Stepbrother Revealed

CHAPTER ONE

“Shouldn’t the plane be bigger than this?” I muttered to myself as I stepped up the rickety stairs to the puddle jumper bound for the island of St. Thomas. Sure, Miami was a short flight away from the U.S. Virgin Islands, but that didn’t mean that I needed to fly in the airport’s smallest plane. The steps wobbled under my feet, and I put a hand to the rail to steady myself before stepping inside.

My stomach flipped as I stepped inside the plane. It almost felt like the plane itself was rocking in response to the wave of people pouring in. I leaned against the cold metal wall of the plane, my head spinning. A wave of nausea followed, and I dug around in my purse for the dramamine I’d packed.

“Can I help you find your seat, miss?” A slim, friendly flight attendant tried to get my attention as I frantically searched in my purse. I looked around and realized that I was blocking a line of the last ten or twelve people waiting to get on the tiny plane.

“Um, sure,” I mumbled. “I’m in 24A. Sorry about the hold up.”

“That’s all the way at the back on the left, miss.” The flight attendant gestured, implying that I should move my ass along as quickly as possible.

“Thanks,” I said, stumbling forward and pushing her way past businessmen and tourists trying to jam their belongings into the tiny luggage racks above. The seat was in one of the last rows, and thankfully, 24B was empty. I could freak out about the plane in peace, and hopefully, I wouldn’t have to deal with some strange person sitting next to me.

Okay, at least hopefully I wouldn't have to deal with someone sitting next to me. Don't we all maintain that hope when we board a plane, particularly such a small and rickety one? I took the dramamine out of my purse, finally clutching the thin foil packet. I popped out a pill and put it in my mouth dry. It would at least help some of the horrible feelings I associated with planes. And maybe I could pilfer some of my mother's Xanax for the ride home from her wedding.

I rolled my eyes. Her wedding. I groaned at the thought of the extravagant island wedding. I'd only ever met my stepfather-to-be one time. Hugh was nice enough, and he definitely had plenty of money to spend on my mother. That was what she liked, so I couldn't judge her too harshly. She seemed happy enough. But did the wedding really have to be on St. John? I'd have to endure both a plane to St. Thomas and a damn boat to St. John the next day. Goddammit. I didn't care for moving vehicles that weren't cars.

I sighed and looked out of the window, trying not to feel the plane rumble and rock as the last people boarded.

“Alright,” the flight attendant announced, “It looks like we're going to have smooth flying today, but we've got to get going. We're missing a passenger but we're going to go ahead and close the door …”

The friendly flight attendant was cut off mid-sentence. There was a thumping on the stairs, and suddenly a tall young man entered the plane.

“I’m here, I'm here. Don't worry. I knew you wouldn't leave without me.” He flashed a 100 watt smile, and the flight attendant seemed to swoon right there.

“Alright Mr. um …”

“Hathaway. Chase Hathaway.” He looked at her and grinned again.

“Well, yes, Mr. Hathaway, it looks like you're in 24B.”

Great. Fucking great. I sighed and turned to the window, trying to ignore the commotion around me as Chase made his way back to the seat I'd reserved for myself. The dramamine started to kick in, and I felt some of the anxiety leave me. That dramamine might go very well with ... a vodka. I kept my eyes glued to the tarmac, hoping to avoid the arrogant boy who had almost held up the tiny little plane that was supposed to get us where we were going.

There was a thump next to me. I turned my body away more, ignoring the intruder.

“Chase Hathaway,” he said.

“Sienna Graham,” I replied, keeping my body turned away, “And I don't do so well on planes, so I'm going to need my space. And part of my space is not having to talk to someone I don't know, Chase.”

I craned my body back and glanced at him. He'd be good looking if he weren't so obviously arrogant. The collar of his polo shirt was popped up, and his pink shorts betrayed his breeding. Obnoxious, entitled breeding. I glanced down. The ubiquitous brown Rainbow sandals. He had the whole outfit worked out. The outfit that said “You may know me; I'm kind of a prick.”

I snorted and turned away again. Chase didn't respond. The plane rumbled to life and I gripped the arm of the chair, my knuckles going white. My stomach did the familiar lurch I'd felt many times before as the plane rolled over the tarmac. It was dulled only somewhat by the dramamine. The tiny plane rocked as it drove into line, and with a roar it began to lift off. The plane swayed to one side as it lifted into the air, and I found my hand gripping the bare, muscled arm of Chase Hathaway in seat 24B. I looked at him sheepishly, but I knew my skin was turning gray. I didn't let go.

“It's okay, Sierra.”

“Sienna,” I hissed. This trip wasn’t off to a good start.

“Sienna. It's okay. This is a good airline, and this is a good plane. We're going to make it in one piece. The plane will not crash.”

“Not helping,” I yelped. “Not helping at all.”

“Okay, okay. Let's see. Do you follow sports? I like college basketball. Final four coming up and all that. I think I can get it on my computer at the apartment I'll be staying at.” I glanced at him. He was flashing that smile again, and I couldn’t help responding with a weak smile of my own. Despite his apparent jerkiness, he was trying to be nice.

“Don't care.” Basketball was the same as football was the same as baseball to me. The bottom seemed to fall away from my body, the fear rising in me as the plane rose higher in the sky.

“Okay well, why are you heading to St. Thomas?”

“Seeing family. My mom is getting married. You?” I felt the grip of fear begin to loosen. The dramamine had at least quelled some of the nausea I'd felt.

“Got a family thing, too,” he said.

“Lots of that going on at this time of year,” I said, unclenching my muscles and sitting back. The flight attendant began walking down the aisle of the plane with a cart of drinks. She served the people behind us.

"Yeah I guess so. Should be interesting, to say the very least."

“Family is always interesting,” I said. “Or at least, mine is.” I grinned at him, keeping my hands across my stomach. Suddenly I felt self-conscious. Chase took off his sunglasses and put them in his carry-on bag. His eyes were a bright, sparkling blue that reminded me of the ocean. His face was handsome and angular, his jaw strong. If he ever needed a career in modeling or movies, he'd probably be set. And his muscles were visible through the tight polo shirt. Damn. I wondered what he saw as he looked at me. A mousy girl with glasses. I certainly didn't belong on the beaches of the Virgin Islands. Chase, on the other hand, looked like he did.

The cart rolled up next to us, and I pul

led a magazine from the seat in front of me. Sky Mall. Poor Sky Mall, going out of business. I guess everybody would be on their smart phones on planes nowadays. Chase had his phone out, flipping through a book or article he'd saved. He looked up to the flight attendant, who was openly ogling him. I chuckled. Chase must get this all the time.

“This woman — Sienna — will have a drink. She's in desperate need of …” He looked at me, and I met his twinkling eyes. “A vodka and cranberry. Make that two. I'll have one as well.”

The flight attendant poured our drinks and handed them to us.

“Best to start a weird family vacation off with a drink,” said Chase. “Bottoms up.” He held his plastic cup out, and I clicked it with mine. I took a sip and then another. The alcohol spread through my system quickly, making my body relax even further. Chase was right. I needed this. Desperately.

“I guess it is. Thank you.” He handed his credit card to the attendant and she swiped it, moving on to the next customers. I sipped my drink in silence and put the magazine back. The vodka even made it so that I could look out of the window without having that nauseating falling feeling. The ocean was bright blue below us as we made our way into tropical territory. I sighed. I'd have to be in my bathing suit and in my little beach dresses for the rest of the week. I'd definitely rather be working than parading around in front of my family, but whatever. Sometimes, weddings were inevitable.