Stepbrother's Secret
At some point during Tristan’s speech, the reporter has turned on his phone, holding it up and catching every word. “You…” The man’s eyes tick between me and my stepbrother, putting the pieces together. “You and Miss Worthington are…together. Your relationship goes beyond stepbrother and stepsister. That’s what you’re telling me?”
“Yes. Well beyond.” He stops to clear the emotion from his throat. “I’m in love with her. And somehow, after everything I’ve done, she loves me back.”
A sound trips out of my mouth, tears rushing to my eyes.
Elton curses vilely.
The reporter appears dumbfounded. “Experts are calling you a shoo-in for the presidential nomination after one more term as governor. You’re willing to lose that chance?”
Tristan’s gaze burns into mine. “She’s worth it. She’s always been worth it.”
I don’t think. I simply run to him, throwing my arms around his waist and letting myself be picked up off the ground. “I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely into my neck. “I’m sorry. I was an idiot. No more pretending to be anything but my Cate, okay? My angel from the glen.”
Moisture leaves my eyes, soaking into the shoulder of his jacket. My heart swells to the point of nearly bursting. I never would have wished for this, for Tristan to jeopardize everything for our relationship, but I’ve also never felt more loved and valued and safe.
Tristan sets me down reluctantly, holding me against his side to face the reporter. “I expect this will be all over tomorrow morning’s news cycle.”
The reporter purses his lips. “No.”
We exchange a confused look. “No?” prompts Tristan.
“I’m not an idealistic man by any means,” says the reporter, erasing the voice memo of Tristan’s confession. Showing us as he does it. “But I wouldn’t mind having someone as honest and selfless as you running the country, Governor. Someone who knows how to put his ambitions aside for the sake of others will do more for this country than a scandal will.” He winks at us, dropping his phone back into his jacket pocket. “Like I said, though, I’m not totally unselfish. I’ll be expecting a job on the White House press corps when you’re elected. Do we have a deal?”
“No,” Tristan says, his tone adamant. “I need Cate to know I’m serious about her. That I would do anything for her—”
“I do know.” I take him by the lapels of his jacket, stepping in between him and the reporter. “You just showed me. I have all the proof I need.”
He shakes his head. “Cate, please let me do this for you.”
“Don’t you see? You did. You showed me what you’re willing to do. I’ll never doubt you again. Never doubt us again.”
His forehead finds mine, his breath ghosting over my lips. “I want to be with you in the open. God, sweetheart, you deserve that.”
“Someday we will.” I kiss him softly. “But not today. Not when you have so much to give. And I’ll be right there with you. Not a dirty little secret—just a necessary one.”
Silently, brow furrowed, he traces the ridge of my collar. “Are you sure?”
I give him my best smile. An honest one. “Yes.”
Tristan’s jaw flexes, his focus traveling back to the reporter. “You have a deal.”
We hold each other as the reporter gets into his car and drives away. And then Tristan picks me up into his arms and carries me inside, past our silent parents and up the stairs to his bed where I belong. Where I will always belong.
Epilogue
Tristan
Six years later
This meeting can’t end fast enough.
I only returned an hour ago from a meeting with the Canadian Prime Minister. Now I’ve hit the ground running, giving an audience to a panel of American car manufacturers. Their concerns are important to me, but my mind is elsewhere, so I struggle to listen. One of my assistants is taking notes that I’ll review later.
We’re seated in the Oval Office and my attention continually drifts to the door, willing Cate to walk through, while also willing her not to. Because there is no way that I’ll be able to keep my hands off her after three days out of DC. At night, once everyone has gone home, she has the run of the place, draping herself over my desk while I’m on international calls or sliding in her socks on the waxed floors of the numerous conference rooms. Of course, she spends a lot of time exhausted in my bed, naked and rosy in the sheets, my teeth marks on her ass.
I wonder what the American people would think if they knew the one thing keeping their leader sane, and this the country running smoothly, was the president’s stepsister.
After I was elected, Cate came with me to DC, along with my father and Rebecca, and is now heavily involved in environmental initiatives. My stepsister wanted to work, to find a way to make a difference and she’s done so, winning over the press and the American people with her earnest personality, her kindness and sugary southern accent, which I demanded she stop hiding.