’t I get her number? Or a last name. Or anything that could help me find out who she is. I have to say, when I played Good Samaritan and pulled over on the side of the road, I didn’t expect a beauty to emerge from the car like a peppermint candy ready to be sucked.

Ok, I’m letting my thoughts run away from me here. Yet, that’s what she reminded me of with the white knit hat on her strawberry hair that floated down her back in waves. Her ruby-red lips were kissable as fuck, and I’d love to know what was underneath the oversized parka on her petite frame.

Instead of organizing a statewide manhunt for the mysterious woman, I’ll be playing Santa to a bunch of kids. Don’t get me wrong, I love kids.

I’d just rather spend more time with the gorgeous redhead.

“You’ll be meeting Crystal’s family there too,” my father says.

I motion to the bartender for another round and catch up with my father. I haven’t seen him since he returned from his wedding honeymoon combo.

Crystal’s a nice lady. I met her once, and my father appears smitten with her. I just don’t understand why they felt the need to rush into a marriage.

I’m not a relationship-type of guy. I’m more of a go-on-a-few-dates-and-let-things-fizzle-out kind of guy.

It’s easier.

Besides, I’ve never met a woman who can keep my attention.

“Are you staying for dinner?” my father asks as the bartender sets two fresh drinks in front of us.

“Sure, why not?”

“Crystal’s bringing her daughter,” he says just as I take another sip of bourbon.

I nearly choke. “Daughter? How old is she?”

“Mid-twenties. I don’t know. You be nice to her.”

“When am I not nice?”

He arches a brow at me. “Be nice. She’ll be your helper elf, so it’s good you meet now to avoid the awkwardness.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m always nice.”

As soon as I say that, I glance toward the front of the restaurant, and there she is.

The woman from earlier today. She’s out of her oversized coat and has a body I can’t stop drooling over.

Her strawberry-blonde hair hangs like silk past her shoulders. I’d love to wrap those tresses in my fists as I pound inside her from behind.

“Dad, I’ll take a raincheck for dinner.” I slide off the barstool, setting my glass on the bar, keeping my eyes locked on Winter.

“No, you said you’d stay.” My father stands from his barstool. “Oh, there they are now.” My father waves toward Winter, and that’s when I spot Crystal standing right next to her.