Cowboy Baby Daddy

“Christian,” I said.

“Yes, Stella?”

“Look at me.”

He raised his gaze to mine for the first time that morning, but all I saw was an ice cold wall. His lively eyes I’d grown to feel safe in threw me out of their warm pools. The body I had dreamed of seeking comfort within all weekend was suddenly holding me at arm’s length. The warm rays of sunshine from his smile I had previously found myself basking in were masked by the taut frown pulled over his cheeks, and that’s when I realized the grave mistake I had made.

I assumed he was different than Greyson.

“If you don’t mind, I have a great deal of work to do today. It’ll be a late night if I don’t get on it now,” he said.

“Right. Well, enjoy the coffee,” I said. “And I’ll be ready for the out of town trip this weekend.”

“I’ll get you the notes for the meeting once I flesh them out,” he said.

“Sounds good.”

I turned on my heels and walked out of his office as I choked back tears. The light blue eyes I had come to adore were now iced over, locking me out of something I had been privy to only a week ago. I knew I hadn’t been imagining things. I knew he had just as much fun as I did that night, even if neither of us were willing to admit in the beginning. I saw the softness of his gaze in the park and felt the strong comfort of his arms when he hugged me.

I felt that fucking kiss on my ear before he let me go.

I guess he’d had his fill of me and now he was done, just like that bullshit best friend of his. I knew of Todd’s reputation around town. I knew that he kept that stupid little barista job so he could go to all these parties and hook up with the women he did. He probably enticed Christian to live that same type of lifestyle. And now Christian was trying to have both lives. He was trying to live the life of a successful business owner while still screwing around with women.

And he thought his broken-hearted stepsister would be easy prey.

I slammed my office door behind me and tossed my purse onto the couch. I felt tears rise to my eyes as I thought back to how I’d let him in so easily, and I cursed myself for thinking he could ever change. Ever grow up.

Ever be a man.

They were all the same, men like him and Greyson. They used what they wanted, took what they knew they could have, then tossed it away when they were done. Maybe the adoration I saw in his eyes that night was just the drunken sheen of the liquor he’d been drinking at dinner. The comfort I sought out in his arms at the park was probably only the strong arms of a brother who was trying to wiggle his way into my life.

Maybe he was trying to erode the barriers I had put up so I wouldn’t swoop in and take the company from him.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” I whispered.

A part of me that wanted to believe it was real. That the things he’d murmured in my ear that night were true. Musing of how beautiful I was and how lucky I felt. I wanted to believe that he wanted to wake up to me as much as I’d wanted to stay.

But, maybe I had imagined it all.

Maybe he never really had feelings for me to begin with. Perhaps he didn’t have feelings at all.

Tears of frustration trickled down my face. I’d let it happen again. I’d let a man with kind eyes and a nice smile reach in to rip out my heart. I allowed him to penetrate me in ways I didn’t allow many men to, and now I had to work across the hall from the heartless bastard. Memories of our childhood that kept me warm at night this weekend turned sour in my head, as my stomach churned at the fact I’d have to travel with him this weekend, and suddenly I didn’t want to go.

Maybe I could get sick with Ebola or break my arm. Or I could take the company from him this week and throw him out on his ass. What if I could get him sick so he’d have to cancel the meeting? Maybe I could figure out what the fuck this meeting was about and cancel it myself.

After all, I was the vice president. I could do shit like that.

I slowly sunk down onto the couch and allowed the tears to drip onto my blouse. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have thought that my fucking stepbrother could love me that way? We hated each other growing up, so how the hell was that supposed to change?

Holy hell, I’d fucked my stepbrother.

“I need a psychiatrist,” I murmured.

Just then, my phone rang. It vibrated in my purse, inching the leather bag toward my leg. I shoved my hand in and grabbed it, wanting nothing more than to throw it against the wall.

But, once I saw it was my lawyer, I couldn’t open the phone quick enough.

“Hello?” I said.