Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
He’s watching me with challenging eyes. “That’s what I really want for Christmas. If you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
“There’s a lot of time between now and Christmas,” he says with a confident grin. “Anything can happen.”
I’m wondering what exactly he’s thinking as he picks up another ornament and places it on the tree.
“Nothing is going to happen,” I say as I turn back to the box. I’m rummaging through it as Lucy comes over, wagging her tail. She shoves her head in the box and tries to grab an old dried-up Play-Doh ornament I made in elementary school. I have to wrestle it away from her.
“Lucy,” August says in a firm tone. “That’s enough.”
The dog looks up at him with puppy dog eyes and then trots away.
We put up a few more ornaments in silence. August isn’t so bad when he’s not talking.
“How come you weren’t at the wedding?” he asks as I put up an ornament of Santa in a bathing suit and sunglasses at the beach.
“Were you there?”
He nods. “I was.”
I huff out a breath as I go back to the box. “I was upset.”
“About what?”
“My mom divorced my dad out of the blue,” I say with my tone rising and my body tensing. “And what? I’m supposed to just go to the wedding like it’s all good? Like she didn’t just tear my family apart for her ’soulmate’?”
August shrugs. “Sometimes people don’t get it right the first time around. They look like soulmates to me.”
“My dad could have been her soulmate if she tried a little harder,” I say, tasting the bitterness on my tongue.
Maybe I’m not so ready to forgive. Maybe I should have stayed in Australia for a little bit longer.
“Dinner is ready,” Mom says, poking her head out of the kitchen. “There’s hardly any decorations on the tree! What have you two been doing?”
“Secret step-sibling stuff,” August says with a raised eyebrow. “No step-parents allowed.”
“No fair,” Mom says with a playful pouting face. “Can you two set the table?”
“Sure, Mom,” I say with a forced smile.
She disappears back into the kitchen as August comes strolling over with a frustratingly sexy grin on his face.
I glare at him. “Can you set the table without making it sound dirty?”
“I think so,” he answers. “What order should we set the table? I think we should fork first and then spoon.”
I shake my head as I look up at him. “You’re impossible.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he says in a low voice as he slides his hand on my lower back while we walk. Tingles erupt along my skin. “You and me are very possible. I’d even say it’s likely.”
I step away from his hand and my whole body craves having it back on me.
“I’d say you’re crazy,” I whisper back. “And inappropriate.”
“And sexy?”
I grit my teeth as I glare at him. “We’re related.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Because we’re related.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says with a triumphant grin as we arrive in the kitchen.
My hands squeeze into fists at my sides as I watch him grab the placemats out of the drawer.
“It smells great in here,” August says to our parents who are at the stove, checking if the chicken breasts are fully cooked. He walks to the table with his heated eyes locked on me. “I can’t wait to taste this delicious bird. I’m starving for it.”
My jaw clenches as I glare at him.
I hate how he keeps making my body react this way.
I hate how he keeps making me blush.
How he keeps making me tingle.
But more than anything, I hate that I don’t want him to stop.
Chapter Five
Harmony
It’s after midnight and I still can’t sleep.
I’m tossing and turning in bed, thinking of my new stepbrother in the other room.
I’d much prefer you completely naked…
Maybe it’s the wine that’s turning my brain into a sex-starved monster. Yeah, that must be it. I did have two glasses.
I turn around in the sheets and huff out a frustrated breath.
It’s not the alcohol. I’ve had alcohol before and it’s never had this kind of effect on me. Nothing has had this kind of effect on me.
I’m a twenty-one-year-old virgin.
I’ve never even really had a crush on a boy before. I mean, I thought some guys were cute when I was in high school, but I never felt the need to have one of them as my boyfriend. I never yearned for sex or kisses, or even to hold their hand. I did hold Andrew Bateman’s hand in the eighth grade when we went to the dance together. It felt like I was holding a cold dead fish. I hated it.
But with August—with my new stepbrother—I can’t seem to stop these dirty thoughts from penetrating my mind.
Every time I close my eyes, I picture him shirtless. Every time I turn around, I feel his hands on me, turning me, bending me over, positioning me just how he wants.