Giving Her My Baby

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. None of this is going to plan.

“Shit,” I sigh and put my face in my hands, rubbing my eyes.

This is all my mom’s fault.

Barbara Renshaw went to Vegas for the weekend and came back with a husband. Now she’s hitched and I’ve been stuck with the asshole she brought home. The first time I met I knew he was a sleazeball and was only after my mom’s money, which happens to be my money. My mother is a saint, and people have taken advantage of that before. I’m usually good about protecting her from creeps like him, but I thought she needed the weekend with her girlfriends. I should have known that no good comes from that city, and boy, did Barb go and prove me right.

My phone rings and I look down to see the screen light up with her name. All I can think of when I see her name on there is, what now?

“Hey Mom,” I say, unable to ignore her. “I’m headed to a meeting. What’s up?”

“Hey sweetheart. I just wanted to call and see if you were free for dinner tonight. Vick has some wonderful ideas about investments. You know I’m not good with those kinds of things, and I thought you could help.”

I have to bite my tongue so I don’t lose my temper. I love my mother, but god knows she doesn’t have the greatest taste in men.

“I don’t know how long this will take, but let me help you out. I’m going to send Ryan, my financial advisor, over and he’ll be able to answer whatever questions you have.” My guy Ryan wouldn’t give this guy two wooden nickels.

“Oh, that sounds perfect. Okay, if you can’t make dinner, let’s do lunch soon.”

“All right, I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” I say and then tell her goodbye.

I squeeze my phone in my hand, and though I’m tempted to smash it, I don’t. I still need it, even if I’m pissed off.

“All because of Vegas,” I say to myself as I sit back in the car and head to the office.

Once I’m there, I’m like a caged tiger pacing my office. When I sit down, I tap my fingers on my desk, getting anxious. Finally I hit the button on my phone for my secretary.

“Is she here yet, Carol?” I ask impatiently.

“No, sir. It’s only been four minutes since the last time you asked. I promise you’ll know the second she arrives.” I make some annoyed sound and I can hear the smile in her voice when she comes back on. “She’s not due for another fifteen.”

“I’m aware,” I say and hang up. I’m almost certain I can hear her laughing on the other side of the wall, but that’s probably my own mind playing tricks on me.

I stand up again and begin to pace. There’s no way I was this far in front of her in the car. Maybe she stopped for coffee or changed her mind. I don’t think either of those are possibilities, so maybe I’m just getting worked up for nothing.

Just as I make another pass on the carpet, my phone beeps and it’s Carol. “Mr. Renshaw, Ms. Newman is here to see you,” she says, her voice cool and calm.

I don’t have a chance to respond before the door opens and there she is stepping through.

Getting the full effect of her straight on is almost jarring. Her warm eyes and striking features are enough to make my knees weak. But when she smiles at me, it punches me straight in the chest.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Renshaw. Call me Ella,” she says, offering her hand and stepping forward.

I’ve had business meetings with leaders of countries and made billion-dollar deals over breakfast. But I’ve never been so tongue-tied and discombobulated as I am in front of this perfect woman.

“Brooks.” I say and take her hand in mine. It’s all I can manage to get past my lips because I’m too busy thinking about taking her to the floor and ripping off her panties while I rut into her like a dog.

“It’s nice to meet you, Brooks,” she says, and I have to blink a few times to come back to earth.

“Ella,” I say, tasting her name in my mouth.

I never imagined that one look at her and I’d be totally and completely in love. Especially since she’s my stepsister.

4

Ella

I bite my lip, unsure of what to do when Brooks doesn’t release my hand. He’s even more attractive in person than in the photos I saw. I give my hand a small tug, and he looks down as if he’s just now realized he still has a hold of it. He rubs his thumb across my knuckles before he finally releases me. The simple brush makes goosebumps break out across my skin. I’m sure my fair skin shows a blush. It always does.